Chapter 2: Chapter 2 : The Beginning of Myth
Chapter 2: The Beginning of Myth
This time, his sleep was longer than ever before.
He stood atop the peak of a high mountain, beside a lake.
He looked at the winds in the sky sweeping away broken clouds, and at the winds below sweeping across the grasslands where cattle and sheep grazed.
Inside the Divine Stone, he could not move at all.
“When will I finally wake up!”
That day.
At the foot of the mountain came a tribe driving their herds, migrating along the grasslands nourished by the river formed from melting snow.
Across the vast land, they saw that after the sun sank into a certain corner of the sky, something on the mountain began to shine, dazzling brightly against the dusk.
A little girl in a sheepskin coat, sitting atop the back of an ox, was the first to notice that sparkling thing competing with the sun’s brilliance. She let out a cry of surprise.
“What is that?”
“What is it that’s glowing?”
Along the river, winding like a silver ribbon, the tribespeople all turned their eyes toward that direction. One by one, they voiced their doubts, for none knew what exactly was glowing on the mountain.
Their leader, who was also the tribe’s shaman, performed divination and then spoke a single phrase.
“A great omen!”
If so, then it must be Heaven’s decree.
Thus, the entire tribe began to move toward the glowing place. Only then did they discover that the thing lay at the source of the river that had nurtured them.
They gazed into the distance, wanting to see what exactly rested upon that mountain.
Another dusk came. This time, everyone saw the light shining from the distant mountain, yet the first to cry out loudly was still the same little girl.
“Great Mother!”
“It’s glowing again.”
The Great Mother was both the chief and shaman of this clan. She too was staring at the glowing place.
She said: “Long ago, a great fireball fell from the sky. Perhaps something from the sun itself descended to earth. Could it be that glowing thing?”
At this, the tribespeople all cheered, pushing forward with even greater effort toward the shining place.
They crossed vast lands, passed through valleys and ravines, until at last—after who knows how long—they arrived before a great lake.
At that moment.
Everyone was dumbstruck.
The glowing thing was a massive piece of jade.
Such an enormous and translucent Divine Stone was already shocking enough, but what left them stupefied was that within the stone there was a “person.”
“The sun!”
“It really is the great sun that has fallen!”
All of them knelt before the Divine Stone. They seemed to already believe that the stone and the figure within it were beings who had descended from the heavens, from the very sun above.
And for such a being, they had a sacred name.
“Di!”
At this time, “Di” did not mean emperor as it did in later generations.
It meant god.
It also meant heaven.
And of course, it also referred to the sun.
At this ancient time, even the word “god” had not yet been born, let alone “immortal” or “Buddha.”
“Di” was the supreme existence.
The rest of the tribe had already been completely overwhelmed by the Divine Stone fallen from the sky and the figure inside it. They were utterly convinced this was the Di who had descended from Heaven and the Sun.
On the slope of the mountain, all others knelt down.
At that time, the Great Mother, who was both shaman and clan chief, was the only one who retained a shred of reason. Suspicious, she walked beneath the Divine Stone and asked the figure within the jade a direct question.
“Are you truly the Di?”
That miraculous jade was positioned high above, beside a lake formed from snowmelt.
When the Great Mother raised her head to look at the stone, she even felt as if she were questioning the heavens themselves.
Just then, the sun reached a special angle. Light poured into the Divine Stone from the sky, and because of its unique structure, the rays refracted in every direction.
The Great Mother shielded her eyes from the blinding brilliance, while the rest, upon witnessing this scene, became completely convinced of the identity of the stone and the figure within.
“Di!”
“Di…”
Voices rose in chorus.
At that moment, a bird—migrating from some unknown land—was drawn by the light. It circled in the sky for a long time.
When the brilliance gradually faded, it slowly descended onto the Divine Stone.
Then, something even stranger occurred.
The bird’s feathers began to elongate, changing from black to blue-green. A red streak appeared on its head, gradually extending downward like some special mark.
It spread its wings, radiating a luster like jade.
In an instant, an ordinary bird had transformed into this form, leaving everyone gaping in shock.
“Chirp!”
A sacred bird, jade-blue in color, soared through the sky.
As it flew beneath the heavens, it suddenly opened its beak and imitated the words spoken earlier.
“Di!”
“Di!”
“It is the Di!”
When those below heard this, they too followed in chanting the name of Di.
By now, everything seemed beyond doubt.
Even the Great Mother knelt with the others, bowing reverently to Di.
At that moment, the little girl behind her gazed at the tribe’s highest leader, Heaven’s spokesperson, showing such devotion. Her gem-like eyes gleamed as if she had discovered a new world.
She had always believed the Great Mother to be the most formidable, the strongest and wisest of all.
But now, this being called Di had appeared, making even the Great Mother bow before him.
She too knelt with everyone else, but her eyes secretly lingered on the Divine Stone high above, on that shadow said to have descended from the sun itself.
“That is the Di!”
---
Inside the Divine Stone.
Li Jun watched the outside world. He did not know what these people were shouting. The pronunciation of “Di” in this age was vastly different from that in later generations.
He too was shocked as he watched the bird undergo its transformation.
In mere moments, the bird’s very biological structure had been completely altered.
It could even mimic human speech. This meant that at the very least, its throat and tongue had been reshaped.
And all of this happened simply because it had come into contact with the Divine Stone.
Li Jun faintly sensed that the changes within the bird were not merely superficial.
In that instant.
He recalled what the Daoist Priest had once told him.
“As long as you find the Divine Stone, the Age of Myth can begin anew.”
As he looked at the bird, he suddenly understood. What he now saw might be exactly what the Daoist Priest had spoken of—the rebirth of the mythic age.
No, this was not a rebirth. This was truly the beginning of myth in the ancient and primeval wilderness.
This stone could cause life to undergo transformation, even to acquire powers beyond imagination.
Inside the stone.
Li Jun’s expression shifted slightly, his gaze fixed upon the bird.
The bird too seemed to sense his gaze. It turned its head to look back at him.
Li Jun thought to himself:
“If only I could see more clearly, if I could seize it—”
“Perhaps I could discover what changes have truly occurred within this bird, whether it really possesses those unfathomable powers of legend.”
As this thought arose, Li Jun’s eyes suddenly changed.
His pupils split in two. The two circles intertwined, merging into a unique shape.
Double Pupils.
This time, they revealed their true power.
“Chirp!”
Sensing danger, the bird cried out. But it was too late.
It and Li Jun locked eyes. Though it flapped its wings, trying to flee, its gaze seemed glued in place, unable to break away from Li Jun’s.
Gradually, the bird’s pupils too transformed into Double Pupils.
At that moment, Li Jun realized he could control the body of the jade-blue sacred bird—so long as it remained within his sight.
And then he discovered the bird’s true ability. Just as he had suspected, it did indeed possess those unimaginable powers of myth.
“It can foresee the calamities that will soon befall a person.”
A gift akin to avoiding misfortune and seeking fortune.
Li Jun was astonished.
What kind of unreasonable ability was this?
Unfortunately, it could foresee the disasters of others, but not its own.
It had not imagined that upon its very birth, it would be seized by Li Jun’s Double Pupils and from then on lose all freedom.
Moreover, Li Jun realized something deeper: since this bird could predict the disasters of others but not its own, then the one who controlled it would be able to foresee all disasters that might befall himself.
Thinking this, Li Jun felt the bird’s ability was all the more unreasonable.
Soon after, Li Jun released the bird.
His Double Pupils within his eyes returned to a single pupil, yet the bird’s Double Pupils did not revert.
It flew over the high mountain lake, sometimes descending to search for prey.
Sometimes it flew farther, weaving across the snowy mountains.
But in the end.
It always returned to the side of the Divine Stone by the mountain lake.
On the other side.
The clan known as the Ximu Clan began to set up camp at the mountain’s foot, and the discovery of the “Di” naturally became the most significant event for them.
The tribespeople were both joyful at having discovered the existence of Di, having found the Divine Stone fallen from the great sun and the shadow of Di within—
And at the same time awed by the existence of Di, not daring to speak freely or mention matters regarding him.
But in the end, all questions led to one point.
“Sacrifice!”
How should they sacrifice to Di? All eyes turned to the Great Mother.
As shaman, it was her duty to sacrifice to Heaven and Earth and to commune with Di—it was also her authority.
And the Great Mother decided: “We shall go and ask Di!”
This time, the Great Mother did not bring the entire tribe up the mountain, but only led the important members of the clan.
For the mountain was far too high. Each trip up and down consumed much time and brought great danger.
Yet when they overcame the peril and at last reached the lake upon the high mountain, gazing at the rippling waters and the Divine Stone glowing like jade beneath the sun—
They suddenly felt that no matter the cost, it had been worth it.
At this moment, the jade-blue sacred bird flew back from afar, circling above their heads.
At last, it landed upon a rock pressed beneath the Divine Stone, motionless as it stared at them.
Those strange Double Pupils fixed upon the bird made it seem all the more soul-piercing.
The people standing close to the Divine Stone were so terrified by the bird’s gaze that they immediately retreated in fright, fear and panic upon their faces.
“Great Mother, look!”
“Is this that sacred bird?”
“Blue feathers, and the red mark on its head—yes, it’s the very same bird.”
Everyone stared blankly at the familiar yet unfamiliar sacred bird. Just a few days ago, it had been no bigger than the span of a palm, but now with its long tail feathers, it was already over a meter in length.
“In only a few days, it has grown this much?”
“Look at it—it’s just like the Divine Stone itself.”
While the others spoke of the bird, the Great Mother turned her eyes toward the figure within the stone.
Under the sunlight, that figure’s outline became ever more blurred, yet in their hearts it only seemed taller and more majestic.
The Great Mother said: “This is all the power of Di.”
Her face was full of reverence. If at first she had harbored a trace of doubt, by now it had all transformed into firm belief.
The sacred bird spread its wings. The sun refracted its jade-like feathers into a shimmering azure, like the sky itself.
Its long legs circled once upon the ground, before it ascended into the heavens with an incomparably elegant flight.
Now, it bore not a trace of a common bird.
It resembled instead a being from legend.
A phoenix.
A jade-blue phoenix.
Everyone gazed at the bird soaring in the sky, at the way it merged with the heavens in beauty yet shone brilliantly against them.
All fell silent, as if through the bird’s transformation and wondrous form they felt the power and greatness of Di.
In this moment, Di was no longer an unfathomable sun, moon, or stars, nor an invisible wind.
The Ximu Clan built a stone altar by the high mountain lake. Above it stretched the sky, below lay endless layers of mountains fading into the distance.
And directly before it stood the Divine Stone “fallen from the great sun.”
The Great Mother donned strange robes and exquisite ornaments, and upon the altar she began to dance.
After each segment of the dance, she would ask Di how they ought to sacrifice.
“No!”
“There is no need!”
The Great Mother could not understand Li Jun’s words, nor could Li Jun understand the words of this ancient shaman.
But eyes could see, and actions too could convey will.
Through the behavior of the Xi Mother tribespeople, Li Jun could discern their intentions.
By controlling the sacred bird, he shook its head and let it cry out. Thus, the Great Mother came to understand the will of “Di.”
Yet sacrifice among the Ximu Clan was inevitable. In the end, the Great Mother chose the most primitive and ancient of rites.
Burning wood in sacrifice to Heaven.
And Heaven was Di—now recognized by the Ximu Clan as embodied in the fallen Divine Stone.
At last, the clan left in joy.
“Great Mother, Di truly responded to us.”
“We have sacrificed to Di, Heaven and Earth will protect us.”
“Our tribe will surely prosper.”
“This year, more children will be born.”
“Our herds will increase.”
But as Li Jun gazed at the departing Great Mother and her tribespeople, at the figures of those ancient ancestors from ten thousand years ago, his expression grew incomparably complex.
For just now, he had for the first time exchanged with the people of this age.
And this—
Undeniably tore apart the last shred of hope in his heart.
“This is not some ancient projection—this is real.”
He was not watching some shadow of antiquity like a spectator outside a screen.
Through his actions, he could intervene in the lives of people from ten thousand years ago.
He had already fallen into this scene.
---
The fastest way to learn and master a language was undoubtedly to immerse oneself among those who used it.
The Great Mother often came under the pretext of sacrifice to commune with “Di.” As time passed, “Di” gradually learned to respond in their tongue.
For Li Jun, this was a primitive and simple language, a language without writing, only speech.
Most of the time, the questions they asked were simple.
“Di, the weather is turning cold—will it grow colder?”
“Di, why is it raining today?”
“Di, why did it not rain today?”
“Will it rain tomorrow?”
At other times, they merely reported what happened in the tribe, while Li Jun listened in silence.
When at last he had nearly mastered their language, the Great Mother came to the stone altar one day and reported:
“Di, we are preparing to leave this place.”
The Ximu Clan were nomads. With the changing of the seasons, they had to migrate in order to survive.
Now, they were to depart.
At that moment.
Li Jun, encased within the Divine Stone, had the sacred bird waiting beside him.
As soon as the Great Mother spoke of their departure, the bird—now like a phoenix—shone with light in its eyes, revealing glimpses of what was to come.
It was the sight of the Ximu Clan migrating.
Li Jun saw them passing before a mountain valley. Believing it a suitable place to camp, the clan settled there.
But then, black clouds spread across the sky.
Thunderbolts raged down from above, illuminating the pale, fear-stricken faces of the tribespeople, even their shadows on the ground trembling with fear.
And that was only the beginning.
Suddenly, blizzards and bitter cold descended.
After the storm of snow and bone-chilling winds, the valley was left covered with corpses. The entire tribe froze to death in that calamity, not a single survivor left.
A miserable sight.
In the face of such natural disaster, mankind was incomparably fragile.
This was the first time the bird’s power had manifested, proving beyond doubt that it was truly a sacred bird.
The gaze of “Di” slowly lowered, from the Divine Stone high above to the Great Mother kneeling at the altar below. Though sacrifice had been their own choice, still—after all this time with them—he could not remain unmoved.
“Di” blinked once. When his eyes reopened, his pupils had become Double Pupils.
The bird moved, stepping forward and descending from the stone altar.
Facing the kneeling Great Mother, it spoke:
“When passing the mountain valley, do not remain.”
“If you linger, Heaven shall send calamity, and the whole tribe will perish!”
The bird spoke in halting words, conveying the will of “Di.”
The Great Mother, stunned, suddenly raised her head.
“Ah?”
But the jade-blue bird spoke no further.
Recalling its words, she finally understood their meaning. Her face turned pale, and her shoulders trembled.
She prayed to Di for more, but Di gave no response—or perhaps, at that moment, there was nothing more he could do.
Yet that silence fell upon her eyes like divine majesty.
She seemed to see Di merged with the very heavens, gazing down from on high—watching all beings upon the earth.
The Great Mother hastily returned to the tribe. Once she passed on Di’s will, the rest were even more terrified and agitated than she.
“Calamity!”
The mere word was already the most feared of all things, a word none dared utter in daily life.
And behind it came the fate decreed by the disaster.
“The whole tribe will perish!”
What ending could be more dreadful?
Those few short words sent many collapsing weakly to the ground in terror.