Chapter 87#
Genesis Nine#
Yu Feichen had no pain to numb. The drowsiness grew deeper. He blinked. In the soft light, everything before him blurred and faded. Faint lullaby melodies seemed to drift to his ears.
As he began to topple, Yu Feichen felt his forehead graze the crystal coffin’s edge. But under the eternal sleep flowers’ effects, even collision pain transformed into gentle caresses. His consciousness slowly dissipated into the faint fragrance.
After an indeterminate time, a hushed girl’s voice came from nearby.
“Knight Commander.”
“Knight Commander!”
“Knight——Commander——”
Yu Feichen opened his eyes. The eternal sleep flower scent still drifted around him. He raised his head and saw several white-robed temple attendants in the corridor entrance, earnestly calling to him. Upon seeing him wake, they exchanged knowing smiles.
Some unknown information surfaced in Yu Feichen’s mind.
Eternal sleep flowers symbolized endless joy and peace, granting living ones restful sleep and deceased ones eternal rest. Temple tradition had always been to use them as decoration. This resulted in one consequence: during eternal sleep flower season, those on temple duty easily fell asleep.
The youngest girl made a subtle gesture toward some direction, continuing quietly: “The priest will be coming through soon.”
Yu Feichen nodded acknowledgment. Only then did the girls laugh softly and depart.
After they left, Yu Feichen looked toward the center of this temple hall.
It was a solemn, austere hall with countless florid reliefs covering the walls and colorful paintings depicting creation across the ceiling. In the center knelt a youth in white robes, pale golden long hair falling across shoulders with soft, brilliant luster.
He was turned away from Yu Feichen, motionless, cradling an ancient tome in his arms.
Yu Feichen vaguely remembered that before falling asleep, this youth had been silently praying over this ancient tome, but upon waking, he was clutching it without letting go.
Yu Feichen suddenly felt his mood was quite good.
He grasped his knight commander sword’s cold, textured scabbard, using its chill to fully restore his wakefulness. At that moment, footsteps approached—the temple’s elderly priest passed by with several attendants.
Yu Feichen stood in his proper position, appearing diligent.
The elderly priest glanced at him, then looked toward the white-robed youth in the hall’s center, asking: “Why does the young master not study the prayer texts?”
Yu Feichen: “He is in contemplation.”
The elderly priest nodded satisfied and continued forward.
Yu Feichen watched the white-robed youth before him move slowly, picking up the tome again. Thus Yu Feichen stepped back slightly, noticing the lowered eyelashes still carrying drowsiness.
He had indeed been sleeping just now. The eternal sleep flowers had bloomed exceptionally intensely this year.
The elderly priest, already departed, suddenly stopped and turned back.
“The Day of Rest approaches,” the elderly priest said. “You must remain always at his side, never leaving.”
Yu Feichen responded with a faint acknowledgment, yet vaguely sensed something amiss.
Wasn’t it Resurrection Day approaching? What was the Day of Rest?
Resurrection Day, paradise… he looked around at everything, suddenly realizing this place was neither paradise nor quite the same as the Temple of Twilight.
Even the language he’d just spoken was ancient and elegant, not matching any accent from his memories.
He was dreaming.
And who was he dreaming of?
And who was he?
Yu Feichen looked toward the white-robed youth kneeling in the hall’s center, wanting to approach and see his face clearly, yet unable to control this dream-body.
Singing drifted from afar. In the eternal sleep flower sea outside, flower-gathering maidens hummed a gentle, lingering lullaby, pulling his consciousness ever deeper—Yu Feichen suddenly jolted, eyes flying open.
The dream instantly receded. Everything that happened before sleeping became clear again. Yu Feichen sat up, yet found himself no longer before the crystal coffin.
He was in another vast hall, on a white stone bed. This was a living quarters.
Floor-to-ceiling windows extended from ceiling to floor. Outside, wind swept through like misty white silk curtains. The spacious living quarters held only a few stone-carved furnishings. Beyond green ivy outside the windows lay a sea of snowy white flowers.
A white-robed attendant stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, watching him. Seeing him wake, she said: “I am called Xiatei, a temple attendant.”
“Where am I?” Yu Feichen asked.
“The Temple of Twilight.”
“Why am I here?” Yu Feichen asked. “What about the sleeping person?”
The moment these words left his mouth, that sleeping face in the crystal coffin surfaced before Yu Feichen’s mind again, and the hollow unease seized his heart once more.
Xiatei: “It brought you here.”
Yu Feichen seriously considered the meaning of her words.
In the mouths of all believers, officials, and temple attendants, the pronoun “It” pointed to only one person—that deity seemingly existing only in legends, the supreme god.
In the Temple of Twilight’s deepest chamber, in the crystal coffin cradled by countless eternal sleep flowers, lay a person who could only be one thing: the supreme god.
Yet for Yu Feichen, across countless worlds, there was only one person with that teardrop mole.
He remembered seeing that teardrop mole beneath the deity’s eye, then losing consciousness beside the crystal coffin. Upon waking, he found himself here. And the attendant Xiatei said it was “It” who brought him.
The illusion of early waking dissipated. Yu Feichen’s emotions gradually turned cold and empty. He said: “…Did It wake?”
After asking, he recalled the approaching holiday: “Has Resurrection Day arrived?”
“It arrives today,” Xiatei said.
Upon finishing, she gestured toward the terrace connected to the living quarters: “You may observe from there.”
Yu Feichen rose from bed. His cape and light armor had been removed, probably by the attendants.
He dressed again and walked directly toward the terrace, his expression unreadable.
Xiatei watched his retreating figure. Beneath her calm gaze lay subtle confusion.
She was a child of Landenworth, serving the deity in the Temple of Twilight for dozens of epochs. She was familiar with all of paradise’s officials. The newly emerged Disciplinary Deity and God of the Eternal Night from recent epochs had also visited, but this young, handsome youth was none of them. His appearance had even startled her.
At that moment, she had been preparing the deity’s ceremonial robes for Resurrection Day, sweeping the living quarters halls, about to go wait for It to awaken from slumber. Yet she saw the deity approaching slowly, cradling someone horizontally.
She didn’t understand, but never opposed the supreme deity’s will. She watched silently as It removed the cape and light armor impeding sleep, laying the youth upon the bed.
This was where the deity rested. In many epochs, no outsider had ever set foot here. After It departed, she observed the sleeping youth’s face and thought that since this wasn’t a known official or attendant, it must be a young believer favored by the deity.
Yet upon waking, this person showed no gratitude or admiration for the deity, only shocking coldness.
She rose and followed, walking to the terrace.
Yu Feichen stood behind the terrace’s white stone railings, gazing downward.
Looking through other windows showed views of the Temple of Twilight’s exterior, but from the terrace, one saw the Sunset Plaza. The angle was perfect, as if viewing from the Tower of Genesis’s very peak.
The Sunset Plaza had been decorated and transformed beyond Yu Feichen’s recognition. The dazzling, crystalline radiant ice stones had vanished, replaced by ancient, solemn, majestic megaliths. A broad staircase clustered with eternal sleep flowers extended from some unknowable distance, rising directly to the circular altar at the center’s height. Statues crowded the plaza, countless steps and platforms surrounding it, with millions standing there—not a single voice raised. All gazes fixed upon the central altar and staircase.
The sky no longer held its usual peace. Dark clouds blanketed it, pitch-black cracks between clouds upon clouds, and the distant horizon glowed blood-red as only sunset could. Winds from time immemorial howled across the plaza, like the world approaching destruction.
Yet up that broad staircase, a white figure ascended slowly, seeming the only light between heaven and earth.
It wore ceremonial robes, a white-gold crown, pale golden long hair adorned with silver tassels. Fierce winds howled and blew, yet couldn’t raise even a fold of Its robe.
Viewing from afar, one couldn’t precisely describe Its visage or bearing, nor draw conclusions about “divine love for humanity” or “merciful compassion.” Yet between the killing sky and earth, the ancient majesty pressed upon every corner of the world, leaving no doubt—this was the supreme deity, lord of countless worlds, whom all believers vowed to follow unto death, before whom all enemies trembled.
In the dim light, Its shadow was faint, stretched long and silent across the steps. No person or deity followed behind or beside It, as they should. Yu Feichen felt this was right.
Yet the deity walked alone up the ascending staircase, cradling only a broken knight’s helmet in Its embrace—its design ancient and mysterious.
Yu Feichen: “What is that?”
“An ancient ceremonial object,” Xiatei said. “It symbolizes the deity’s remembrance of all believers who died for It, and Its promise to restore them.”
Yu Feichen said nothing more. He simply watched the deity in the center, silently and intently, until It completed all the steps and reached the altar’s front.
Only then did Xiatei hear him ask another question: “Except for Resurrection Day, does It always sleep?”
“It remains always with us; only Its body rests,” Xiatei said.
The wailing wind suddenly intensified.
“Is it like this every Resurrection Day?”
“You refer to the weather?” Xiatei asked. Through the prior exchange, she’d confirmed this youth brought back by the supreme god was naive and inexperienced. Speaking softly, she explained: “On Resurrection Day, all enemies from the eternal night come near paradise, attempting to break through. So paradise and Landenworth are buffeted by fierce winds. Yet you need have no concerns.”
Her gaze held reverence and calm as she said: “The deity is undefeated.”
She suddenly saw Yu Feichen extend his hand toward the distant altar’s direction.
Wild winds swept his black hair and cape behind him.
Yu Feichen touched the wind coming from the altar. The deity’s figure also fell upon his fingertips.
On the sea, in Rubber Valley, in the temple, before the crystal coffin—he had felt himself close to It.
Yet as the primordial wind swept through paradise, he was always so far from It.