Yet, legend told of a time when the heavens themselves were torn asunder by conflict. A great betrayal plunged the world into war, and the very fabric of existence was ravaged by fire and chaos. In the midst of the destruction, the Twin Moon Sisters faced each other in battle, their clash shaking the heavens. Despite their efforts, both perished, and their spirits were sealed within the very moons they once governed. The Azure Moon, scarred by her fate, carried the mark of their lost unity, while the Crimson Moon, forever stained red, stood as a symbol of their tragic end.
The festival was a time of remembrance and renewal, where the people honored the moons’ blessings and sought to harmonize strength and wisdom within themselves. Lanterns in shades of blue and red filled every village and city, their glow representing the sisters’ spirits, while offerings were made to appease their lingering presence and ensure peace for another year.
On the eve of the festival, when the sun had dipped below the horizon and the air had grown crisp, everyone in the orphanage gathered in the courtyard. A large bronze container stood empty at the center, its metal reflecting the flickering torchlight. It was time for the preparation of the first ritual of the festival—one that would purify the past and usher in the moon's blessings for the days to come.
Wuji stood beside Mei, both of them engaged in quiet conversation about the upcoming celebration.
“What are you most excited about tomorrow, Brother Wuji?” Mei asked, her tone light.
Wuji paused, considering. “Hmm... for everything, I suppose.”
Mei groaned in mock exasperation, swaying on her feet with her hands clasped together. “Brother Wuji, you’re no fun!”
He raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
She grinned, her face lighting up. “I’m most excited for the ritual dance performance!”
Wuji smirked. “That’s because you’re in it.”
Mei pouted, but her expression softened as she giggled. “Maybe. But still! The dance is beautiful—it tells the story of the Twin Moon Sisters. We wear blue and red robes to represent them.” She twirled on her toes, mimicking the graceful movements of the ritual dance before laughing.
Wuji chuckled, his gaze drifting to the bronze container before settling on the twin moons overhead, gleaming with an otherworldly glow.
In his past life, Wuji had been a scientist, a man devoted to logic and reason. Yet, despite his scientific pursuits, he had always honored his cultural traditions—not out of superstition, but because they were part of his identity, the invisible threads that connected him to his ancestors. In a way, they grounded him.
Now, in this life, his roots had changed. The Celestial Harmony Village had become his home, and its customs, passed down through generations, were now as much a part of him as they were of the villagers. To honor them wasn’t just about upholding tradition; it was about belonging.
The ritual was simple but deeply meaningful. Each person was to pour water into the container, symbolizing their participation in the blessings of the festival.
Qin Jingwen, as the eldest, went first. She lifted a wooden bucket and gently poured its contents into the empty vessel. One by one, the caretakers followed, their movements respectful and deliberate.
Then came the children, each taking their turn. Wuji was second to last. He lifted his bucket, the cool water sloshing inside, and poured it carefully into the growing pool. Mei, the youngest, was last. She tiptoed to reach the rim, her small hands shaking slightly as she added her share.
Once all the water had been poured, the group gathered in a semi-circle around the container. With quiet reverence, they bowed to the twin moons above, then to the vessel, before chanting an ancient mantra in Yulian:
"Under the Azure’s gentle gaze, we seek wisdom and peace.
Under the Crimson’s watchful light, we find strength and resolve.
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May the moons cleanse our hearts, and may their light guide our souls."
Their voices, soft yet harmonious, echoed in the stillness of the night. When the chant ended, a calm silence descended upon the courtyard.
The large container, now filled, was left to absorb the moons' blessings overnight. At dawn, they would wash their faces with the Moon-Blessed Water, cleansing away misfortune and welcoming a new cycle of prosperity and strength.
One by one, the children stretched and yawned, their earlier excitement giving way to drowsy anticipation. The cool night air had settled in, and with it, the promise of a new day.
Qin Jingwen smiled softly. “Off to bed, little ones. Tomorrow is a special day.”
With murmured goodnights, the children trickled inside, leaving Wuji to linger. He stood there for a moment longer, his gaze fixed on the two moons. Their soft glow bathed the village in an ethereal light, both serene and powerful—a silent blessing that hung over the land, waiting to embrace them all
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The next morning, Wuji woke up later than usual, skipping his routine. Instead, he simply freshened up before heading to the courtyard. Today was the Festival of Twin Moons, a sacred day that began with receiving the blessings of the celestial sisters by washing one’s face with moon-blessed water—a tradition passed down through generations.
As Wuji stepped into the courtyard, he found it already bustling with life. Mother Qin Jingwen and the others were gathered, dressed in ceremonial robes, while the courtyard itself had been adorned with silk banners of deep crimson and serene azure, symbolizing the twin moons. The air carried a faint floral fragrance, and small incense burners released curling wisps of blue and red smoke into the sky.
He instinctively looked up—and there they were. The twin moons, normally hidden by daylight, were faintly visible, shimmering with an unearthly glow. It was a sight both mystical and unsettling, as if the heavens themselves had opened their gaze upon the mortal realm.
Soon, more children arrived, gathering in eager anticipation. Mother Qin Jingwen, standing by the ceremonial bronze basin, smiled warmly and began explaining the significance of the festival.
“The Twin Moons, Yuelan and Yuehong, were once celestial sisters who guided the balance of fate,” she began, her voice gentle yet firm. “Each year, on this day, their divine presence aligns in harmony, blessing all who seek wisdom and strength. This ritual cleanses our spirit and mind, ensuring that we walk forward with clarity and purpose.”
She gestured toward the basin, filled with moon-blessed water—water that had been left under the twin moons' radiance the night before, absorbing their essence. “This water is not ordinary,” she continued. “It is touched by the celestial light, washing away misfortune and refreshing the soul. From the youngest to the eldest, we partake in this rite to embrace renewal.”
She then clasped her hands together and began chanting a sacred mantra, her voice carrying a melodic cadence:
"Under twin moons, balance bright,
Cleanse the mind, embrace the light.
Azure wisdom, crimson flame,
Guide our steps, keep us sane....."
The younger children, too young to remember the words, repeated after her in hushed reverence.
After the chant, she beckoned toward Mei, the youngest, who hesitated briefly before stepping forward. “The youngest shall wash first, for they are closest to purity,” Qin Jingwen said, gently encouraging her. Mei carefully dipped her small hands into the cool, shimmering water, cupping it before pressing it against her face. She let out a soft giggle at its refreshing touch.
Next, it was Wuji’s turn. Stepping forward, he mimicked Mei’s actions, cupping the water in his hands and splashing it over his face. He had expected it to be just another ritual—one of many traditions carried over generations, often performed without true understanding.
But the moment the water touched his skin, something shifted.
A sudden clarity washed over him, like a fog lifting from his mind. He felt weightless, focused, aware—as if his thoughts, scattered like autumn leaves, had suddenly aligned into perfect order. His breath hitched.
‘This... isn’t normal.’
In his previous life living in India, he had participated in countless ceremonies, none of which had ever produced tangible effects. But this was different. This was real. His logical mind instantly sought an explanation—was there some unknown property in the water? A special mineral? Or perhaps... an undiscovered energy?
He glanced around, but no one else seemed surprised. To them, this was simply tradition, something they followed without question. They did not ask why—they only obeyed what had been passed down for generations.
Realizing he wouldn’t find his answers here, Wuji sighed and stepped aside, pushing his curiosity to the back of his mind—at least for now. Today was a day of celebration, and though questions burned within him, he intended to experience the festival and uncover its mysteries in time.
And as such after Qin Jingwen’s turn the first ritual concluded. She turned to the children, her voice warm yet firm.
“Now, go and cleanse yourselves properly. Put on the robes prepared for today. A new beginning starts with purity.”
The children nodded eagerly before scattering toward the bathhouse. Wuji followed suit, still contemplating the strange clarity he had felt from the moon-blessed water.
Inside the bathhouse, steam curled into the air, carrying the faint fragrance of sandalwood and jasmine. The water had been infused with spirit-cleansing herbs, a tradition believed to wash away lingering misfortune before stepping into the festival’s blessings. Wuji submerged himself in the warm water, feeling a sense of tranquility settle over him.
After bathing, he dressed in ceremonial robes—a pristine white garment, embroidered with flowing patterns of red and blue threads, mirroring the colors of the Twin Moons. The fabric was soft, yet the stitching carried an intricate weight of tradition, a silent reminder of the festival’s deep-rooted history.
Stepping outside, Wuji found that several children had already gathered in the courtyard, their robes shimmering under the soft daylight. One by one, the rest arrived, their expressions a mix of excitement and reverence.
Qin Jingwen stood at the center, a gentle but knowing smile on her lips. “Come,” she said, her voice carrying an air of quiet authority. “The next ritual awaits.”
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