This new discovery swiftly draws Bessmert's attention away from the broken bridge.
Bessmert: Mm? What is that supposed to mean?
Getian: Judging from the fact that you have unreadable bones, you're certainly neither a Yāo, nor a human. A grumkin? No.
Bessmert: Oh, I'm also an arcanist.
Getian: My instinct told me that I should flee to the end of the world the moment I saw you.
Bessmert: You did run away, along with my poor teammates, who were turned into Lùshǔs.
Getian: ...
Getian: I could not have imagined being around someone with unreadable bones.
Getian: Turns out it wasn't as strange as I thought it would be.
Bessmert: Not much difference, you mean? Like the people here believe that there's no difference between humans and arcanists, which makes me very surprised.
Getian: Based on the bones I've seen, they are different. It's just that ...
Bessmert: Doesn't make a difference, right?
Bessmert: We are the same when we desire something.
Bessmert turns her face toward where the people are moving.
She holds her face as if firmly staring at something, despite her lack of sight.
Bessmert: I wasn't questioning you or the temple when I asked you about flying to the other side.
Bessmert: I wasn't even questioning the strange condition of this arcane skill.
Getian: What do you mean?
Bessmert: I was ... running out of options, I guess.
Bessmert: It was just some futile effort I made when I realized this was a dead end, but I have no idea how it got to this point.
Bessmert makes her decision. She lifts the oiled umbrella and sticks it between the branches above her head. Walking out from beneath its cover, heading toward the people carving sticks in the rain.
Yenisei does not stop either. She follows behind Bessmert—just as she has been doing since their departure.
Getian: Where are you going?
Bessmert: I have questions to ask.
Getian: Even if there're no answers?
Bessmert: Yes. I think ... it is the same for all these people.
Bessmert: They keep asking, even though they hear no answers.
Bessmert walks forward, almost reaching the broken bridge, until Yenisei grabs her sleeve.
Bessmert: It's okay. I know what you're going to say.
Yenisei reveals her image in the rain. The surface of the water is lightly pattered by raindrops, and her face is rippled by their falling.
Fortunately, her heart is no longer swaying like her reflection.
Yenisei: How are you going to do it? We don't have any wooden chips like that.
Bessmert: I will use my finger, mud, and water, on the ground.
Bessmert: You can ask, too, whatever means you use.
Yenisei: What I want to know ...
Bessmert crouches down and pokes her index finger into the soft mud, writing a few Cyrillic letters. Then, others, and then still more.
By the time she finishes writing the entire question, the first letters have already been eaten by the heavy rain, like seawater washing away etchings on a beach.
Bessmert: Child, what's your question? Say it if you like.
Yenisei: I think I will write it down.
Yenisei doesn't believe that doing so will have any purpose. But she cannot refuse Bessmert.
As she gazes at her face in the pool of water, she once again activates her arcane skill and asks the question that has been waiting in her heart.
The red-haired girl suddenly disappears from the pool of water in front of her. Instead, a line of Cyrillic letters composed of warm-colored dots appears on the clear water's surface.
The girl looks at the water and realizes that the line of words doesn't even need to be fully legible.
Rain pounds and waves rise. The water trembles with her question.
"Where is my water?"
The sudden emergence of more animal footsteps prevents Yenisei from becoming lost in deeper thought.
The red-haired girl reappears in the water, her tone as unsparing as usual.
Yenisei: Are they still going to carry out the Fortune Walk?
Yenisei turns around.
These animals, neither Lùshǔs nor striped horses, have left the city's unattended Zhící and coincidentally arrived here.
They are stood there naked and tired, unadorned in any festive decorations.
The ribbons and flowers Yenisei had seen on that first day in the bustling market have disappeared. Not suitable for the present situation, after all.
Yenisei: ...
Yenisei: They are ... carrying wooden chips in their mouths ...
Bessmert: They're all here, right?
Yenisei: Yes.
Yenisei: With the wooden chips. They are here for The Divination.
Yenisei: But the chips are empty.
Bessmert: They will have to ask in their minds.
Yenisei: What would you like me to do?
Bessmert: ...
Bessmert: You can ...
Bessmert: You can be their mouths, hands, and eyes.
Bessmert: You can also do nothing.
Bessmert: Just like the good sir waiting behind us.
Gětiān remains in the tree and thus sees everything.
His wings have become damp and heavy from the rain, and the cloth on his head is soaked, pressing down heavily as if dragging him back down to the ground, back into the mud, back to the place where the world began.
He doesn't move, silently taking stock of everything that happened under that tree.
Yenisei: I see. If they are here for The Divination ...
Yenisei: I will help.
There are many puddles on the uneven ground. After a brief flicker of light, faces begin to appear in the water.
They fade again one by one, forming in long or short sentences. Though Yenisei cannot understand them. This is all she can do.
She continues to look for a while, then forces herself to turn around and search for Bessmert.
Yenisei: Madam, after we go back ...
Bessmert smiles, shakes her head gently, and halts the girl's words.
Bessmert turns around, seeming to be facing Gětiān's direction, back to the city gates from which everyone came.
She can sense a steady stream of energy flowing toward some destination.
Bessmert: You're wrong. "It" can hear us.
Gětiān is in the tree, shaking off his wings like a swallow—shaking off the reasons for making him feel so excessively damp.
He knows that Bessmert must not be talking to him, as the blind arcanist continues to work in vain.
But then he is wrong yet again.
Getian: Who is ... that?
The sound everyone present can hear becomes louder and louder against the breaking silence, accompanied now by nothing but the patter of the rain, to the point where they all turn back in response—
All they see is a red dress swiftly passing over them all.
It is Jiǔ Niángzǐ.
Both those familiar and unfamiliar with her quickly realize her identity, despite the change.
Why did she do it? Did she really jump over the broken bridge? What could possibly have happened to her after doing so?
A myriad of questions hovers in the minds of the confounded witnesses.
Yenisei: ...!
Bessmert: It was her. The noise I heard ... It was Jiǔ Niángzǐ, right?
Bessmert: It was an unusual disturbance when she jumped over the bridge.
Citizen I: That-that was Jiǔ Niángzǐ?
Citizen I: Mr. Liǔ, did you see that??
Citizen III: Yes! That's her, that's really her. High heaven, she did it, she jumped over!
In shock, someone hurriedly pokes their head toward the opposite bank of the broken bridge, but stops and withdraws at the cliff's edge.
They are seeking a definite answer, but fear the steepness and height of the cliff. Naturally, they never imagined someone might cross it—
Citizen I: This ... That ...
Yenisei: That's right. It's Jiǔ Niángzǐ ... I saw her turn into a Lùshǔ ... Madam, she turned into a real Lùshǔ!
Citizen I: sobs The people are back, and the river ...
Citizen V: The river! Ah, the Pèilín River is rising!
Beneath the cliff no longer lies a canyon or a low river, but a constantly rising torrent.
Citizen V: Wait, I can talk! My body is ... What's happening?!
The people finally react.
They look at each other excitedly, a red light illuminating their faces like the dazzling courtyard fires beneath the festival walkways—or the strip of light that appeared on the river before.
Their divine wishes have been granted.
Yenisei: Wait. I ...
Yenisei: My body is back?
Yenisei almost leaps into the air to embrace Bessmert.
Yenisei: Jiǔ Niángzǐ ... She jumped over the bridge! She jumped over ... in the human form!
Yenisei: She didn't fall! I'm not sure if I saw it clearly ... I think, for an instant, she turned into a real Lùshǔ.
Yenisei: Is this the power of The Divination, the magic of "Ask and Acquire"?
Yenisei: Oh, wait! The people in the city have come back, so maybe ...
A voice now long unheard also sounds from beside them.
Krolik: What ... the?
Krolik: Ugh, what's going on? Ah! My head hurts ...
Yenisei: Mr. Krolik!
In the crowd, all the companions they once had lost are now returned to them.
Jurien: Oh, dear ... I had the strangest dream ...
Yenisei: And Mr. Jurien, everyone!
Yenisei: They are over there! Madam, let's go see them!
Without waiting for an answer, Yenisei waves from a distance and immediately runs toward them.
Yenisei: Here! We are here ...
Bessmert: Bǎizǎi Nánféng Suìzhāochūn.
Bessmert: It's indeed a rare occasion.
