Chapter 52: Dear Friend

“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She praised: “Just surprised—such exquisite art exists in the world.”
“Of course. Ancient texts record many marvelous arts—obscure—later generations haven’t cracked them.”
The War God’s eyes shone: “And construction isn’t for everyone—only divine power can wield it. Even great immortal Diting hasn’t enough strength.”
She’d seen Bai Yanci use construction—not much interest herself.
First half skimmed—second half caught her. She asked: “If a great immortal body held divine power—not yet a god—could they use construction?”
The War God thought: “Interesting question. In theory yes. Even artifacts that won’t choose a master—only divine power can drive them.”
After the gods’ war all twelve fell. Moon’s fallen god—only Xi Yue left.
Bai Yanci had years without Xi Yue—part divine power wasn’t strange—could use construction through it.
But Jade Dust? Where did Jade Dust’s divine power come from? How drive the Spirit Tide jade pendant?
Jade Dust wielded construction with ease—copying pendant, tower space—effortless.
While she dazed the War God reached and took the hairpin from her head.
The War God was taller—she had to look up slightly to see her face.
“Sister Milt, where’d you go?” The War God waved the pin before her eyes. “I’ll keep this till tomorrow then return it. Late now—back to Longevity Hall. Don’t forget our appointment tomorrow afternoon.”
Pin gone—hair fell like a waterfall—the War God already gone.
She gathered hair, braided a modern plait, let it loose again—somehow wistful.
Back at Longevity Hall at last—Cailan had waited long at the door.
“My Lord, you’re back.” Urgent. “I turned and you were gone—I feared you forgot the way, didn’t know where you went—almost reported the War God.”
“I was with the War God just now.”
Cailan breathed out: “With the War God I’m relieved. If you were lost she could bring you back.”
She laughed: “How would I forget the way home? That’s exaggerated.”
Besides—the War God took her pin and vanished.
If she really got lost and didn’t know where the War God ran—no one to escort her home.
Seeing Cailan’s faint disdain she blinked: “I didn’t… really forget the way before?”
Cailan nodded: “Without the War God escorting you wouldn’t know where you’d ended up. After one twelve-gods council you even forgot your own name.”
Milt’s memory loss was that severe. She asked: “Do you know what’s wrong with my memory? How did I get it?”
“After disasters and war in the mortal world humans killed each other—even lost will to live. Heavy negative feeling drained your divine power too.”
Cailan frowned: “To avoid negative force consuming you, you sealed part of your power—memory illness since. When emotion load rebounds you forget a piece of memory.”
Milt was Life God from heaven and earth’s spirit—source power from all living things.
Life force—the embryo of spiritual flame.
Milt’s power tied to mortal world’s life vein—positive or negative emotion—only received.
Made by the mortal world—undone by it too.
“Why did the War God ask me to train? Help the memory?”
“The War God thinks so. You trained long, even secluded—no effect.” Cailan sighed. “She means well. Your power fades as the mortal world churns. Inviting you to Spirit Tide Pool—she doesn’t want to give up.”
“All right. I understand.”
Hearing it—the War God truly treated her with flawless heart.
In the end how did Diting stir things until the War God killed her dearest friend with her own hands?
In the bedchamber she looked in the mirror—overlapped with herself a thousand years later.
She resembled Milt already. After abandoning human body her modern face drew closer to Milt’s.
Soon she’d look entirely like Milt.
Strange bed in a strange age—tossed—no sleep.
She thought of Bai Yanci’s moon—strict rank, inhuman, interest above all.
When she went to the moon palace she hadn’t felt suffocation—immortals there seemed fairly free.
Diting’s rule changed that.
She slept without knowing—woke at noon—time for the appointment.
Cailan wouldn’t rest easy—insisted on coming to the moon palace—afraid she’d forget the way. She gave in.
At the moon palace the War God stood hands behind back at Spirit Tide Pool—waiting a while.
“Sister Milt, you’re late.” The War God turned, soft.
Eyes swept Cailan—face unchanged—but she could feel displeasure.
“Which art to learn?” The War God thought. “How about construction?”
Cailan puzzled: “War God—ordinary minor immortals study arts systematically. Gods grasp at a glance—need study?”
“Usually yes—but construction is ancient—not like common arts.” The War God looked at Cailan. “Your cultivation improved lately—like Diting—you could draw tribulation and ascend.”
Cailan’s eyes lit. The War God went on: “I need private words with your Lord. Return to Longevity Hall—I’ll send her back myself. No mishap.”
---
When Cailan left the War God said gentle: “Returning this to you.”
In her puzzled gaze the War God handed back the hairpin—taken from her hair last night.
Carved on it—a pink rose—craft exquisite, lifelike.
She wasn’t good with pins—meant to put it away—the War God stopped her: “Sister Milt, won’t you wear it?”
Truth: “I don’t know how to pin hair.”
Modern people a thousand years later rarely used hairpins—how use something this complex?
The War God took the pin back: “Sister Milt, turn around.”
Tone—voice—like Bai Yanci’s.
But this was antiquity—Bai Yanci not born—how could the War God before her be her lover?
Hair done—reflection in Spirit Tide Pool.
The War God’s hands were deft—few moves neat—showed her beauty best.
No other reaction—the War God spoke slow: “Sister Milt, forgot again? First time we went to the mortal world together—I bought you this pin.”
She shook her head—no memory of Milt at all.
The War God lost a little, sighed: “The peddler who sold it—how many times through rebirth’s wheel by now.”
“Generation after generation of men; year after year the river moon looks the same.” She sighed soft. “Things shift, seas change land. This moment—that line fits.”
Beside endless immortal years human life was brief.
The War God said: “Sister Milt, I will find a cure for your memory illness.”
Two days together—she could see the War God’s heart was real.
She wasn’t the Milt the War God knew—didn’t know why they’d break in future—but couldn’t bear the War God kept deceived.
“You must beware Diting.”
“Hm? Sister Milt, what did you say?”
Like an invisible wall—her voice blocked in another time.
She didn’t give up: “Diting lurks beside you—to frame the twelve gods and become ruler of the immortal realm!”
The War God tilted head—still puzzled.
Several tries—she gave up—couldn’t speak words that would change history.
To this age she was only witness—passenger in the long river.
The War God taught construction—hard indeed. Different difficulty from barrier arts—she failed several tries.
When dusk fell the War God didn’t take her straight to Longevity Hall—went to War God Palace.
“Sister Milt, I raised a few more rabbits—come see?”
Inside the palace—a dozen rabbits of different colors leapt on the lawn.
Because of Bai Yanci she liked rabbits.
But she had a home now—one rabbit at home—even crossing a thousand years she couldn’t favor another.
She asked: “These too from the mortal world?”
The War God picked one up, laughed light: “These are moon rabbits—Chang’e couldn’t keep them all—I took a few. Prettier fur, live longer than mortal rabbits—that’s all.”
In the herd one was most beautiful—caught the eye at once.
Her gaze stayed longer—almost saw an old friend—then: “Have you thought what to name them?”
“Just rabbits without spirit—why names?” But though she said so the War God indulged the casual ask: “This one beside Chang’e is a jade rabbit—status different—how about Yanci?”