The Twelve Zodiac Guardian Gods​

“I’m seriously asking—how much further is it?” Qi Yue panted, leaning forward with his hands on his knees. He didn’t have altitude sickness, but climbing at this elevation was no joke.

The young monk continued ahead, his steps light. “We’re almost there.”

At last, they stopped in front of a solemn, timeworn hall. Qi Yue’s gaze swept over the heavy wooden doors, etched with strange, ancient symbols. The monk gestured for him to follow, then quietly pushed the doors open.

Inside, the hall was pristine and austere. At its center stood a grand statue of the Buddha, bathed in a gentle golden light. The young monk stepped forward, bowed deeply before the statue, then turned to Qi Yue.

In the presence of the Buddha, the monk’s expression seemed to grow even more serene and dignified, his aura solemn.

“Alright, can you tell me now?” Qi Yue said, his patience wearing thin. “Why bring me all the way here?”

Honestly, if not for the Lincoln Navigator and that lifesaving bag of yak milk, he might’ve bolted long ago.

The monk’s tone was calm, almost indifferent. “I brought you here to help you open your mind.”

“Open my mind?” Qi Yue snorted. “What is this, a lecture? I’m not some block of wood that needs carving, thank you very much.”

The monk raised a hand. “One should not speak so rudely before the Buddha. You came to Tibet because of fate. That fate led you to me. Think of me as your enlightener. To be honest, I never imagined that someone so important to the East would turn out to be… someone like you.”

Qi Yue’s face darkened. “So, you’re looking down on me? Is that it?”

His tone turned sharp. “I don’t care about temples, monks, or fate. If this is all just to insult me, then maybe we should just end this here. You can show me the door.”

Sure, Qi Yue was rough around the edges—a bit of a rogue—but he had pride. If this hadn’t been a monk, he would’ve either walked out or socked the guy on principle. Back in the capital, nothing irked him more than being looked down on. Even if pushing back never got him far, it was how he defended his dignity.

But the monk wasn’t fazed. He continued as if Qi Yue hadn’t said a word.

“In our East—specifically, the Yanhuang Republic—we are the pearl of this world. And the mysteries that protect the East are not something ordinary people can comprehend. For thousands of years, there has always been a group of silent guardians. Their existence ensures the peace and prosperity of the East. They emerge once every thousand years, destined by fate itself.”

Qi Yue raised an eyebrow, wary. “What is this, a history lesson? Or are you just trying to tell me a bedtime story?”

The monk shook his head. “No. I’m telling you the story that is about to unfold—your story. There are many things in this world we can’t explain. But not everything we don’t understand is illusion. Many of these things… are very real.”

At those words, Qi Yue couldn’t help recalling his strange dreams—the voice, the pull toward this land. A chill ran through his chest.

He swallowed. “These people you’re talking about… the ones protecting the East… What are they? Gods? Are you telling me gods actually exist?”

The young monk shook his head calmly. “There may be no god in the way people imagine—but there is something greater. A sacred bloodline has been passed down through generations. And you, Qi Yue, carry the most refined essence of that legacy.”

Qi Yue burst out laughing. “You’re quite the storyteller, little monk. You drove me over two hundred kilometers in the middle of the night just to spin a tale? I come to Tibet, meet a complete stranger, and the next thing I know, I’m being dragged into some fantastical destiny? Come on. You really think I’m going to believe all this?” He turned to leave, shaking his head. “Your story’s interesting, I’ll give you that. But it’s not my story. I’m done here.”

Did Qi Yue truly disbelieve the monk’s words?

Not exactly.

A part of him—deep down—had already started to believe. But something inside stirred uncomfortably, a subtle alarm sounding in the back of his mind. And when people feel threatened, they run.

It was self-defense more than disbelief.

As he turned to leave, the monk’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Stay,” the monk said softly. “If you want proof that what I’ve said is real—then remove your shirt.”

Qi Yue froze, then spun around. “You want me to undress? In front of the Buddha’s statue? I may not be religious, but that feels a bit disrespectful, doesn’t it?”

The monk smiled faintly. “Then perhaps you do have some faith after all. But worry not—when we are born, we come into this world with nothing. The Buddha will understand. Please—take off your shirt.”

Qi Yue snorted. “Forget it. I don’t care what kind of proof you’re offering. I’m leaving.” He turned again, stomping toward the door.

But just then, a gentle force tugged at him.

Qi Yue’s body froze.

He struggled instinctively, but no matter how hard he pushed his legs or strained his muscles, he couldn’t take a single step forward.

That soft, invisible force wasn’t aggressive—it didn’t hurt. But it bound him more effectively than iron chains. Before he knew it, he had been drawn backward. The young monk was now standing in front of him, his eyes serene and steady.

With a subtle wave of his hand, the monk summoned a breeze. Qi Yue’s coat floated off his shoulders like a fallen leaf, drifting away to reveal the lean, bronze-toned skin beneath.

The monk’s gaze settled on him, full of something between awe and sorrow.

“Every generation of the Qilin is this stubborn,” the monk said quietly. “Their defiance runs deep—but in the past, they turned that stubbornness into courage. They sacrificed themselves to protect the East.”

He sighed, his tone turning almost wistful.

“But you… you wear your defiance like armor. Not to protect others, but to shield yourself from the truth. I wonder… is your emergence a blessing, or a curse for the Yanhuang Republic?”

The monk lifted his hand slowly. His pale, jade-like index finger extended, glowing softly in the dim light of the hall. He pressed it gently to the center of Qi Yue’s chest—right above the heart.