Bai Mu climbed down the mountain slowly, keeping the broken guqin close to his chest, like a mother hugging her child to sleep. That guqin was a gift from his master, Bai Senmei. The memories of him were now shattered, just like that instrument. 

Bai Mu was not sure he could repair it. Bai Mu was not sure if he could remember it all. 

The young musician shielded his eyes from the sunlight rising over his head, his fingers casted thin lines of shadows over his face. It was morning and the birds sang. It was only last night when his life took a turn.

Under the midnight moon he talked to his Shizun Bai Senmei, the next he disappeared and the darkness emerged.

“I wished you were not here to see this…”

Bai Senmei had said that to Bai Mu last night. The disciple didn’t understand what the master meant. Perhaps it was as that demon had said, he was too young to understand. 

Even so, he wished to have someone to explain things to him. Bai Mu looked at the clear blue sky and exhaled. It was the pale blue that he saw every day and yet the color brought tints of hopelessness. 

When that same sky was dark azure, he inadvertently said goodbye to his Shizun. He didn’t make much of the events, but slowly, as each step climbed down the stone stairs, he remembered what he needed to remember. 

Last night Bai Mu couldn’t sleep.

The moon was shining over the dark mantle but there were no stars, and a few clouds veiled the round silver as the wind blew. The snow kissed mountains showed little to no color, amidst the patches of white, some grass peeked through. Sometimes the breeze shaked the tree branches, shedding more snow into the pathways leading into the temple of the thousand bells. The home of the Qian Bai Ling sect. 

The bells sang slowly, the melody like the song of dormant crickets. 

Few other sounds joined in the night. A few birds chirping, perhaps some arctic foxes hunting, the creak of steps over the stone as disciples took their watch around the temple. 

A long stone stairwell circled the mountain like a snake coiling. The trail ended in the rounded gates of the Qian Bai Ling sect, carved with a wood so light it gleamed in the night. From that height, a caldera was visible. The waters were frozen and the crater so big, it resembled more of a sea than a lake.

The frozen sea. 

The blue surface shone in silver and teal as it reflected the moonlight. There was always something illuminating the mountain, even if there were no lanterns. 

There was no real darkness in the temple of the thousand bells.

No darkness, no doubts. Everything carried on impeccably through the night, like the wind beneath the wings of a sparrow. Each of the people inside the temple glided through their tasks, one after the other, through morning and night. 

However,Bai Mu did not follow that rhythm, he could not find peace. Bai Mu turned over from his bed, grunted, and massaged his temples in the end, trying to ease some of the tension. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t sleep. 

From his bed, tucking inside the covers, feeling the woven threads beneath his fingers, he brushed the fabric as if it were an instrument. Bai Mu's fingers were long and silky, like the tip of a brush painting over a canvas. His mind was restless with a song, how could Bai Mu go to the world of dreams if his mind was already there? 

Bai Mu wanted to play music but the time was not right. It was time to sleep; Rules were very strict in Qian Bailing. 

Despite living in that temple from a tender age, Bai Mu found many of the rules arbitrary and annoying. One of the old masters was not so thrilled about his musical talents and scolded him on a daily basis. Bai Mu considered him an ignorant fool, stuck up in a frigid world. Luckily his Shizun, Bai Senmei was not like this. His master understood him, as the two of them never quite fitted in that place. 

Just one person to listen was alright. Bai Mu would not share his song with those who could not appreciate it or understand it. 

Since he couldn’t sleep, Bai Mu tiptoed out of the bed, still carrying the blanket over his shoulders and dragging it on the floor. He would visit his Shizun’s pavilion in the far west. 

Perhaps his Shizun would share more stories with him. He had a rich life, full of adventures and encounters. He even worked with other cultivation sects, like the shadow palace. Bai Mu was thrilled to listen, for his Shizun was quite a mysterious person and every little fact about him was valuable like a jade pearl.  

Bai Senmei was a man that had seen the world, and those tales were inspirations for more poems and melodies for the young Bai Mu.

Bai Mu peeked his head out the door, checking if other members of the sect were not nearby. He kept the blanket tightly against his head to conceal his silver head. At night, the strands of hair captured all the remaining light, leaving a pale glow. 

No one else in Qian Bai Ling Sect looked like this, no one except Bai Senmei and Bai Mu. That’s why he gave him his last name, so they would be less alone. Bai Mu loved having that connection with his Shizun. 

Bai Mu tiptoed through the inner courtyard. He successfully managed to slither towards the pavilion of the Moonlight song, the only place in Qian Bailing where Bai Mu was allowed to play his guqin. 

He opened the door only to encounter long shadows casted over the clean desk, the room divider, and the lone shelf. The room was empty. Bai Mu ventured further nonetheless, thinking perhaps his teacher was so tightly tucked in the blankets he was hidden from plain sight. His fingers patted the bed and pillow in the darkness. The feeling was cold; his Shizun had not been in bed all night. 

Could he be meditating? Bai Mu felt he would have known if that was the case. An uncomfortable feeling sunk in his chest as his silver eyes drifted through the room, looking aimlessly for a clue of the whereabouts of Bai Senmei. 

The thought of his Shizun hiding things made him uncomfortable. Their differences in age and rank were never a reason for secrecy. 

Finally, Bai Mu’s gaze stopped by the window, it was not fully closed. From the creak, he saw the silver pathway towards the sacred tombs of the frozen sea and over there, a thin white line that rose to the heavens. 

Was it a pyre? 

The young man let go of his blanket and opened the window. The wind blew over his pale cheeks, coloring them rosy with the prickly icy breeze. He rubbed his arms and stepped outside through the round frame. 

No disciples guarded that area. Even if they did, Bai Mu had already found an excuse, he was checking if there was a forest fire in the distance. No harm done. 

He did not fear demons wandering through the night. Qian Bailing and the frozen sea were sacred places. There had not been a single demon, spirit, or Yaoguai that stepped into that mountain range. If that wasn’t enough, the cold weather would be too much to bear, for Hell and the demon realm was hot, so Bai Mu thought. 

Bai Mu rubbed his arms as he approached the lake. A ringing sound grew and grew with each step. The bells encircling the shore danced with the strong wind, their tune was supposed to ward off evil spirits but Bai Mu found the dissonance very ominous. 

A person was burning something by the shoreline, next to a tombstone. The voice chanted a low prayer, though it was muffled by all the noise.  

Bai Mu widened his eyes, a little shocked by the sight. Was that his Shizun, Bai Senmei? 

Bai Mu took a step forward. Despite the many sounds, the rattle of bells, the wind howling, and the chanting, the man heard Bai Mu’s steps over the thin layer of snow and mud. 

Bai Senmei turned sharply and faced his disciple. His loose long hair hid his lips, his expression was unreadable for Bai Mu. 

“Shizun, what are you doing?” Bai Mu frowned.

Bai Senmei closed his eyes, “I wished you were not here to see this…”

“See what?” Bai Mu frowned, he was short of breath and his heartbeats rose. The flames of the fire behind his Shizun were not crimson, but colorless. The logs were so black they looked like shards of the night sky.

The wind stopped for a second and Bai Mu could finally see his Shizun’s face. He looked hurt but determined. “Mu-er, there are many things in this world you will not understand. I wished not to expose you to that but…” 

What things? 

Bai Senmei held his breath and turned his view towards the frozen sea instead. The profile was of a handsome man, the tip of his nose perfectly round and his eyes were framed by a red line, exalting the peach like shape. 

“But?” Bai Mu blinked, thinking of approaching further. 

Bai Senmei raised one hand, halting Bai Mu's steps. “This is inevitable, after all.” He looked at the moonlight above, as the clouds slowly stole all the light away. 

“I am sorry.” 

The fire went off and everything was black. 

Bai Mu had a good hearing, so the sudden darkness was not much of a problem. He relied on his ears as his eyes adapted. Sadly, He could not hear any other soul nearby. 

Instead, Bai Mu heard a strong rupture and the wind howled like a wounded animal. The strings that tied the thousands of bells snapped with that gale and finally, the metallic dissonance ceased. What followed were more bangs, the ice was cracking slowly at first then rapidly. The ground beneath his feet trembled. 

From the creaks, liquid started to ooze to the surface. It reached his ankles and was freezing to the touch. Bai Mu was paralyzed, realizing that it was not water, but a dense gelatin. 

He felt fingers grabbing on his skin. Finally his eyes could discern silhouettes in the shadows. What surrounded him was a viscose mass with remnants of limbs trying to break its surface. It was as if bodies were melted and put together.

Bai Mu's body arched, fighting the urge to vomit. He kicked those fingers away and took clumsy steps backward. He did not want to stay and understand what sort of creature was sealed beneath the frozen sea. 

Bai Mu sprinted back into the sect building. 

He did not mind being seen, instead of stopping before the warnings and shouts of other disciples, he rushed towards one corner of the courtyard. A small tower with an alarm bell was at its top and he rang it frantically. 

He rang it once, twice, thrice until his fingers were sore. The sounds muffled the slam of the main doors opened abruptly. The wood was pushed away and it crushed one of the disciples. A freezing gale joined the putrid waters that thrusted into the building. 

The few lanterns extinguished their light like the last sigh of a dying man. 

Those who were shouting at Bai Mu for his insolence, quickly turned their attention to the horrors. What poured from the frozen sea was akin to tar, though Bai Mu assumed it was slow, that fluid quickly caught up to his steps. 

Disciples guarding the temple readied their talismans but the paper sank in the shadows. They ran the small bells on their staffs, but that only aroused the anger of that creature, which twisted rapidly at the sounds. In a sudden sweep, two more disciples were buried on its body. 

The waters were slow, then  fast like a tiger pouncing on a prey. They swallowed whole those who were not quick on his feet. 

At that sight, still feeling the lingering cold on his ankle, Bai Mu’s head was possessed by the thought that his home was about to be destroyed. The words, ‘this was inevitable’ coming from his Shizun echoed next to the fear.  

He had to run away; there was no hope. However instead of running towards the side exits he headed to his room instead. The world could be damned; Bai Mu had to save his white flower guqin.