“Our family has been temple guardians for generations,” Xuanwu continued. “So we can’t commit suicide—it would disrespect the Bodhisattva and condemn us to the eighteenth layer of hell…”
Upon hearing this, Qiu Sixteen scratched her head and then placed her hands on her hips.
Now she had even more questions than before.
“Ninth Sister… did you hear that?” Qiu Sixteen murmured. “I’m a little confused…”
“I did hear it,” Bai Jiu replied uncertainly. “I don’t know much about this kind of identity… but if it’s true… you should help her.”
“Help her how…?”
“This is the only way,” Bai Jiu answered. “The lives of all our siblings are in her hands… If we can’t stop Xuanwu, and if Turtle and Eleven fall, Little Jiang Ten will follow them in death. Then it’ll be me and Seventh Brother—our defeat will be inevitable, and by then, any words will be useless.”
“Alright… alright…” Qiu Sixteen nodded grimly. “I understand, Ninth Sister. Leave it to me.”
Qiu Sixteen slipped the “door” into her pocket and turned back to face Little Xuanwu.
“Can you kill me now?” Little Xuanwu asked again.
“Xuanzi,” Qiu Sixteen called out. “You say you’re a ‘temple guardian,’ but where is the ‘temple’?”
Little Xuanwu paused, then spread her hands. “This is it.”
“Fine, this is the ‘temple.’ Then where is the ‘Bodhisattva’?” Qiu Sixteen pressed. “You say you’re a temple guardian, but there are no spirit tablets or deities here. What exactly are you guarding?”
“Sister…” Little Xuanwu slowly lowered her head. “When Mother was still alive, this place had some incense offerings. But then, three or four years in a row, there was first a great flood, then a severe drought, and finally an earthquake. The village suffered famine, and almost half the people died—my mother starved to death during the drought. Some said the Bodhisattva failed to protect us, while others blamed me for cursing them. Later, in their anger, they stormed up the mountain, smashed the Bodhisattva statue, tore down the shrine, melted the incense burner, and seized me.”
“They seized you…?”
“They believed everything was my fault,” Little Xuanwu continued. “If it wasn’t the Bodhisattva’s negligence, then it was my failure as a temple guardian. They beat me for a long time, but no one dared to kill me—they were afraid of being executed…”
“You…” Qiu Sixteen was momentarily at a loss for words.
“I could only beg for food in the village…” Little Xuanwu frowned, her expression filled with profound sorrow. “But they refused to give me anything. Maybe if I starved to death, they wouldn’t be executed…”
“You… actually tried begging for food in a mountain village…?” Qiu Sixteen shook her head. “Do you really believe the Bodhisattva was protecting this village?”
“The Bodhisattva sees everything. If He cares for all beings, how could He not protect them?” Little Xuanwu replied.
“Then how did He protect them?” Qiu Sixteen asked. “Floods, droughts, earthquakes—it all piled up. By any measure, it doesn’t seem like divine protection was present.”
Perhaps because of everything she had experienced in the “Land of the End,” Qiu Sixteen felt a deep aversion whenever she heard talk of “divinity.”
“Do you remember? No matter how lofty the Bodhisattva may appear, His eyes are always cast downward—He watches over all living beings,” Little Xuanwu answered. “If not for His protection, maybe even more people would have died.”
“But you’re still alive. Even if fate has treated you this way, do you still believe the Bodhisattva is protecting you?”
“Yes,” Little Xuanwu said. “Even if His face is covered in dust, it doesn’t stop Him from gazing humbly upon all beings. Though He resides in the heights, His eyes are always on the lowly.”
Qiu Sixteen sighed. “But He’s gone now.”
“I pray to Him day and night. He appears in my dreams,” Little Xuanwu continued. “He promised that in the future, I would never worry about food or clothing, that I would be free from illness and pain, and that I could walk openly in this world.”
“So the Bodhisattva wants you to die?” Qiu Sixteen cut to the heart of the matter. “Is your desire for death also the Bodhisattva’s will?”
She realized that the young Xuanwu before her seemed even more mature than the real Xuanwu, making her wonder what exactly had happened to Xuanwu.
“I don’t know. I can’t fathom the Bodhisattva’s intentions,” Little Xuanwu said. “But I know that if I’m killed, I won’t go to hell—because I’ve always guarded the Bodhisattva. Maybe after I die, I’ll reach the place He promised: where I’ll never worry about food or drink, where there’s no illness or pain, where I can walk openly in the world.”
Qiu Sixteen sighed. “Alright, I understand.”
“So… will you kill me?”
“I will,” Qiu Sixteen said. “Forgive me.”
“Thank you, sister.”
As soon as the words left her lips, Qiu Sixteen reached out and seized Little Xuanwu’s throat. This time, she felt no hesitation, only a steady increase in the strength of her grip.
She finally understood Xuanwu’s past—killing her was the only real way to save her.
But upon reflection, if Little Xuanwu died, she might enter the “Land of the End,” the place that truly promised her freedom from hunger, pain, and shame.
There, she wouldn’t need to eat, wouldn’t suffer injury, and wouldn’t even wear clothes.
What an ironic form of salvation.
“Xuanzi, I’m sorry,” Qiu Sixteen said. “The Bodhisattva has too many to protect. Maybe He just… overlooked you.”
Little Xuanwu’s face turned red, and she forced a faint, bitter smile. “It’s okay, sister… thank you…”
Qiu Sixteen watched as Little Xuanwu’s vitality faded bit by bit. Her face gradually turned purple, and her eyes, bloodshot from lack of oxygen, turned crimson.
Just as she was about to die, her eyes suddenly widened, her expression going completely blank.
Before Qiu Sixteen could react, Little Xuanwu’s slender hand clamped onto her arm.
Her grip was impossibly strong, as if the real Xuanwu had taken over.
A chilling sentence crept from Little Xuanwu’s lips:
“How audacious… not only to kill me… but to break my heart…”
…
“How audacious… not only to kill me… but to break my heart…”
Xuanwu roared and immediately seized Turtle’s massive arm.
Realizing the danger, Turtle struggled several times but couldn’t break free.
Then Xuanwu stepped forward, planted a foot against Turtle’s abdomen, and kicked hard—ripping one of Turtle’s arms clean off. Blood gushed from his shoulder like a fountain.
“Ugh!”
Though Turtle felt no pain, his body instantly grew cold.
“Eighth Brother!!” Luo Eleven and the others cried out, drawing Bai Jiu’s attention.
Bai Jiu looked over, but before she could assess Xuanwu’s situation, another scream came from Jiang Ten—this time from his left eye.
“AHHHHHH!!!”
She focused and saw that Jiang Ten’s left eye was now also drenched in scarlet blood.
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