Mountain of the Four Tributaries
It was late afternoon.
A cold wind blew over the mountains, and grey clouds swallowed the sun, bringing a chill to the air. Sai had returned to the plateau—now sitting silently upon a rock.
One by one, the disciples arrived.
Wei Lian was the first. His black hair was tied back in a ponytail, and his green robes were smudged with earth. He looked directly at his master, curiosity written plainly across his face.
— Master Sai.
He spoke politely and sat down, waiting for the others.
Yan Li followed shortly after. She wore the same green tunic as her brother, though ink stains marked the fabric. At her waist hung her yellow-tipped brush—a faithful companion on her journey.
She sat beside Wei Lian, her posture straight, barely containing the smile on her face.
— Master Sai. Junior Brother Wei.
Finally, Wang Tao appeared. His steps were measured, neither slow nor hurried. His green robes were adorned with red borders—the mark of his status within the Sect. Two daggers were fastened to his belt.
He took his place beside his siblings, his expression serious, his eyes sharp.
— Master. Siblings.
He greeted them cordially.
Sai looked at the three of them in silence, then finally smiled.
— Before I explain why I called you here... Yan Li, Wei Lian.
— Yes, Master!
They both responded in unison.
— You must learn the cleaning spell. As future immortals, you cannot present yourselves in such a state.
His voice was firm, but his smile betrayed his amusement.
— Yes, Master! We will learn it!
Sai nodded, satisfied.
Silence fell over the plateau. Wang Tao, unable to resist, finally spoke.
— Master, about the Qi on the mountain...
— Shhh.
Sai cut him off, waving his arms.
— We aren't going to talk about that right now.
The three disciples exchanged confused glances. Sai turned his gaze toward the clouds.
— The clouds are grey. Some would say it's going to rain.
He paused. Wang Tao narrowed his eyes, trying to catch the hidden meaning; Yan Li watched the sky in contemplation; Wei Lian observed quietly.
— But that is the beauty of cultivation: we do not rely on luck for such things.
Sai raised his hands—with a brief, sharp movement, he paused. The three disciples watched the sky, curious.
Then, they felt it. Moisture.
The atmosphere shifted. Drops began to fall upon their faces, one by one. The heavens seemed to weep. The three looked at their master, mouths agape, as water began to stream down their bodies.
— Beautiful, isn't it?
Sai asked, smiling, his hair plastered to his forehead. They could only nod, lost in the moment.
Then, he spoke as if merely contemplating the weather:
— I am going on a journey.
Silence. Wei Lian blinked.
— M-Master?
— A few days, perhaps weeks.
Sai looked toward the horizon.
— Fate calls me elsewhere.
Yan Li felt a sharp pang in her chest.
— But what about us?
Sai finally looked at them and smiled.
— You...
He paused. For a fraction of a second, his eyes flashed with an unreadable light.
— You must stay well.
He concluded in a mysterious tone.
Wang Tao clenched his fists. Right now? Why?
— Master, we—
— Of course you need me.
Sai interrupted, stating the obvious.
— But not for every single step.
He reached into his spatial bag and pulled out a small brooch. It was made of dark jade, carved with a pattern of interlocking chains. He held it out to Wang Tao.
— Never take it off. It might save you in a moment of risk. Who knows...
He trailed off, as if doubting his own words.
Wang Tao took the brooch. It weighed more than it should have.
Sai then produced two sealed letters. A faint glow of spiritual formations shimmered along their edges.
— Yan Li, Wei Lian.
He handed one to each of them.
— Do not try to open them. You will open them at the right time.
Wei Lian stared at the letter.
— How will we know when?
— You will know.
The rain continued to fall. Sai stood up.
— Ah, and...
He turned back as if remembering a minor detail.
— Keep training. Don't give me extra work when I return.
He turned again and walked away. Three steps, five, ten.
And then, there was only mist.
The three remained standing in the rain. Yan Li looked at her letter, then at the empty space where Sai had been. Wei Lian pressed his letter against his chest. Wang Tao touched the brooch, feeling its strange weight.
The plateau felt different now—smaller, quieter.
Empty.