CHAPTER 912: WISDOM, UNLOCK THE KEY

"I understand," she said softly.

She rose slowly into the sky, ascending until she floated level with the four emerald moons. Closing her eyes, she settled into a cross-legged position midair, bathed in the eerie glow of the moonlight.

She looked like a goddess woven from moonlight herself, ethereal, untouchable. Days slipped into weeks, yet she remained still, her eyes shut, her body resting atop the luminous petals of a violet lotus as if it were a divine throne.

Around her, three men and a small, curious creature hovered in the air, each taking a position to encircle her. None moved. None spoke. They simply watched, guarded, their gazes never leaving her form.

Then, her aura shifted. A brilliant white light ignited around her, pulsing like a newborn star.

And within her, the truth unfolded.

The four moons were not mere celestial bodies. They were reflections of the heart, each embodying a different temptation: desire, fear, pride, and attachment. Mirrors of the same fundamental truth that all living things believed themselves incomplete, and so they clung.

These emotions were universal. Desire, the endless hunger for more: love, power, validation, wealth. Fear, the terror of loss, of surrendering control, identity, even life itself. Pride was the illusion of separation, the belief that one was superior, different, deserving where others were not. And attachment, the desperate grip on what could never last: people, moments, versions of the self that had already slipped away.

"What do you make of these four? Should you cling to them or let them go?" A voice echoed in her mind.

"Desire, fear, pride, and attachment are born with existence itself. They are what make us feel. We should cling to them and let them go, all at once." She answered without hesitation.

"How?" The voice was cool, indifferent.

"Because they are the shadows cast by awareness. Without them, we would not be human, we would be stones." She paused, then continued:

"Desire drives us to seek, to create, to love. We desire someone who would pluck the moon from the sky for us. We desire truth, refusing to live blindly in the fog. We desire to build something better for ourselves, for those we love, for the world we call home."

"Fear keeps us alive. It sharpens our instincts. We fear death, so we learn to live well. We fear loss, so we learn to protect. Pride gives us dignity, the strength to stand tall. It refuses to let us bow to those who would harm our peace or the ones we cherish. Attachment binds us to others. It makes love possible. We hold tight to what matters, so we learn to treasure it."

"Yet we must also let go," she said, her voice steady. "Because suffering does not come from feeling, it comes from being enslaved by what we feel."

"Then you suggest both holding on and releasing?" the voice mused.

"Cling too tightly, and we burn. Let go entirely, and we freeze. The balance is in the middle, to hold the flame without being consumed."

"Love without possession. Courage without conquest. Pride without arrogance. Desire without chains. Embrace the storm cling to life, feel deeply but leave no room for obsession. Be passionate, yet unattached to the outcome."

"If you had to choose between feeling and freedom, between staying as you are or ascending higher, what would you pick?" The voice fell silent for a long moment. Then, finally, it asked.

"I don’t have to choose between feeling and freedom," she answered, her voice as steady as ancient stone yet soft as moonlit silk. "True mastery isn’t emptiness, it’s feeling deeply without drowning. I seek ascension not to escape emotion, but to experience more of it. If enlightenment demands a heart turned to ice, I’d rather remain in the dust with the weeping willows." The quiet breeze carried her words upward, stirring the hem of her robes where she floated.

Before them stretched a grove of skeletal trees, their blackened branches twisting like arthritic fingers against the four-mooned sky.

"Tell me, what do these barren sentinels whisper to your spirit?" the voice asked. This time, laced with the faintest trace of emotion.

"Forgive me if I’m wrong, but to me, they are a portrait of resilience. Even stripped bare, they stand like soldiers unyielding. There’s dignity in endurance, in persisting when everything else has fallen away." Shenlian Yingyue studied them before answering.

"Their strength lies in their vulnerability. That ’clawing’ isn’t weakness, it’s defiance. A refusal to collapse, even when the world has taken everything. Living things, nature, the universe all hold a silent persistence. If we learn to listen, we’ll recognize that same power within ourselves." She paused, then added.

A droplet struck her cheek, not water, but liquid emerald. The green rain began its ghostly descent.

"And this?" asked the voice as jewel-toned rivulets painted the stones beneath them.

"Nature’s rebellion against expectation, A reminder that nature’s palette is boundless," she replied.

"Who decided rain must be colorless? This is the sky dreaming aloud the heavens can mourn, envy, create. It can be a blessing, a curse or a mystery." She thought of Bing Xue’s strange reaction to the rain and wondered.

A long silence followed. Then...

"You are young, yet your wisdom surpasses most beings I’ve encountered. You wear your youth like a disguise. In thirty brief years, you’ve grasped what millennia-old sages still struggle to comprehend." The tone was steady, like a gentle breeze carrying the sound of a distant zither, comforting, reassuring. A shower of peach blossoms materialized in the air, their petals swirling around Shenlian Yingyue as the voice continued:

"Everyone sees the world through their own lens. The universe holds endless truths. Don’t let others’ doubts shake your belief. Real understanding doesn’t come from evidence, it rises from within. Trust your heart, and keep going. Well said!" This time, the voice resonated like the gentle pluck of a zither, soothing and melodic.

As the last words faded, Shenlian Yingyue felt an inexplicable warmth spread through her meridians, not the fierce burn of cultivation breakthrough, but the gentle glow of a winter hearth. The very air seemed to hum in resonance with her breathing, as if the world itself approved this truth.

"Thank you for your guidance, Immortal. I will carry your words with me always. Your words are jade seeds planted in fertile soil." Shenlian Yingyue knelt, bowing deeply.

"I have waited long for one worthy of my legacy. Rather than let my Sacred Land fade into the void, I would see them wielded by you. With them, you could shape the world anew." the voice murmured.

"Might I ask, who you are?" Shenlian Yingyue’s breath caught.

A translucent figure materialized, slender, ethereal, undeniably feminine.

"I am the Forgotten Immortal."

"Immortal Fairy, your name is Qing Luan?" Shenlian Yingyue’s mind raced, then recognition flashed.

A beat of stunned silence.

"How did you know?"