Reversing Falsehood and Preserving Truth: All Gods and Gods Are in My Hands

"This extreme weather event was caused by the abnormal coupling of the subtropical high pressure and the polar cold air, coupled with the local airflow vortex effect, which caused the sudden release of moisture from the deep soil, resulting in this rare pale blue precipitation process. It is a typical 'atypical meteorological event'."

On the television screen, a so-called "meteorological expert," wearing gold-rimmed glasses, spoke eloquently about satellite cloud images. He cited numerous sources and used a bunch of obscure meteorological data to summarize the pale blue storm that swept through central China as "a once-in-a-century localized severe convective weather event."

The camera pans across the street, where the road surface is washed clean and shines. Citizens look at the camera with contentment and say, "This rain feels so good, it makes me feel so light and refreshed."

Lu Yu sat at his desk. The rain was still falling outside the window; it had been three days already. The pale blue raindrops were fine and dense, like a curtain, falling onto the windowsill and forming shallow puddles that shimmered with a faint light. The air was filled with a crisp and pure scent; taking a breath felt like cleansing one's lungs.

"Xiaoyu, come and have a bowl of soup!"

Lin Hui, the mother, walked in carrying a thermos, her voice filled with relief at surviving the disaster. "Luckily, you left school early that day and didn't witness the building collapse, otherwise my heart would have been broken."

She put the soup on the table and continued to ramble on, "This rain is amazing. I feel so light and refreshed while drinking the soup, and my mind is so sharp. I didn't make any mistakes when calculating the water and electricity bills."

Dad Lu Jianming, sitting in the living room reading the newspaper, chimed in, "That's right. The air on the street is fresh too; the smog that used to be so heavy at this time of year is completely gone."

Lu Yu didn't respond, but turned to look out the window.

According to internal calculations by the Bureau of Guardianship, the illusory energy in the Central Plains region has dropped to a historical low, and it is unlikely that there will be any large-scale illusory spirit uprisings in the next six months to a year.

My phone vibrated. It was a message from Shen Che: "Comrade Liu Jing's funeral will be held tomorrow morning at nine o'clock at the cemetery behind Shouzhen Bureau. All members are required to attend."

The few words weighed heavily on Lu Yu's chest. He opened the photo album and found the group photo from the sports meet—Teacher Liu stood on the far right, her moon-white skirt billowing in the wind, a gentle smile on her lips; Zhao Lei held up his gold medal, grinning as he put his arm around Lu Yu's shoulder, while Su Wan's ears turned red as she gently leaned against Lu Yu.

He developed four copies of this photo and carefully clipped them together in a hard-cover album, afraid of damaging them.

The rain finally stopped the next morning.

The cemetery behind Shouzhenju is built against the mountain. The bluestone path is wet, and the evergreen pines on both sides are covered with raindrops, like tears that have not yet dried.

The entire Shouzhen Bureau was dressed in black, standing in neat rows. From Shen Che and Senior Li in his wheelchair to the grassroots team members and then to Director Qin Mu who had rushed back, everyone had a solemn expression on their face.

There were no wreaths, no funeral music, only the mournful sound of the wind whistling through the pine branches.

Liu Jing's tombstone is simple, with the seven characters "Tomb of Liu Jing, the Guardian of Truth" engraved on the gray-white stone, and a line of smaller characters below:

"Use the soul as a torch to purify falsehood."

There is no biography, no deeds; her achievements, like that pale blue rain, nourished the entire city, yet only these people know of them.

Director Qin Mu stood at the front, his voice deep and solemn:

"Comrade Liu Jing, who has guarded Zhongzhou for half her life, has protected the safety of all people with her own body. The Bureau of Guarding Truth will never forget her, Zhongzhou City will never forget her, and China will never forget her."

After he finished speaking, he raised his hand in salute, and all the mourners bowed in unison, their movements perfectly synchronized, showing the utmost respect for the deceased.

Lu Yu stepped forward and gently placed the photo in front of the tombstone. The photo was wrapped in transparent plastic to prevent it from being damaged by moisture. He looked at the name on the tombstone, unable to utter a thousand words, only tears silently rolling down his cheeks, splashing onto the bluestone and spreading a small wet patch. In his heart, he murmured, "I will definitely be able to bring you back to life."

Zhao Lei stood to the side, this usually fearless boy now looking like a helpless child: "Teacher Liu, I've set up a training ground at home, complete with sandbags and a treadmill. I'll train like crazy to protect those you need to protect... Once Lu Yu finds a solution, we'll bring you back!"

After saying that, tears welled up in his eyes. He quickly wiped them away with his sleeve, but the more he wiped, the more tears fell.

Su Wan, wearing a plain-colored coat, held a painting in her hands and gently placed it next to the group photo. The painting depicted Teacher Liu standing in the light and shadow under the sycamore trees on the playground, her smile gentle. The sandalwood fragrance seemed to overflow from the painting, as she recalled it with her spiritual power.

She didn't speak, but squatted down, her fingertips gently brushing across the drawing paper, tears dripping silently onto the edge of the frame.

Chen Mo stood at the back, his hands in his pockets, the insightful vertical lines in his eyes dull and lifeless.

He was usually calm, but at this moment his shoulders trembled slightly and his Adam's apple bobbed. In the end, he simply bowed deeply to the tombstone, his movements precise and heavy, as if he were performing a solemn ceremony.

The funeral was short, yet exceptionally solemn. As Lu Yu left, he glanced back; the tombstone, nestled among evergreen pines, stood quiet and resolute, just as it had in Teacher Liu's lifetime.

Back home, I received a notice from the school: due to "damage to buildings caused by extreme weather", all students would be taking online classes from home for the remaining month or so before the winter break.

Back home, at his desk, Lu Yu placed a photo of himself with Liu Jing next to the monitor. The smile in the photo, even through the glass, remained warm. He opened the online course software. The teacher on the screen was explaining mathematical formulas, but he diverted some of his attention, his fingertips gathering pale golden power of reality and cyan-blue power of array formation.

The ability to simultaneously execute two techniques, which others cannot achieve even after a lifetime of effort, has never been a problem for Lu Yu.

At this moment, he was studying more ingenious ways to combine and use the light blade—for example, inscribing simple array patterns on the Void-Breaking Light Blade so that the light blade could retain the Void-Breaking properties while also triggering the effects of the array. But this was far more difficult than he had imagined. Several times, the energy went out of control, his palms were burned red, and the light blade shattered as soon as the array patterns were inscribed on it.

He remembered what Teacher Liu had said: "The cultivation of the Great Dao emphasizes gradual progress," and took a deep breath...

Lu Yu practiced for nearly a month until the ten thousandth time he guided the energy, allowing the true power to flow along the array patterns and then condense the light blade. This time, the array patterns on the light blade finally stabilized for a moment. Although they quickly dissipated, it gave him hope.

Sweat trickled down his forehead, dripping onto the exercise book and blurring the writing.

Turning to look at the group photo, Teacher Liu's smile seemed to say "Well done." He smiled wearily and raised his hand to wipe the sweat and tears from his face.

During this period, everyone has been quietly growing.

Zhao Lei stopped being so loud and boisterous all the time, and had his parents renovate an entire training ground for him in the basement of their house.

He runs dozens of kilometers every day, and even hired a high-paid boxing coach. He practices on the punching bag for at least four hours every night. The punching bag is dented from his punches, and his wrists are covered in plasters, but he never complains of pain. He said, "Teacher Liu is gone, so I have to become stronger. From now on, it's my turn to stand in front."

Besides taking online classes, Su Wan spends her time in the art studio practicing her art exam pieces. She paints still lifes and landscapes, and her spiritual powers imbue her paintings with a spiritual quality. Even her art teacher at the studio is amazed that "Su Wan's works are becoming more and more vibrant."

She hid her longing for Teacher Liu in every stroke of her brush.

Chen Mo was cramming on his knowledge of ethereal spirits while helping Lu Yu optimize the dual-path fusion plan.

He used his insight to help Lu Yu capture the subtle deviations in energy fluctuations, pointing out that "the flow of true energy needs to be slowed down at the third meridian node." He, who is usually a man of few words, was exceptionally patient in this matter, and his notebook was filled with notes.

In Lu Yu's desk drawer, there was a photo of the old house, which he took when he had some free time. The photo showed the old things left by his grandmother.

He stroked the photograph. The True Vision of Tracing the Origins taught by Nuwa could only be used once a year. He would wait until he had completely mastered the fusion of the two paths before going to the old house to investigate the truth behind his grandmother's disappearance...