Prologue (1/2)
The world is relative.
The Central Continent and the Great Western Island are separated from each other by the ocean, but they are distantly opposite of each other. The east has a high altitude, so it seems the sky is also higher. There the clouds rise up from the sea to dry land, without stopping they float endlessly. In the end they gather together, in the entire year they will not scatter.
This is the tomb of clouds—the grave of all clouds in the world.
In the innermost depths of the tomb of clouds sits a lonely mountain. The summit leads to the endless sky; no one knows where it goes.
Tales say the world is made up of five continents. Each continent has its own different landscapes. Only those who possess the lifespans of immortals can see all the different landscapes. To normal people, the tales are tales. They do not know where the other continents are, do not know how to reach them, do not know that the lonely mountain within tomb of clouds leads to the path to the other continents.
Naturally, there is also nobody that has seen the scenery high above the clouds. Here, the serene clouds are like white silk spreading out in all directions, seemingly without end. Above the endless sky mirror is black endless abyss, inside are countless number of stars.
Suddenly, two stars light up, getting brighter and brighter, they quickly reach the sky mirror. When those two stars arrive before the mirror, it becomes clear that they are not stars but two balls of holy fire.
On this mirror surface that separates the real world from the abyss appeared a spider web of cracks, but in a moment it was restored.
Those two balls of flame, through some magical means, appeared on the other side of the mirror surface in the real world. In the thin atmosphere, the two flames burned incessantly, warping the air and causing it constantly change shape—those are not balls of flame, but eyes.
The entire world, because of this grand descent, is in an uproar. Light is constantly being reflected; on the surface of the clouds appeared a long shadow like a mountain. The space began to warp, as if it was about to break.
A great golden dragon emerged from within the clouds.
The distant sun was completely obscured by its enormous body. The entire world above the clouds consequently grew dim, all around the air rapidly grew colder, and ice began to crystallize in the clouds. The countless rays of light became strange flickers on the crystal surface. Heaven and Earth changed colors; truly this dragon was an awe-inspiring existence.
The great golden dragon looked down upon the world, its eyes indifferent.
The view above the clouds, it had already seen many times.
The dragon flew towards the lonely mountain on the horizon. As it approached, its terrifying dragon body submerged itself into the cloudy abyss, completely vanishing from sight. The endless quantities of fog were cut open by that terrifying dragon’s body. The crags and cliffs of the lonely mountain are extremely precipitous; no plants grew there, not even moss. The deathly stillness made it seem like a tomb.
Just like this the dragon flew through the foggy abyss. Many days and nights passed. Who knows how far it had flown, but it had never left the fog. It met no other beings, but one could faintly see that on the mountain crags appeared moss. The fog had also grown thicker, or perhaps the pressure it gave off was the cause. The fog began to change shape into many crystals. These water droplets also made the air moister.
The dragon bore these transformations with no interest, continuing to fly downward.
The plant life within the lonely mountain gradually grew more and more abundant; the air moister, the water drops pooled in the cliffs gradually became countless thin, leaf-sized streams. These countless thin streams of water flowed down the cliffs into the fog.
As the golden dragon gazed upon these countless streams of water, the look within its eyes became more concentrated, the two divine flames grew more serene—this place was the tomb of clouds, but it was also the source of all water.
Of these countless streams falling from the lonely mountain, the dragon chose one.
The golden dragon flew silently along this single water way, flying countless days and night, almost as if it would repeat again, until suddenly…the fog in front of him scattered.
Before the fog, was the earth.
The bottom of the clouds was flat and smooth, calmly rising and falling in accordance with the ground. Perfectly protecting the space between the clouds and the earth was five feet of distance. Coincidentally this was the height of the average man, as if the Creator himself had fashioned this space. This space that was five feet tall, the surface seemed to go on endlessly, with faint rays of light, but no sun to be seen. On the surface flowed countless streams of water.
The fog dissipated on the dragon’s body, revealing a small stream.
This small stream originated from the moist dew of the lonely mountain. Clear, tranquil, and cold, in the stream there was a wooden basin, in the basin were several layers of cloth, on the cloth was an infant—the infant’s complexion was blue, eyes closed, it was clear that it had just been born not too long ago.
The mist over the stream was like the blossoms of a flower, opening countless thousands of petals, clustering, rushing, scattering, making a chi chi noise; then a golden dragon even larger than a palace slowly emerged from the mist and made its way to the riverside.
The 5 foot space between the mists and the river was quite narrow to the dragon—the golden dragon’s physique was hidden within the mists, part of its head was also hidden within the mists. It made the dragon seem all the more majestic, mysterious, terrifying.
The golden dragon quietly waited by the riverside.
The wooden basin floated on the water, bobbing up and down.
In this insignificant wooden basin was this abandoned, eyes closed, blue-faced, newly born infant.
……
……
The fog gradually scattered, everything returned its serene and tranquil state.
However, this peace was only temporary…in the deepest depths of the mist, all the way till the lonely mountain; all at once there were countless mournful sounds, panic-stricken whistling and howling!
In this seemingly lifeless world, there was in reality many birds and beasts. Everywhere within the fog was the sound of many flapping wings. There was also the sound as if a unicorn was heedlessly destroying countless tens of thousands of trees in its rush to escape; there was even the extremely brilliant cry of a phoenix!
A string of divine and intangible fire emerged from the river side and spread to the horizon. The moist grass suddenly became incomparably dry, even the plants within the water suddenly curled up!
The golden dragon remained expressionless, noble, and apathetic; lord of all under Heaven.
All the beasts in the world under the clouds all fled, the dragon paid no attention to it. Even if the phoenix fled, the dragon paid no attention to it. The dragon only stared at the small stream, stared at the wooden basin floating on the stream. From the lonely mountain fell tens of thousands of little streams, but the dragon looked at only this particular stream. After 30000 years, the dragon only descended to this world for this infant in the wooden basin, who could shift its gaze?
A very thin piece of silk slowly fell. This piece of silk was golden on the outside; on the inside it was a divine pure white, it seemed as if it was giving off its own light. The front of the piece of silk was very thin, but gradually grew thicker towards the end until it grew as thick as an arm. The surface of the silk was perfectly smooth. It seemed to penetrate the depths of the cloudy abyss, making it even more beautiful.
This piece of silk seemed to be made of gold or jade, giving off a very heavy feeling. But in fact it was very light, swaying with the breeze from the brook, as if it were dancing, wanting to touch that wooden basin, only to again draw back.
It was the golden dragon’s whisker.
Now, the divine fire within the golden dragon’s eyes was no longer in that eternally calm state, the eyes had gone from apathetic to pondering, as if hesitating over something. The two dragon whiskers, like two soft fingers, lightly touched the edge of the wooden basin floating on the river, as if gently stroking it, but in reality not touching it at all.
This golden dragon had already lived countless years, possessed unimaginable knowledge, yet this simple wooden basin presented to it an unsolvable problem—the mood within the dragon’s eyes became more and more complex: there was longing, vigilance, hesitation, and finally, struggle, perhaps unintentional, perhaps intentional. A slight change in the breeze, the edge of the wooden basin that should have touched the dragon’s whiskers swept past, until finally the whiskers were able to touch the wooden basin for the first time, even brushing the infant’s ear!
This light touch brought about a violent reaction—the two divine fires within the golden dragon’s eyes suddenly exploded, becoming a myriad of stars. Within that ocean of stars came an undisguised callous and greedy desire!
This desire, it was praiseworthy, it was moving.
It praised life, it was moved by life.
It was life’s most primal longing.
The golden dragon gazing at the wooden basin, opened its mouth, dragon’s breath like broken jade poured out.
The infant’s eyes were still closed; it simply did not know what would happen in the next moment.
A shadow enveloped the stream.
Dragon’s breath surrounded the wooden basin on all sides.
In the next moment, the wooden basin and the infant within would become the golden dragon’s food.
At this moment.
A hand was put on the edge of the wooden basin, pulling it out of the river!
This was a hand covered with scars; thin, weak, and small.
Hua hua, the water’s surface was broken. That pair of hands pulled the wooden basin and ran to the creek edge.
The owner of that hand was a three or four year old Daoist boy.
The boy pulled the basin to the stream edge and hid it between a stone and his own body, then drew a sword from his belt and turned to look at the terrifying, enormous golden dragon’s head.
This was a very strange boy.
He was blind in one eye, missing one ear, when he was running on the water one could tell that his legs were somewhat crippled. From his empty sleeve, one could see that he also only had one hand.
No wonder he had to first put the basin behind his back before he was able to pull out the sword.
Seeing that enormous dragon head above the water, the small boy’s complexion was pale. His teeth were chattering, not because of the ice cold water from the stream, but because of the fear in his heart.
This was his first time seeing a real dragon. He didn’t even know what a dragon was; only that it was terrifying. Yet he did not flee, but held that flimsy looking sword and tightly and securely hid that basin behind him.
The golden dragon gazed indifferently at the boy, only a being as strong and powerful as it could tell that deep within the abyss of its eyes were anger and cruelty.
The boy did not say anything, face pale, fear extreme, but he did not let go of the basin.
The golden dragon grew angrier, dragon’s breath encompassed both sides of the stream, and death was coming.
The sword was left in the water, the boy took the basin and held it to his chest.
The golden dragon’s scales rubbed against the mist, bring about countless divine fires, causing the water within the stream to boil.
At this moment, a middle-aged Daoist appeared on the by the stream.
The middle-aged Daoist looked upon the golden dragon with a calm expression.
The heavenly fire over the stream was suddenly extinguished.
The golden dragon looked upon the middle-aged Daoist and spoke a dragon word!
This dragon word was extremely long, almost as if it continued on forever without stopping, it surely contained an extremely complex meaning, hearing it was like listening to a most complicated piece of music, but also like the sound of nature’s most horrifying storm, it was a mixture of unimaginable power!
The middle-aged Daoist looked at the golden dragon and spoke one word.
It was a single syllable word, its pronunciation extremely strange and difficult to understand, it did not seem like a human language at all, a fragment seemed to contain endless meaning, overflowing with ancient meaning.
The golden dragon understood, but it did not agree.