Chapter Five: Where Falling Petals Speak Warmth
The torches flared back to life, and a collective sigh rose from the group.
Gui Tian lifted his foot, ready to move forward—but Gui Ye held him back.
"Wait."
Gui Ye narrowed his eyes, staring at the massive black silhouette overhead, thoughtful.
If the fire god meant no harm, then…
He cleared his throat, cupped his hands, and shouted politely into the air:
"Oh the God of Flame! Thank you for lighting our way through Gui Mountain, for illuminating our hearts with your divine flame!"
His voice echoed across the cavern walls, laced with a boyish cunning.
The others exchanged uncertain glances but dared not interrupt.
Gui Ye carried on, grinning:
"Such power! Truly awe-inspiring! I wonder… might the Great Flame God be willing to display the brilliance again, so we mere mortals might bask in its glory?"
At that, the shadow above twitched.
And then—
A giant mouth opened in the shadow with a mechanical *clack*, and a jet of flame roared into the air!
The entire mountain hollow blazed with searing white light. The mist instantly vanished. The stalactites lit up like crystal spears. Even the farthest stone fissures glowed in dazzling detail.
For a moment, it was brighter than day.
Everyone froze.
Torches in hand, eyes wide as saucers, they forgot to breathe.
Gui Ye shielded his face and chuckled, squinting through the glare.
"…That's bright enough, I'd say."
---
With the path now clear, they quickly navigated past the cracks and reached the exit.
Ye turned, looking once more at the blazing shape overhead—what had once been darkness now shone like a miniature sun.
But then—
The creature heaved, and a cloud of thick smoke erupted from its gut.
"Cough—cough!"
It shook violently, like a coal that had burned too long. Its light dimmed in wheezing bursts. And at last, in the fading mist, they saw it clearly:
Round, stubby, black as soot, with four squat limbs clinging desperately to the cave wall. Its belly-mouth still belched little flares of fire.
This… this wasn't a fearsome god of flame.
It was a leaky pot. A walking boiler!
Astonished silence hung over the group.
Gui Tian twitched his mouth, and after a long pause… pinched his own thigh.
Gui Ye, meanwhile, sprang forward with dramatic flair.
"The God Of Fire, noble and brave!" he cried, hands clasped. "Might we ask for your divine name, so we may offer incense and prayer in your honor?"
Praise first, person second.
The 'boiler' perked up immediately, its stubby legs trembling in glee. A faint blush rose across its charred surface.
"Gui-gee! Gui-gee! GUI-gee!" it cried, pounding its round belly like a drum.
Ye raised a brow and exclaimed:
"So the name of the god is Gui Gee! A name that thunders through mountains—I am blessed to hear it today!"
With great ceremony, he fished through his clothes, pulling out a mashed, mud-caked bundle of herbs, still clinging with suspicious hairs.
Carefully, reverently, he offered it up.
Tian looked away in silent agony.
Gui Gee gobbled the offering eagerly. After a loud churn in its belly:
It spat out two blackened pellets and handed them to Ye.
Before he could check them, Gui Gee broke into an excited dance, chanting in rhythmic bursts:
"Gui-Gee! Gui-gee-geee—Gui-gee GUI-geeee!"
"…?"
Everyone else looked lost. The sounds meant nothing.
But Ye stood solemn and serious, nodding as if receiving divine prophecy:
"Of course! How wise you are, Great One!"
This only made Gui Gee more animated. Its belly gurgled with fire, and it babbled louder, faster. And Ye kept pace, answering as though they shared a perfect language.
"Gui-gee gui-gee!"
"A tale so grand it stirs the soul!"
"Gui-gee GUI-Gee—Gui-GEE-ge!"
"Your courage moves me to tears!"
On and on it went. Gui gee ranted, Ye praised. At some point, he even teared up.
The others could only stand there, torches in hand, blankly thinking the same thought:
…Wait. Can he actually understand it?
Eventually, Gui Gee gave its belly a pat, waved a stubby leg in farewell, and hopped off into the mist.
Tian watched until it vanished.
Then turned to Ye, hesitating.
"…So. What exactly did it say?"
Ye shrugged.
"No idea. I don't speak boiler."
Gui Tian gaped. "Then what were you talking about?!"
"I didn't *understand* it," Gui Ye said, "but I could *guess* what it meant. Like I did with the water beast."
"…That counts?! And how did you know it was trying to light the path?"
Gui Ye glanced at the two soot-black pills in his palm.
"It was once a divine furnace," he said softly. "Fallen from the heavens. Tossed aside like junk. It just… wanted to be praised. To be useful. But it's clumsy."
He paused.
"At first, it tried to light the oil lamps—missed, and set clothes on fire. Then tried the torches—lit someone's hair. I waved mine in the air and… it finally hit the ceiling."
He looked up. Firelight flickered across his eyes.
"That's when I knew. It just wanted to help."
He tucked the pills into his robe.
---
After leaving the gorge, the road turned rough and wild. Strange creatures rustled in the trees, but none approached.
Ye, ever the herbalist, foraged happily.
"Ah! Isatis root—Anti-inflammatory!"
"And that's bisle! A painkiller!"
"Whoa—is that tuohu-chu? Keeps you lucid in nightmares!"
Gui Tian, meanwhile, gripped his blade tight, eyes locked on a tiger-faced bird perched above.
Beside him, Ye pranced about like a mountain thief with a bottomless basket.
Gui Tian couldn't take it anymore.
"Gui Ye!" he hissed. "It's nearly dawn—we're at the Pear Blossom Maze! Stop picking weeds and focus!"
Gui Ye turned lazily, a root in his mouth.
"The road's always ahead, brother. No point rushing—we're already in the fog."
Tian's eye twitched. He breathed deeply, then said low:
"We've reached the Maze. It changes yearly. No stars, no bearings. Once inside… even a few steps can lose you forever."
Ye gave a vague hum of agreement, still looking around.
*Ding-ling…*
A faint chime—like wind brushing glass—whispered from the woods.
Then wind.
And flowers.
Pear blossoms burst through the fog like drifting snow, petals swirling through the air. Fragrance thickened.
Gui Ye stopped.
On a wet, unremarkable stone, a single blossom landed.
He knelt.
Something fluttered across the petal—just for a moment.
A faint, ghost-pale shimmer.
Tian's voice called:
"Hurry! The trail is vanishing!"
Ye didn't move. He reached out and touched the blossom. It trembled.
Cold.
But beneath the cold, a hidden warmth.
He stilled.
In that instant, something called to him—through fog, through time—gentle and restrained, yet aching with longing.
A voice, almost a whisper. Calling his name.
He blinked. Then smiled.
"…Must be a good stuff."
And with that, he plucked the blossom and tucked it into his robe.