Walker Of The Worlds

Chapter 2823: Observing The Lotuses And A Presence

They continued their walk around the valley, visiting each of the seven lakes.

At the Fifth Lake, a ring-shaped pond called the Circle of Origin, he saw lotuses with stems that coiled like spirals—said to represent the cycles of rebirth.

At the Sixth Lake, called the Mirror Pond, he saw reflections that shifted oddly, showing faint glimpses of places he had never visited—but which felt strangely familiar.

And finally, at the Seventh Lake, they arrived at a sealed area guarded by four monks with solemn faces. This lake had no name, and no visible blossoms. Its surface was opaque, black like ink.

”This one?” Lin Mu asked, curiously.

Hushuʼs voice dropped low. ”This is where the first Urim Violet Petal Lotus once bloomed. The original. The seed that birthed the entire valley.”

”Is it gone?”

”Not gone,” Hushu said. ”It has moved to another place.”

Lin Mu stared into the black waters.

He didnʼt feel fear or danger. He felt expectation.

As if the lake, and the lotus slumbering beneath, had seen him.

And were waiting.

Lin Mu stood at the edge of the seventh lake, the black stillness before him vast and silent. The surface didnʼt ripple. No breeze stirred it. The air here was heavier, not in oppression, but in sacred density—as if even the sky dared not intrude.

Monk Hushu watched quietly from behind, hands clasped within his sleeves. ”Let us not linger too long here,” he said softly. ”Even the Abbot treads lightly around this lake.”

Lin Mu nodded absently, but his gaze remained fixed on the water.

Something had shifted.

He didnʼt hear anything, didnʼt see it with his eyes, but somewhere in the marrow of his bones, he felt it. A presence. A gaze—older than the temple, older than the mountains, perhaps older than the very lands—was looking at him.

His heart beat once, and the sound echoed through him like a war drum in an empty canyon.

Then the lake… flickered.

Just once.

In the center of the lake, for the briefest of moments—so fleeting that it might have been a trick of the mist—a single lotus petal broke the surface.

It was not violet. It was not amethyst. It was not twilight-colored like the others.

It was green.

A pure, vibrant green that shimmered like jade bathed in moonlight.

And from that single petal came a presence so refined, so utterly transcendental, that Lin Mu felt as though he were a grain of sand standing before the sea. It did not press down on him—it did not need to. It merely existed, and in doing so, he was made aware of how small all other things were.

He could not see it, not truly. But in his mindʼs eye, through some unseen spiritual current, he sensed the faint outline of a lotus unlike any other.

Nine layers of petals.

Each layer a different hue of green, from emerald to deep forest jade to translucent mint. And within its heart pulsed not amethyst—but a shifting, liquid core of golden white. Like enlightenment made visible.

And it was looking at him.

Curious. Gentle. Patient.

There was no malice, no challenge, no test.

It simply observed him.

Lin Muʼs breath slowed as the world around him faded. There was no valley, no wind, no temple—only the quiet communion of presence. The lotus regarded him with an air of quiet consideration, as if it were pondering some eternal mystery only it knew.

Then, just as silently as it came, the feeling receded.

The green petal dissolved back beneath the black surface, and the seventh lake returned to stillness. The heaviness in the air lifted, and the valleyʼs sounds returned—the rustle of grass, the distant chimes, the soft call of golden birds overhead.

Lin Mu stood in stunned silence.

Monk Hushu approached slowly, sensing something had occurred. ”You… saw something?” he asked, voice cautious.

Lin Mu nodded. ”It looked at me.”

Hushu blinked, surprise flickering in his eyes. ”It?”

”A green lotus,” Lin Mu said. ”But not like the others. It felt... ancient. Alive. Kind.”

Monk Hushuʼs expression darkened slightly—not in anger, but reverence. He looked at the lake with new solemnity.

”There is no record of any living lotus within this lake,” he said slowly. ”Not anymore at least. Only stories passed down from the earliest scrolls. The Transcendent One—a lotus that bloomed before the first monks settled here. Before the temple even existed.”

”The Green Petal Urim Lotus,” Lin Mu recalled.

”Indeed.” Hushu smiled. ”Did it say anything?” he asked in wonder.

Lin Mu said. ”It… didnʼt speak. But it let me know.”

Monk Hushu gave a long, measured breath. ”The Transcendent Lotus… it is said to exist beyond karma, beyond the secular life, beyond even the Dharma. It is neither god nor beast. It simply is. No monk, no elder, no abbot for a long time—has seen it and lived to describe it.”

”Then why did it show itself to me?” Lin Mu asked, truly wondering.

Monk Hushu smiled faintly. ”Perhaps… it finds you pleasant.”

Those words stirred something in Lin Mu. A strange comfort. He looked once more at the black lake, but it was quiet again—utterly inert.

Whatever had watched him was gone.

But he knew it was not the end.

That presence—that lotus—had left behind a thread.

Not a bond, not a command, but a possibility.

And somewhere deep within, Lin Mu felt it now: a mark.

Something had been planted in him that day. And from that mark, he felt a calling. It came from somewhere within the Green Lotus Temple, but he couldnʼt exactly pinpoint where, as if its presence was being hidden by something.

Seeing Lin Muʼs state, Monk Hushu had a good guess of what was going through his mind.

”Looks like you might have the chance at meeting the Green Petal Urim Lotus.” Monk Hushu stated.

”I would?” Lin Mu asked. ”But where is it?”

”I donʼt know either. The Abbot doesnʼt either. But if it approved of you, it will eventually guide you to its abode.” Monk Hushu stated.