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Chapter 286. Listening to the Rain and the Azure River
My name is Tingyu Tan.

But long, long ago, I was not a still pool, but a rushing river.

Jiang Jianxin was immersed in this power of omniscience, as if he had transformed into a river, rushing forward in the wide waterway, the touch of the riverbed clearly coming from the bottom of the water.

Omniscience transformed the memories of the river into words, which appeared one by one in her mind.

She is like someone standing on the bank of time, watching the magnificent life of a river.

My memories begin with the pulse deep within the earth.

At that time, I was full of power, a jubilant vein in these mountains. I cleaved through layers of rock, washed over gravel, singing all the way, rushing towards the distant ocean.

At that time, my life was dynamic, full of wildness and freedom.

However, fate took a turn during a silent but momentous upheaval.

The river flowed quietly, and although it was a turning point, it seemed unusually uneventful.

Beside me, a younger, more ambitious river is relentlessly eroding its source, attempting to expand its territory.

Finally, after a night of torrential rain, I felt a part of my body being suddenly ripped away.

After those words were spoken, Jiang Jianxin felt as if he had personally experienced that moment of tearing apart—the originally abundant and full body of water suddenly collapsed, and a sense of emptiness spread from the depths.

She "heard" another river roaring and surging beside her.

—That was originally her water, her strength, her life's flow.

River should be indifferent to sorrow or joy, but the feeling of being forcibly taken away is too real, like a silent wound, standing between it and its former self.

The power of omniscience transformed this process into words, floating in her consciousness, each stroke imbued with a faint yet enduring sorrow.

[...that river successfully cut through the mountain ridge between us, brazenly seizing the upstream flow that should rightfully belong to me.]

That was a geographically significant "severance."

I have lost my source, my living water. My surging flow has come to an abrupt halt.

The downstream riverbed quickly dried up and became abandoned, like a withered, abandoned blood vessel.

[But I, because I happened to flow through a huge pothole made of hard rock, the deepest part of the pothole, was able to retain the last part of the water and did not completely disappear.]

From then on, we were siblings from the same mother, yet our fates diverged.

The text paused here, and after a short while, the rest of the text began.

It stole my name and future, its water volume multiplied, roaring to become a main vein, continuing its pioneering journey.

Boats ply the riverbanks, towns flourish, and people call it the "Mother River," its official name being the Cangjiang River.

And I, forgotten in this mountain valley, have transformed from a river into a pool.

【…】

My world has slowed down.

As these words appeared, Jiang Jianxin felt the once surging water slowly recede and fall silent in the embrace of the valley.

Like a weary traveler who finally stops, folding the rushing memories into a deep, tranquil turquoise.

[...losing its driving force, the silt gradually settled in my embrace, my waters became clearer, but also increasingly shallow.]

My riverbank is no longer a mudflat eroded by water, but is now covered with moss, reeds, and weeping willows.

Frogs come to roost here, and dragonflies skim the water's surface.

My personality has changed from passionate to calm.

I learned to listen—to listen to the wind rustling through the treetops, the snow falling on the water, and most wonderfully, to listen to the rain. Because of my basin-like terrain and the surrounding mountains and forests, the sound of raindrops striking all things is gathered and amplified, forming a natural symphony.

The gentle patter and tinkling sounds are my most intimate dialogue with heaven and earth.

Later generations discovered my unique tranquility and no longer called me "the abandoned river" or "the old path," but bestowed upon me a new name—"Listening to the Rain Pool."

After settling in this valley, I often reminisce about the past.

Back then, I was still a great river.

Someone built a pavilion beside me and released lotus lanterns into the water.

Many more people fall into this river, saying, "River of Prayer for Rain, life is too painful; in the next life, I wish to be a carefree river."

I should have remained indifferent, but strangely, as more and more people fell into the water...

I sensed human emotions.

The mundane documentary about a natural river comes to an abrupt end here.

There were no more words in the image. Jiang Jianxin felt as if he had been suddenly pulled underwater. He saw muffled voices coming from the shimmering water.

"...This time it's another money-loser. You woman, it's such bad luck that you can't give birth to a boy!"

"My child! No! No—"

"Wow————"

With a loud splash, accompanied by the cry of a baby, something fell down.

Jiang Jianxin saw the crying baby girl. She stretched out her hand with all her might, and the water began to surge, creating wave after wave.

—By the way, she is a river, and she has no hands.

The baby's cries grew weaker and weaker, and a group of fish swam over, nibbling and sucking.

"Wow---"

More sounds of falling followed. Time seemed to collapse at that moment, and on the same surface of the water, more and more babies fell like raindrops, crashing into wave after wave of helpless spray.

The waves grew larger, and indistinct, noisy human voices drifted from beyond the water:

"The river god is angry... He wants the bride! Only by tying these girls to stones and sacrificing them to the river god can we appease the natural disaster!"

"Splash—splash—gurgle gurgle..."

The heavy cage plunged into the water, binding the stones and the weeping girl.

Jiang Jian thought she should swing her sword and cut open the cage—but she had neither hands nor a sword.

It is a river, and all it can do is cry.

The pouring rain is its tears, the surging waves its silent screams. More and more bones pile up at the riverbed, and shadows spread from the depths, engulfing the entire river.

Until it was seized by the main stream and forced into a basin valley, trapped in a pool between these mountains—that shadow that had accumulated for many years finally completely enveloped its entire world.

The omniscient mind once again revealed the words in his mind.

Now, I lie here in silence.

The Cangjiang River still roars in the distance; it is a young and new river, and its magnificent epic has only just begun.

[And in my life, the history of the river has been forever frozen on that fateful rainy night.]

A new me was born in the boiling waves, and now people call me—

[“Tingyu Tan Polluted Area”]