Chapter 3: Ode to the Whitewing
A dream.
At first, only a faint glimmer—a fragment, incomplete.
A great hand gave it the color white and urged it to grow. Slowly, the fragment took shape.
The great hand set it high in the sky. It drifted on a steady, gentle breeze…
Before the fragment had gone far, Nameless woke.
He got up, still dazed. The bedroom was quiet. The Flint Spirit was nowhere to be seen.
He had no idea how long he had slept. But if he had rested enough, he might as well get up.
He opened the door and went into the living room. The Flint Spirit appeared from who knew where, greeted him, and asked, “You’ve barely been asleep. Why are you up already?”
“I had a dream.”
The Flint Spirit didn’t press him. It only said gently, “But I don’t think you’ve rested enough. You should go back to sleep.”
“I’m not tired.”
“But you’re not in any shape to study right now.”
They both fell silent. After a long while, Nameless spoke, very softly. “Then… would you talk with me for a while?”
“Of course.”
He sat in a chair in the living room. The Flint Spirit hovered over the table in front of him.
“You said this is a space of consciousness. What about outside? What is the world out there like?”
“You’ll get to see it. In a little over ten days, your protection period will end, and you’ll take control of your Empty Shell yourself.”
“Is it as beautiful outside as it is here?”
The Flint Spirit thought for a moment. “I’ve never seen it either. But according to the Knowledge Base, the scenery outside is much like Restsoil, only… with more living things.”
“That’s wonderful! We can go out and see it together!” Nameless said, delighted.
The Flint Spirit’s light dimmed for an instant, as if it didn’t want to spoil his excitement. A little later, it said, “There isn’t much worth seeing out there. Besides… I can’t leave.”
“What?”
Nameless stared at the Flint Spirit in shock. It flickered softly before him.
“You can’t leave?”
“That’s right. My essence has taken root in Restsoil. My power and existence are bound to it.”
“Then what about me? Why can I go out? Does that mean… I have to go alone?”
He lowered his head. Had everything he had worked for been only to part with the Flint Spirit sooner?
The Flint Spirit weighed whether to explain. On second thought, it would be better to clear things up now. Otherwise, Nameless might lose the will to practice.
“…Actually, you can’t go out either. A Wandering Soul takes root and stops drifting, but it can no longer leave Restsoil. Seeing the outside world just means borrowing the Empty Shell’s senses and switching to a different point of view.”
After another long pause, Nameless raised his head and looked at the Flint Spirit.
“Really?”
“Of course. And wherever you look from, you’ll still be able to hear my voice.”
The smile returned to Nameless’s face.
“Good. Shall we start practicing, then?”
“Good. It’s about time.”
Another round of practice began. The task was the same as before: draw everything within sight. Nameless no longer wondered how this would help him see the outside world. If the Flint Spirit said it would help, then it would.
He drew willow leaves, stones in the stream, even the ring on the little house’s door. The Flint Spirit’s standards grew stricter. Static shapes were no longer enough.
The leaves he drew had to move with the breeze. But making condensed Red Qi sway in the wind without dissipating was no easy thing.
Nameless recalled how it felt to control Qi outside his body and tried again and again. After dozens of failures, the things he drew finally began to look more lifelike, and they stayed suspended in the air for longer and longer—from a few dozen seconds to a full quarter of an hour.
But slash attacks held far more appeal for Nameless than such delicate work. So the Flint Spirit took the opportunity to teach him two new kinds.
One was the heavy slash: gather a great deal of Qi at a single point and condense it into a massive blade for a direct assault. The other was the fine slash: use only a little Qi to form a thin blade for an unexpected strike.
Nameless took to them at once. He practiced over and over, exhausting his Red Qi again and again, then replenishing it again and again.
A week passed in the blink of an eye. At the end of training that day, the Flint Spirit suddenly said, “Let’s test what you can do.”
It opened a light screen and selected a leaf drifting down on the wind.
“Find it. Cut it in half with a fine slash.”
Nameless nodded. He held out his brush. A faint red glow gathered at its tip. With one sweep of his eyes, he picked out the leaf’s trail. He didn’t strike at once; he watched quietly as it fell.
The instant the leaf drifted into the spot he had anticipated, his wrist flicked. A red line flashed past. The leaf split cleanly down the middle, its two halves falling into the stream.
“Good,” the Flint Spirit said. “Next.”
It led Nameless to the water channel and opened the sluice again.
“Cut through the current with a heavy slash.”
Nameless drew a deep breath and gathered half the Qi inside him at the tip of his brush. A brilliant red light flared. He swung hard in the direction of the current. A crescent-shaped blade of Qi struck the water, forcing the rushing current apart for an instant before it flowed together again.
“Next, defense. Block one of my attacks with a shield.”
No warning. No time to react. The red clouds around the Flint Spirit abruptly took the shape of a blade of Qi and shot straight at Nameless. He reacted at once, forming a shield of Qi just in time to stop the blow.
At least he hadn’t been knocked back. That had to count as a pass. He put away his brush and looked at the Flint Spirit, thinking.
“I think I understand,” he said.
“What do you understand?”
“Drawing leaves with Red Qi and cutting them with a fine slash take the same kind of control: refining Qi into a steady, stable strand.” Nameless paused. “A heavy slash is different. All the Qi has to rush in one direction. Otherwise, it scatters before it can hit anything.”
The Flint Spirit praised him. “You caught on quickly. To draw a leaf that moves with the breeze, you have to keep its shape steady. To make a slash powerful enough to matter, you have to control the direction of its flow.”
“The first heavy slash you swung at me used even more Qi than you did just now, but it was nowhere near as powerful. If you’d had the control you have today back then, I might not have been able to stop it.”
The Flint Spirit’s red glow flickered faintly, as if remembering that moment.
“Your fundamentals are solid now. You can arrange the remaining three days however you like.”
Right. In only three more days, he would finally see the outside world.
Nameless spun once where he stood. His red-and-white robe rose with him. Then he suddenly remembered something, stopped, and turned to the Flint Spirit.
“Flint Spirit, I have one more question.”
“What is it?”
“I can float now, but I still don’t feel steady.” Nameless gestured, sweeping his arm upward. “It’s like something is holding me up, not like I’m really flying. You can move around so freely, but I can’t.”
The Flint Spirit’s red light flickered softly. It thought for a moment before answering. “You’re right. Floating is only the most basic state. Real flight takes finer control. But our training is finished. From here on, you can learn whatever you like.”
Nameless blinked. Then his eyes lit up.
“Then I want to learn to fly! Really fly!”
“I knew it.” There was a smile in the Flint Spirit’s voice. “Then let’s start with the robe you’re wearing. We’ll go up to the roof.”
Nameless did as he was told. Before he could climb up there, the Flint Spirit had already spread a layer of Red Qi over the roof to keep him from falling. Soon, Nameless was up there.
He took hold of the hem of his robe. The red-and-white fabric was soft to the touch. He tugged hard, but it didn’t budge.
It had been made from condensed Qi, but it was undeniably solid.
“Do you remember the first day?” The Flint Spirit floated beside him. “In the darkness, what made your robe flutter?”
Nameless closed his eyes and recalled the scene: a wind formed from Black Qi had blown past, and the robe had billowed with it.
“The wind… but there’s no wind here.” He opened his eyes. “I mean, I can control Red Qi to attack and defend now, but how do I make the robe itself move? I can’t just blow on it, can I?”
The Flint Spirit called up the Knowledge Base and, as expected, found the answer:
It quickly scanned the entry and couldn’t help grumbling to itself: Which joker wrote this flaw? “Might fall and die” counts as a flaw description?
But it showed nothing. Calmly, it explained to Nameless, “Of course not. This robe is called Wuping. It’s part of your power. It needs neither an outside force nor extra Qi to move. All you have to do is learn to control it.”
“How do I control it?”
“Just as you control your own arms,” the Flint Spirit said. “You only have to tell it what you want it to do.”
Nameless gave a wry smile. “Like the Qi clouds? Why does that feel so familiar…”
The Flint Spirit didn’t answer. Nameless fixed his eyes on the hem and silently thought, Spread.
The robe didn’t move at all.
“…That doesn’t seem to work.”
“That’s because you haven’t found the feeling yet.” The Flint Spirit thought for a moment. “Try controlling it by hand first. Move it with your hands. Feel its weight and how it moves. Once you’re used to it, try moving it without your hands.”
Nameless did as he was told. He gripped the hem and flicked it hard; the fabric fluttered in the air. Then he tried moving it slowly, making Wuping rise and fall like a wave.
While Nameless practiced, the Flint Spirit searched the Knowledge Base again, hoping to find the origins of the “divine red robe.” It found the entry in no time, but when it opened it, all that appeared on the screen was row after row of black lines and question marks. There was nothing useful at all.
Honestly, whoever wrote this Knowledge Base had a real sense of humor!
Nameless, meanwhile, began to feel the first stirrings of understanding. He sensed a faint, almost imperceptible pull, as if an invisible thread connected him to Wuping.
Was this thread his thought?
“That’s it,” the Flint Spirit said, noticing the change in him. “Now try letting go and using that feeling to control it.”
Nameless drew a deep breath and released the hem.
Wuping fell loose and swayed gently in the wind.
He stared at the hem, recalling that feeling of being pulled. Then he sent a command inward.
“Move!”
The hem twitched.
Only a little, but it had moved.
Nameless’s eyes lit up. He immediately tried to make it move with more force! The hem shot up, then twisted wildly out of control, nearly slapping him in the face.
“Don’t rush,” the Flint Spirit warned him. “Slowly. Start with one corner.”
Nameless knew he had gotten ahead of himself. He quickly slowed down and tried again. This time, he didn’t use too much force. He simply lifted the hem, let it fall, lifted it, let it fall…
Once, twice, and again. His movements grew smoother each time.
Soon, he could make one corner, half the robe, even the whole thing dance as he pleased. The red-and-white fabric unfurled in midair and moved with his thoughts.
“Good,” the Flint Spirit said, satisfied. “Now try flying with it.”
Nameless drew a deep breath and focused on the robe as a whole. He imagined Wuping becoming wings, imagined it lifting his body.
Wuping spread sharply to either side. Nameless rose from the ground with it.
But he only rose a little higher than he usually floated. Before he had time to celebrate, Wuping lost its balance and began to twist and flap wildly. The next second, he fell—only for the Flint Spirit’s Red Clouds to catch him.
“Don’t rush.” The Flint Spirit floated over to him. “Flying isn’t just about getting off the ground. You have to keep your balance, too. You put different amounts of force into each side just now, so you lost control.”
Nameless got back to his feet.
“Again.”
All afternoon, Nameless tried to master his balance. At first, he couldn’t keep steady at all. Then he managed to stay in the air for a few seconds, and eventually to control his direction, if only just. Every time he fell, he got up at once, adjusted his approach, and tried again.
The Flint Spirit hovered quietly beside him. It offered the occasional reminder, but most of the time it simply watched in silence. It watched Nameless go from clumsy flailing to coordinated movement, watched the red-and-white robe go from flapping wildly to finally holding steady, more or less.
More than ten hours later, Nameless finally came to a steady stop in the air.
He hovered three feet off the ground. Wuping spread behind him in the shape of wings, swaying gently with his will. His movements were still a little stiff, but this was no longer the simple floating he had done before. This was real flight.
“I did it!” Nameless cried, thrilled. But his excitement distracted him, and he lost his balance and fell again.
This time, the Flint Spirit didn’t catch him. He lay on the ground and laughed aloud.
“You haven’t really learned to fly until you’ve fallen!” The Flint Spirit flew over to him. “And you’ve only learned the most basic kind of flight. You’ll need a lot more practice before you can move as nimbly as I do.”
“I know.” Nameless got up and brushed himself off. “But now I have wings!”
He spread his arms. Wuping unfurled again, gleaming with a gentle light.
The Flint Spirit looked at him and said nothing for a moment.
“What is it?” Nameless landed and asked, puzzled.
“Nothing.” The Flint Spirit’s red light flickered softly. “It’s just that, with the way you look now, you really do seem to have wings.”
For the next two days, Nameless spent almost all of his time practicing flight.
He circled above the courtyard, trying to speed up, slow down, turn, and dive. Every movement required precise control; every part had to work in coordination. The slightest mistake and he would lose his balance.
But he improved quickly. By the third evening, he could move freely through the air. He still wasn’t as nimble as the Flint Spirit, but at least he no longer fell at the drop of a hat.
“Today is the last day,” the Flint Spirit said, floating over to Nameless as he rested. “Tomorrow morning, we’ll officially enter the world. Are you ready?”
“Ready.” Nameless nodded, his eyes shining with excitement. “I can’t wait to see what it’s like outside!”
“Good.” The Flint Spirit paused. “But before then, there’s something important we need to do.”
“What?”
“You’ll find out tomorrow.”
Soon enough, the final morning arrived. Nameless woke early, too excited to sleep. Today he would finally see the world outside!
He left his bedroom and found the Flint Spirit already waiting in the living room.
“Come with me,” it said. “Let’s go upstairs.”
Nameless followed it. He was already thinking that he might copy the Flint Spirit and fly straight in through a window!
The moment he stepped outside, he saw something red flickering on the second floor. Nameless leaped at once and slipped in through the open window.
This time, unlike the gentle light before, the glow on the second floor was dazzling. Red Qi, almost solid, surged along the intricate veins in the walls, flowing and gathering.
“What is this…”
“Quiet.” The Flint Spirit’s voice turned serious. “Listen carefully.”
Nameless held his breath.
In the silence, a calm voice rang out. Nameless recognized it at once: the same voice that had given him the white robe in the darkness and guided him to obtain Red Qi. This time, though, it sounded low and grave. It must have had something important to announce.
“You have both traveled the road of first beginnings. Now you are about to set out on a new journey.”
A huge light screen appeared from nowhere, suspended in midair. A line of red text slowly took shape on it:
【Your name is Nameless, yet all things have names; without a name, nothing exists.】
“Before you leave Restsoil and enter the world, you must choose names for yourselves.”
“What you see and hear now is real. But next, you must enter an illusion. If you can solve it, you will learn your names. Are you ready?”
“We’re ready,” the two of them answered.
As soon as the words were spoken, Red Qi surged up. The light screen suddenly widened, blocking their view. Nameless closed his eyes. When he opened them again, everything before him was white. His body felt as light as a willow catkin. The Flint Spirit hovered at his right shoulder, and Wuping carried him upward—flying out of Restsoil and into the cosmos.
Suddenly, a barrier appeared in front of them and blocked their way. Deep black ink on it had drawn two characters: 翱宇. Before Nameless had time to make sense of them, the characters moved.
The character 翱 trembled violently, then burst apart with a crash and became two characters: 皋羽. The character 宇 turned into silver light and formed a smooth, flat screen.
Within it stood a divine bird as tall as a person, facing Nameless directly. Its feathers were white and gold, marked with red. A vermilion orb floated quietly to its left.
Nameless blinked. Without thinking, he tilted his head. The divine bird in the mirror tilted its head, too. He raised his right hand; the bird spread its left wing.
“It’s moving with you,” the Flint Spirit said beside him. “That silver screen… it must be a mirror.”
“A mirror?” Nameless stared at the unfamiliar image. “But… is that me in there?”
“It looks completely different,” the Flint Spirit said, puzzled as well. “But it moves exactly as you do.”
Nameless blinked again. He almost wanted to laugh.
“So what kind of mirror is this? I’m not gold-colored. I’m not a white bird, either, and I don’t have feathers. It doesn’t look like me at all…”
The Flint Spirit was just as puzzled. “What are feathers for? What is white? The red-and-white wings are the most striking thing in the mirror.”
Nameless thought again about the characters on the barrier. 皋 meant high; perhaps it referred to flying. 羽 meant wings, which referred to flying, too.
The moment he understood, the illusion vanished. They were still standing in the second-floor living room, and the light screen had returned to its former shape.
New words appeared on it:
【If Bì’s line conceals the unadorned image, its splendor was there from the world’s first dawn.】
The verse lingered on the light screen for a moment, then slowly faded. Nameless stared at the wall for a long time without speaking.
“Once you solve the riddle of your names, you will receive the finest reward.”
With that, the voice faded away.
“Whitewing…” he murmured.
The Flint Spirit floated over to him. “The illusion showed… something that was and wasn’t you.”
Nameless looked up at the Flint Spirit.
“Flint Spirit, are we supposed to choose proper names for ourselves now?”
“Looks that way.” The Flint Spirit’s red light flickered once. “Have you decided what you want to be called?”
Nameless thought for a moment. His gaze passed through where the light screen had disappeared and came to rest on the now-blank wall.
“Whitewing,” he said. “I want to be called Whitewing.”
“Because of the illusion?”
“Not only because of the illusion.” Nameless—Whitewing—spread his arms. His robe unfurled into the shape of wings.
“But because of who I am, too. My power is Red and White. Wuping is Red and White… Then I’m the most dazzling wing there is, aren’t I?”
The Flint Spirit circled him once and finally stopped in front of him.
“That really does suit you. What about me? What should I be called? Since wings are made of feathers… what do you think of Feather?”
Whitewing tilted his head and thought about it.
“Just Feather? That doesn’t sound quite right.” Whitewing shook his head. “It can’t be just any feather. What about… Lofty Feather? You said there were red clouds outside… and then, from the white wings, pluck a single strand…”
The Flint Spirit—Lofty Feather—fell silent for a moment.
“Lofty Feather…” It repeated the name. “I like it.”
“Then it’s settled!” Whitewing said with a smile. “From today on, you’re Lofty Feather, and I’m Whitewing.”
“Mm.” Lofty Feather gave a faint tremor. “From today on.”
Two brand-new names echoed through that little space.
…
Whitewing leaned against the fence outside the little house, looking up at the sky over Restsoil.
“Nervous?” Lofty Feather floated over to him.
“A little,” Whitewing admitted. “But I’m more excited to see what it’s like out there.”
“Good.” Lofty Feather paused. “Remember, whatever you see, I’ll be right here. Whatever you see, I’ll see, too.”
“I know.” Whitewing held out his hand, and Lofty Feather settled into his palm. “We’ll see the world outside together.”
“Together.”
They stood there quietly, watching.
Today, they had been given their own names—Lofty Feather and Whitewing. Lofty Feather recorded everything that had happened: the grand illusion, their new names, and the smile Whitewing could barely contain.
Keeping a log was so much fun!
Suddenly, from somewhere, came a long, drawn-out sound—
“Diiing—”
It was unmistakably a man squeezing his voice into a high pitch!
Whitewing jumped in fright. Wuping burst open around him, and he nearly toppled over. Lofty Feather went on full alert, already gathering Red Qi to attack.
Who could possibly have breached the layers of defenses around Restsoil and spoken directly to them?!
They had no time to think it over. A wisp of Blue Qi drifted lazily from the stream in the distance, gathered into a ball, then gave a little wobble.
Lofty Feather immediately fired several heavy slashes at it! But the moment the slashes touched the ball of Qi, some force stretched and twisted them, then erased them completely.
The same flippant male voice spoke again:
“Ahem. Sound check, sound check. Good, you can hear me.”
It changed its tone and continued in a flat, emotionless voice:
“Congratulations on solving the riddle perfectly and picking up your new names. Time to keep the promise from this morning. Now handing out… Huh? You haven’t chosen names… Whatever. Let’s call it a beginner’s starter pack.”
“For Lofty Feather: a Rule Editor. Good stuff. You can use it to change rules, but only once a year.”
“For Whitewing: a trash bag. You decide what it does; its durability depends on its function. Recommended for use with the Rule Editor.”
“And finally, most of the Knowledge Base related to the outside world is now unlocked. Remember to read it.”
After reading those lines, it fell silent for a moment, then added one last thing:
“Work hard! I have high hopes for you two.”
The blue ball had finished its task. With a little poof, it dispersed, leaving Whitewing and Lofty Feather staring at each other in bewilderment.
“Just now…” Whitewing pointed to where the Blue Qi had vanished, looking dazed. “What was that?”
“…I don’t know.” Uncertainty filled Lofty Feather’s voice. “Speaking through Restsoil… maybe only a god can do that? But do gods really talk like that…”
A moment later, a shabby bag, patched all over with red, appeared out of nowhere and fell in front of them.
“What the heck is this?” Whitewing took a step back. “This is my reward?”
Lofty Feather stared at the tattered bag for several seconds. “What is it? It looks as if someone picked it up from a rubbish heap…”
“A trash bag…” Whitewing repeated the name. “It certainly lives up to it. Lofty Feather, what does this thing do? Any ideas?”
Lofty Feather’s red light flickered uncertainly. “Not yet… Oh, right. Where’s the Rule Editor? Where is it?”
The next instant, a flash of red shot straight into it. The male voice followed: “Rule Editor installed.”
“Huh?”
What was that now? Remembering that the voice had said the Knowledge Base was unlocked, it hurried to look for an explanation. But the result only left it speechless again! There wasn’t even an instruction manual!
It told Whitewing everything it had found.
After hearing it out, Whitewing took a deep breath and finally calmed down, too. “Forget it. This guy must just like messing with people! If he says they’re meant to be used together, maybe the stupid bag really does have something special about it.”
He picked up the bag. “We definitely can’t use it up now, anyway. We can only write a Rule if we both agree.”
Lofty Feather thought about it and found that he was right. What if the trash bag only looked ugly? When Whitewing put the bag away, Lofty Feather didn’t argue. It only gave a small, agreeing hum.
“Come with me,” Lofty Feather said. “I’ll teach you how to switch viewpoints. It’s time to get ready to enter the world.”
The two of them went back into the little house.
…
Outside, beneath the willow.
Red Qi that had been concealing the Empty Shell’s outline was slowly dissipating, but the child in the red-and-white robe still hadn’t woken up.
Two people stood nearby, watching him. One was blue all over; the other had dark hair and wore a simple red robe.
“You have no idea how fierce his Flint Spirit is!” the blue figure complained. “I got hit several times before I could even speak…”
“Serves you right. And it couldn’t hurt you anyway.”
“Ugh, fine. What can I do? He’s the new arrival you care about most…”
They said nothing more. A flash of red, and the next instant, they were gone.
The month-long protection period was over.
— End of Chapter —