Blood-Red Immortal Slaying

Deep within the Heart of the Realm Abyss, a luminous wheel hangs in the void, reflecting the wisps of tea steam rising from the stone table.

Four stone stools surround the table, occupied by the most extraordinary beings since the dawn of creation.

The Founder’s voice drifts from the luminous wheel, mingling with the fragrance of morning-dew tea brewed from primordial spirit veins. “Is Old Zhou watching the locust plague in the mortal realm again?”

Zhou Yixian fingers a white piece, though his eyes are fixed on the void. “Someone has to remind them to stock up on grain.” He taps the board with a fingertip. The sound of his move stirs faint lights in a mustard-seed world: countless stars evolving within Tianlin’s dantian.

Mr. Ghost holds a frost-rimmed teacup, his gaze as deep as an abyss. “The underworld has prepared the Pool of Rebirth. In their next lives, everyone will be born into years of plenty.” As he speaks, the black and white pieces dissolve into pure energy. Half flows into the luminous wheel, the other half into the Heart of the Realm.

Yun Mian places a black piece, the trace of a sword scar lingering on his fingertips. “The spirit veins of the Fifth Realm are stable. My clone is putting the landscape map in order.” He looks toward the end of the fishing line, where Tianlin’s mustard-seed world is devouring the bait of primordial essence and growing steadily.

“I lost again!” Zhou Yixian slaps the table, but his eyes crinkle with a smile. “Next round, I’ll play black.”

The luminous wheel stirs, as if with a quiet laugh. Amid the curling tea steam, the sound of a chess piece striking the board shatters the void and awakens the slumbering laws.

For a thousand years, they have played chess here, watching dynasties rise and fall in the mortal realm and a mustard-seed realm grow into a world. Everything, from the grandeur of creation to the faint chirping of insects, drifts through their teacups and takes root in the spaces between the chess pieces.

It turns out the most moving kind of protection is not a world-shaking vow. It is someone calculating every secret of fate for you, someone guarding the cycle of rebirth for you, someone laying out the rivers and mountains for you, and someone quietly watching it all, brewing the years into tea with a lingering sweetness.