## Chapter 4: Rain, Rats, and Resonant Rubber Ducks
The stable felt like a fortress after the Grand Bazaar. Wang Ling spent the rest of the day obsessively cleaning tack, his mind replaying the Chaos Weasel and the terrifying grey-robed man on a loop. The hot sauce bottle sat in his Inventory like a live grenade. He'd almost died. Twice. Once by mutant squirrel, once by condiment-induced cultivator rage. This world was insane.
*Ding!* The cheerful chime felt jarring.
**[Daily Check-in Available!]**
**[Would you like to Check-in now?]**
Wang Ling sighed. "What fresh madness now?" He mentally confirmed.
**[Daily Check-in Complete!]**
**[Reward: 1 x Bright Yellow Rubber Duck (Squeaky), 1 x Small Disco Ball (12cm Diameter), 1 x Pack of Bubblegum (Watermelon Flavor)]**
Wang Ling stared at the new additions in his Inventory. A rubber duck. A tiny disco ball. Bubblegum. "Seriously?" he muttered to Fluffy, who sat perched on a sack of grain. "Is the System just mocking me now? Am I supposed to start bath time for the Sky-Donks? Host a miniature dance party?" He resisted the urge to scream. No batteries. No useful tools. Just… stuff. He left them stored, the absurdity adding to his sense of bewildered frustration.
He focused on the stable. The rhythmic scrape of the shovel, the warm smell of the Sky-Donks, the predictable ache in his muscles – these were his anchors. He learned their names from Bin: Stompy, the larger, more placid one, and Twitch, who had a habit of flicking his shimmering ears at flies. He learned their routines. He started noticing subtle things – how Twitch's hide shimmered brighter after drinking the purified spirit-water, how Stompy seemed to enjoy the specific rhythm of his brushing. It was mundane, grounding.
Old Man Fu watched this newfound diligence with a mix of awe and profound unease. To Fu, Wang Ling wasn't just cleaning; he was performing a sacred ritual of profound stability. The way he handled the manure – not with disgust, but with a kind of focused acceptance – spoke volumes about his Dao of Humble Labor. The care he took with the Sky-Donks? Clearly, a deep understanding of Spirit-Beast Harmony, disguised as simple stable work. Fu saw cosmic truths in the sweep of a broom. He became even more meticulous in providing simple meals and ensuring the storage shed was draft-free, interpreting Wang Ling's quiet acceptance as profound contentment with the arrangement. He kept the "noodle incident" and the Bazaar encounter locked tightly in his mind, proof of the unfathomable power simmering beneath the surface.
Li Rong, however, was a storm cloud hovering over the Restful Journey. She avoided the stable yard entirely. When she passed through the common room, her gaze would flick towards the back door with a mix of lingering terror and simmering outrage. She spoke sharply to Bin, snapped at minor inconveniences, and radiated a tension that made the air hum. She hadn't told her father, Patriarch Li, the *real* reason for her distress – how could she? "Father, the stable boy assaulted me with spiritually volatile noodles that shattered my Qi barrier!" It sounded ludicrous, even to her. But the memory of that concussive wave of *spice*, the way her Qi had recoiled in agony… it haunted her. She watched Wang Ling from her window when she thought no one was looking, studying his every mundane move, searching for a crack in the facade, a hint of the terrifying power she'd glimpsed (or tasted). She saw only a diligent, slightly awkward boy. It made him even more terrifying.
* * *
Three days after the Bazaar incident, the sky bruised over. Swirling clouds, darker than the usual violet-indigo, gathered with unnatural speed. The air grew thick, charged with a prickling energy that made Wang Ling's hair stand on end. Not just rain, but a spirit-storm, Bin explained nervously, common in the Mortal Dust Province. "Bad Qi in the air. Makes beasts restless. Makes cultivators grumpy. Best stay inside."
The storm broke with a vengeance just after dusk. Not rain, but thick, heavy drops that felt like cold oil, hissing as they hit the ground. Jagged forks of lightning, not white but pulsating purple and green, ripped across the sky, followed by thunder that didn't boom but *screeched* like tearing metal. The wind howled, carrying strange, discordant whistles that set Wang Ling's teeth on edge. The protective wards on the inn itself glowed faintly blue, repelling the worst of the chaotic energy, but the stable felt exposed.
The Sky-Donks sensed it first. Stompy snorted, stamping a heavy hoof. Twitch tossed his head, eyes wide, showing the whites. The unnatural screech of the thunder sent them into a panic. They kicked at their stall doors, whinnying in high-pitched terror, their shimmering hides flickering erratically. The chaotic energy of the storm was agitating their innate Qi.
Wang Ling rushed into the stable. "Whoa! Easy! Easy, guys! It's just a storm!" He tried to soothe them, but his voice was lost in the wind's howl and another deafening metallic screech from above. Twitch reared, slamming his front hooves against the stall door. The heavy wood groaned. Stompy backed into a corner, trembling violently, his eyes rolling.
Panic surged in Wang Ling. If they broke out, they could hurt themselves or bolt into the storm. He needed to calm them. Fast. He remembered the rubber duck. It was stupid, absurd... but maybe? Animals liked silly things sometimes? It was worth a shot. Anything was better than a panicked Sky-Donk stampede.
He pulled the bright yellow rubber duck from his Inventory. It looked utterly ridiculous – cheerful, glossy, and completely out of place in the shadowy, storm-lashed stable filled with panicking spirit-beasts. He squeezed it.
*SQUEAK!*
The sound was high-pitched, plastic, and piercingly loud, cutting through the howl of the wind and the Sky-Donks' frightened cries.
Both beasts froze mid-movement. Twitch, half-reared, lowered his hooves slowly. Stompy stopped trembling, his large eyes fixing not on Wang Ling, but on the bright yellow object in his hand.
Wang Ling squeezed it again. *SQUEAK!*
The Sky-Donks tilted their heads in unison, ears swiveling forward. The frantic fear in their eyes was replaced by pure, dumbfounded curiosity. The unnatural screech of the thunder sounded again, but this time, they barely flinched, mesmerized by the duck.
"Squeak?" Wang Ling offered weakly, holding it out.
Stompy took a tentative step forward, sniffing the air towards the duck. Twitch chuffed softly, his earlier panic forgotten. Wang Ling carefully moved closer, holding the duck out like an offering. Stompy nudged it gently with his velvety nose. *SQUEAK!* The Sky-Donk jerked his head back, then nudged it again, a low, rumbling sound of curiosity vibrating in his chest. Twitch crowded closer, equally fascinated.
Wang Ling kept squeaking the duck, moving slowly, talking in a low, soothing voice. "See? Just a silly duck. Nothing scary. Just a storm." He wasn't sure they understood, but the bizarre yellow toy held their complete attention. Within minutes, both Sky-Donks were calm, nuzzling the duck and occasionally huffing at it, their earlier terror replaced by perplexed fascination. The storm raged outside, but inside the stable, an absurd peace reigned, punctuated only by rhythmic *SQUEAK*s.
Wang Ling sagged against a post in relief, still squeaking the duck occasionally to maintain the calm. "Okay, Fluffy," he muttered to the plush dog watching from a shelf. "Add 'spirit-beast pacifier' to the duck's resume. This world just keeps getting weirder."
* * *
He didn't see the observers.
**Old Man Fu:** He'd felt the Sky-Donks' panic through the storm's chaotic energy and rushed to the stable door, fearing the worst. He saw Wang Ling pull out the bizarre yellow object. He saw the beasts freeze. He heard the ridiculous *SQUEAK*. He saw the palpable wave of terror vanish from the Sky-Donks, replaced by profound, focused calm the moment the sound echoed. To Fu, it wasn't a toy. It was a *Sonic Talisman of Absolute Serenity*! The sound hadn't just distracted the beasts; it had *repelled* the chaotic storm Qi agitating them! The cheerful yellow color? Clearly a disguise for its potent, reality-soothing power! Wang Ling wasn't calming animals; he was wielding an artifact of profound Qi manipulation with casual expertise! Fu backed away slowly, heart pounding with reverence. The Hidden Dragon protected even the lowliest spirit-beasts in his care.
**Li Rong:** Peering from her slightly ajar window, drawn by the sounds of panic, she witnessed the entire scene. She saw the Sky-Donks in full terror, their Qi flaring chaotically. She saw Wang Ling produce the strange yellow… *thing*. She heard the squeak. She *felt* it. Not just sound, but a wave of pure, resonant *harmony* that cut through the discordant storm energy like a knife through smoke. The chaotic Qi recoiled from the stable. The beasts' panic didn't just subside; it was *erased*, replaced by an unnatural, profound calm. The object radiated no power she could sense visually, but its *effect* was undeniable, terrifyingly potent. Her earlier noodle trauma paled in comparison. This was direct, observable, impossible power wielded with casual ease. She slammed her window shut, trembling, the cheerful *SQUEAK* echoing in her mind like a divine command. He wasn't just powerful; he commanded forces that defied comprehension, disguised as… bath toys.
**Lady Chen:** The elegant woman from the Bazaar wasn't at the inn by chance. Her interest piqued by the hot sauce anomaly, she'd tracked Wang Ling to the Restful Journey. Disguised as a traveling merchant seeking shelter from the storm, she sat in the common room, her sensitive brass artifact hidden in her sleeve. When the Sky-Donk panic spiked the chaotic ambient Qi, her device vibrated intensely. She subtly aimed it towards the stable. She saw nothing through the walls, but her artifact reacted violently the moment the rubber duck squeaked. The needles, which had been spinning wildly tracking the storm's chaotic energy, suddenly snapped to a perfect, unwavering vertical line. *Absolute Neutralization of Chaotic Resonance*. The reading was off the charts, then stabilized into an impossible harmonic balance. It lasted only as long as the squeaks continued. She didn't see the duck, but she felt the impossible shift in the local Qi field – a pocket of pure, enforced calm emanating from the stable, centered precisely where the Qi-less boy was. Her eyes gleamed with intense fascination. This was no fluke. This was a pattern. The boy *was* an anomaly, or more likely, he carried artifacts of unimaginable, focused power disguised as mundane objects. She needed to get closer.
* * *
The storm passed by midnight, leaving behind a washed-clean silence and the drip of oily water from the eaves. The Sky-Donks slept peacefully, the rubber duck sitting like a tiny yellow sentinel on a post near Stompy's head. Wang Ling, exhausted, collapsed onto his cot, Fluffy tucked under his arm. He'd survived another day. He'd pacified giant donkey-things with a bathtub toy. He still didn't understand cultivation realms, the history of the Azure Dragon Continent, or why the sky had three suns. But he knew one thing: the System gave bizarre gifts, and in this insane world, even a rubber duck could be a lifeline.
He drifted off, unaware of the three powerful, unsettled minds dwelling on the implications of the Squeak That Calmed the Storm. Old Man Fu planned deeper devotion. Li Rong wrestled with terrified awe. Lady Chen plotted her approach. The unassuming stable boy, snoring softly in his shed, remained blissfully ignorant, dreaming not of cosmic power, but of a hot bowl of noodles and a Gameboy with working batteries. The undercurrents around the Restful Journey Inn were deepening, swirling around the epicenter of oblivious omnipotence and his growing collection of seemingly worthless, world-bending junk.