Peking Opera Cat: I Became A Zi's Brother

"..."

Mo Yun stood at the edge of the Palm Cliff. The wind blew the chill of the icy lake into his bones, but he seemed unaware, his eyes always fixed on the ice in the distance.

It was already dark, with only a few lights on in the houses. They looked particularly dim in the empty night, as if they would be blown out by the wind at any time.

His fingertips pressed against the ice on the cliff wall, and ice chips fell down through his fingers, but he felt nothing in his palms.

The rhythmic energy under the ice stagnated for a moment, more obvious than in the evening - the blue-gray air was moving, and just now it even followed the cracks in the rocks at the bottom of the lake and probed towards the palm cliff, like a tentative claw.

……

He has been having the same dream these days.

In the dream, a huge crack appeared on the icy lake, and blue-gray chaotic energy rushed out. He wanted to stop it, but his hands and feet felt as heavy as if they were filled with lead. He could only watch as the energy spread over his mother's window frame, entangled Xiaoqing's clothes, and even penetrated into the room where Mo Zi was recuperating.

Every time I woke up with a start, my forehead was covered in sweat. I got up and looked. The window frame was fine, the light in Xiaoqing's room was still on, and Mo Zi's medicine bowl had just been emptied. But I couldn't suppress the panic in my heart.

"elder brother."

The voice behind him was very soft, with a hint of cautious tentativeness.

Mo Yun turned around and saw Xiaoqing standing at the end of the stone steps, holding a hand warmer in her hand, with some snow on the edges of her shoes - probably because the road was slippery and she was walking slowly.

"Why are you here?"

His voice was a little hoarse, but he didn't even notice it.

"I'm not asking you to go to bed early."

Xiaoqing didn't come up, so she just stood there and handed the hand warmer forward:

"Mom said you haven't come back yet, so she asked me to bring you a heater."

She paused, her eyes shining brightly in the night.

"I just passed by the frozen lake and saw some strange ice patterns on the lakeside. Like... like something had scratched it."

Mo Yun's heart sank.

He deliberately laid a layer of shallow ice on the edge of the lake to cover up the traces left by the chaotic energy, but he didn't expect that she would still see it.

This child is very thoughtful and has probably been secretly paying attention to the movements of the ice lake in the past few days.

"It's the wind."

He walked down two stone steps and took the hand warmer. He deliberately touched her hand with the back of his hand - it was indeed cold, probably because she had been standing at the foot of the cliff for quite a while.

"Go back, I'm leaving now."

Xiaoqing didn't move, but stared at his cuffs - there was a piece of broken ice there, which was rubbed against the cliff wall just now.

"Brother, are you... feeling uncomfortable?"

She asked softly,

"You haven't smiled much these past few days. I even heard you standing by the lake at night."

Mo Yun tightened her grip on the hand warmer.

The charcoal in the stove burned brightly, and the heat climbed up through his palms, but the chill in his heart remained. He tried to force a smile, but the corners of his mouth were frozen and unable to move—not even a light lie could be made up in front of those clear eyes.

"No."

He finally said this, his voice so soft as if he was afraid someone would hear his flaws.

"I'm just a little worried about the Yunli of the ice lake. I'd rather keep a closer eye on it."

Xiaoqing nodded, didn't ask any more questions, and just took two steps towards him:

"Then I'll walk back with you. Mom said the wind won't be so cold if we walk together."

She didn't mention the ice lake again, nor did she mention the weariness in his eyes. She just leaned towards him quietly as they walked side by side on the stone steps, as if she wanted to use her body temperature to block some of the wind for him.

"..."

Mo Yun looked at the lights getting closer and closer under the stone steps, and the heat from the hand warmer finally seeped into her fingertips.

He knew that he couldn't hide it for much longer. As long as the chaotic energy was not removed, the sadness in his eyes would not be hidden.

But at least now, there is someone by my side. Even if we don’t say anything, the suffocating heaviness in my heart feels a little lighter.

The sound of the wind was still ringing in his ears, but his hands holding the hand warmer finally felt a little warm.

……

Mo Yun was startled by a faint sound.

It was not a clear sound, but a hissing sound like water seeping through cracks in the rocks under the ice. Wrapped in the morning mist, it seeped in through the window cracks, bringing with it the unique chill of an ice lake.

He opened his eyes. The sky outside the window was just getting light. The outline of Palm Cliff was still immersed in gray-blue fog, but the voice was already lingering in his ears - like someone was calling his name softly at the bottom of the icy lake, with a trembling urgency.

He has been feeling uneasy these days.

The chaotic energy was hidden deeper and deeper, and blue-gray lines were faintly visible at the edge of the ice lake, but it never revealed its real moves, as if it was waiting for something.

He went to the lakeside to weave ice silk at night and could feel the rhythmic force swaying gently under the ice, like a string trembling in the wind.

Now this "hissing" sound is more like the string finally breaking.

Without disturbing anyone, he put on a thick cloak and walked towards the icy lake.

When I passed by Xiaoqing's window, I heard her turn over. She probably had a dream and mumbled something vaguely.

Mo Yun walked lightly, and the heaviness in his heart became even heavier - he was afraid that the call was a trap, that the chaotic energy was deliberately leading him away, and even more afraid that something really happened in the ice lake and he couldn't even hide it.

The closer you get to the icy lake, the clearer the sound becomes.

It's not the flow of water, but the rhythmic power under the ice that is "trembling", as if someone is quickly drawing a fingertip across the ice, producing a fine tremolo.

As he stood on the lakeshore, the morning mist was rising from the ice, blurring his shadow.

The lake looked the same as usual, with ice spikes hanging in the fog, and even the blue-gray lines were so faint that they were almost invisible, but he knew something was wrong.

This wasn't the chaotic energy stirring. It was the icy lake itself stirring, like a wounded person, unable to help but groan.

"Are you calling me?"

Mo Yun squatted down, and as soon as his fingertips touched the ice, he was sucked in by a chill - not the chill of chaos, but the chill of the loss of his rhyme power.

The tremor under the ice climbed up along the fingertips, carrying an urgent "pain", as if saying "I can't hold on anymore."

His heart skipped a beat.

I used to think that the chaotic energy was just corrosive, but now I understand that the ice lake has been entangled for too long.

Those blue-gray lines look shallow, but their roots have long been rooted in the veins at the bottom of the lake, like vines wrapped around a tree trunk, sucking away water bit by bit.

Mo Yun closed his eyes and let his power flow down through his fingertips.

This time, he did not look to see where the chaotic energy was hidden, but just followed the trembling sound to the bottom of the lake - through the half-melted ice, through the pebbles on the bottom of the lake, and touched the flowing blue-green rhythmic power.

It should be as smooth as silk in the past, but now it is like a crumpled cloth, with tiny cracks everywhere, and the chaotic energy is lying on the cracks, like a worm gnawing at the wound.

"hiss--"

The vibrato suddenly became rapid.

Mo Yun saw that where the rhyme power was the strongest, there was a ball of faint light, like a star wrapped in ice - that was the "rhyme core" of the body sect, the root of the ice lake.

At this moment, the star was shaking, and the surrounding rhythmic energy was flowing towards it, but it could not fill the gap on its edge. The chaotic energy was gathering towards the gap like a colony of ants smelling blood.

It turns out that the ice lake is afraid.

It was afraid that it could not protect the star, and that the gap would become larger and larger, and eventually the entire sect's energy would be dispersed.

That's why it called out to him, like a cornered man crying out for help to the only one who could hear.

Mo Yun's fingertips left white marks on the ice.

He remembered his mother saying, "When your heart is calm, the water will be calm too." But at this moment his heart just couldn't calm down.

He could use ice silk to block the chaotic energy, and he could guard the Qi channel in the palm of his hand, but he could not stop the gap on the edge of the rhyme core from getting bigger - that was an injury that had accumulated over time and could not be repaired in a short time.

"I see."

He spoke softly to the ice, his voice a little hoarse. Rhythmic energy emanated from his fingertips, like a thin veil, gently covering the gap in the rhyme core.

The trembling sound under the ice paused, like a comforted child, temporarily stopping crying.

But he knew it was useless.

His rhyme power is like a cup of water, which can temporarily block the gap, but cannot fill the space that has been chewed out.

The chaotic energy watched in the dark, as if mocking his futility - as long as his rhythmic power weakened, as long as he was distracted for a moment, it would pounce on him immediately.

The morning mist gradually dissipated, and the sunlight fell on the ice, reflecting his lonely shadow.

Mo Yun stood up and walked back, his steps heavier than when he came.

The call of the ice lake made him see the truth: this confrontation could not be won by just standing still. The chaotic energy was being consumed, the ice lake was being consumed, and he was also being consumed.

When I passed by Xiaoqing's window, I heard her turning over from inside. She was probably about to wake up.

Mo Yun stopped and touched the heater in his sleeve pocket - it was the one Xiaoqing had given him yesterday, saying "It's better to have it in your pocket than to let it get cold."

Warmth seeped out from the cloth, like a thin needle, gently piercing the heaviness in my heart.

At least he wasn't truly desperate.

The ice lake would call him, which meant it had not given up; he could hear it, which meant he could still hold on.

Even if the gap cannot be filled, even if the chaotic energy is still in the dark, he has to stand here - just like the ice lake guards the rhyme core, he has to guard the warmth that makes him feel that "he must hold on."

Mo Yun tightened her sleeves and walked towards home.

The icy lake behind him returned to silence, but he knew that the call was still there, like a string tied to his heart, gently pulling, reminding him: Don't let up.