At four in the afternoon, we boarded the flight to Kunming right on schedule. Since it wasn't a direct route, requiring two layovers in Wuhan and Chengdu, the total journey would stretch for over thirteen hours—essentially overnight.

I had expected the trip to be incredibly dull, filled with nothing but dozing off, but as soon as we settled into our seats, all three of us started having stomach issues.

Number 2 clutched his stomach, bolting toward the lavatory, muttering, "Number 12, you absolute jinx! Why did you insist on eating that street-side Oden? I swear the old woman running the stall had a mole on her lip and a mouth full of yellow teeth when she smiled. It was definitely cooked in gutter oil. This hurts like hell!"

Since Number 12 was currently occupying the only restroom, Number 2 grew frantic, gripping his midsection and shouting, "Hurry up and open the door, or I’m going to soil myself right here!"

Although the flight attendants repeatedly asked Number 2 to keep it down—passengers needed their rest—who can really control a sudden, violent bout of diarrhea?

So, after Number 2 finally managed to pound the lavatory door open and Number 12 emerged looking ghastly pale, I darted past him into the stall. Before locking the bolt, I called out to Number 2, "Sorry, Senior, I'm about to explode!"

Just as I pulled down my pants and [redacted for literary effect], I heard Number 2 let out a bloodcurdling shriek from outside.

I put on my headphones, pretending not to hear anything, and enjoyed a thorough evacuation. When I pushed the door open, Number 2 was nowhere to be seen.

Back at our seats, I questioned Number 12. The guy grinned mischievously and said, "A flight attendant gave Number 2 one of the sick bags meant for motion sickness victims and then escorted him to a private room in the rear."

Seeing Number 12’s expression, I couldn't help but laugh, retorting with a smirk, "I have a feeling this airline is going to blacklist us."

Truthfully, I felt a mix of amusement and exasperation, because even now, I still saw myself as a hero dedicated to maintaining peace. But this display was worlds away from our true identities.

About ten minutes later, Number 2 returned, his face the color of old parchment. He didn't say much, just shook his head at us, muttering, "Sin, sin..."

After that, he opened his palm. Resting there were a few small white pills.

I asked him what they were. He informed us they were anti-diarrhea medication.

Number 12 and I exchanged a look and asked in unison, "Did you wash your hands?"

Number 2 finally dropped any pretense of monastic compassion. He seized Number 12 by the throat and forcefully stuffed the pills into his mouth, chasing them down with nearly half a bottle of water.

I watched as the water choked Number 12 so badly he looked like he was about to cough up a lung, his face turning a sickly green.

When Number 2 slowly turned his gaze toward me, I quickly snatched the remaining pills from his hand and declared, "I'll take them myself! I'll take them!"

Seeing that I had swallowed the medicine, Number 2 finally nodded, then sat cross-legged, entering a state of deep meditation.

The elderly couple sitting across from us had watched our entire exchange in stunned silence.

Number 2’s posture, seated like he was on a heated brick stove, left them utterly speechless.

Noticing their astonished expressions, I could only rub the back of my head and offer a helpless smile.

After taking the stomach medicine, the three of us finally stopped causing trouble, allowing the entire cabin to settle into quiet slumber.

We all drifted off, until a violent jolt yanked me awake from a dream.

The moment my eyes opened, I heard a tremendous BOOM, and a brilliant flash of light zipped past the window.

Peering closely outside, I saw thick layers of black clouds completely obscuring the view beyond the pane, making any assessment of the flight conditions impossible.

It was at this moment that all the cabin lights flickered on, and the passengers stirred, scrambling hastily out of their seats.

I noticed everyone around me frowning, their faces etched with fear.

The intercom crackled to life. The attendant on duty announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, please remain calm. The aircraft is currently traversing a storm cell, and there may be unstable air currents causing turbulence. For safety, we will shortly have staff assist you with putting on your life vests."

I thought, No way are we this unlucky. It’s the dead of winter; how can there be a thunderous storm cell?

As soon as the thought crossed my mind, there was another deafening CRACK of thunder outside, and countless lightning bolts began weaving through the clouds like gigantic, luminous dragons, presenting a spectacle that was simultaneously magnificent and deeply unsettling.

Seeing the weather, the faces inside the cabin turned ashen. The elderly couple opposite us were gripping each other's hands tightly, their eyes shut as they silently recited something.

In the seat diagonally across the aisle, a fashionable young woman with purple-dyed hair had tears welling up in her eyes.

Witnessing this scene, I too finally felt the suffocating tension in the air.

Encountering such a severe storm cell meant the air currents would be extremely volatile. The plane risked being struck by lightning, potentially damaging crucial systems, or being tossed around by the turbulence, leading to a loss of control and a high probability of crashing.

Every life aboard the aircraft currently stuck in this tempest hung by a thread.

I saw Number 12 beside me had curled into a tight ball from sheer terror, mumbling softly, "No way... this is my first time flying, and I run into this..."

Number 2, although maintaining his meditation posture, had his eyes wide open, staring vigilantly out the window.

When he noticed me looking, he glanced my way. After a few seconds, he finally asked, "Ten, can you fly?"

I thought, What kind of question is that? What do you mean, 'can I fly'?

Number 2 quickly clarified, "You can lift a ten-ton elevator; that means you should be able to lift yourself too."

I retorted, "Ants can lift objects a hundred times their body weight, but you don't see ants lifting themselves off the ground."

"That's different," Number 2 insisted. "Levitation supers who can lift heavy objects usually come standard with flight capabilities. It’s a baseline feature. Anyway, if anything happens to the plane in a bit, you have to fly me out, okay?"

I thought, What kind of pact is this? I’m supposed to be the one showing off and flying you out?

Just as I was about to explain, Number 12, sobbing and sniffling, interjected, "Count me in too! Please!"

I gently pulled their tightly clasped hands away. "The wind outside is too strong. I’m afraid I might blow you away."

At this point, the old man from the couple across from us finally spoke up. "Poor, frightened children, you're all scared silly. There, there, stop talking nonsense. The plane isn't going to crash yet."

The three of us were left speechless, realizing we were definitely being viewed as a trio of lunatics.

Soon, a flight attendant approached, handing each of us a life vest and instructing us on how to put it on.

I took the opportunity to ask her, "Excuse me, miss, could you tell us roughly where we are? And why such intense convection weather in the middle of winter?"

The flight attendant smiled when I called her 'miss' and replied, "We’ll be near Wuhan soon. The weather here is much warmer than in Beijing. Thunderstorms in winter aren't unusual; after all, this is only early winter."

As soon as she finished speaking, the plane shuddered violently again, and all the lights began to strobe.

Everyone on board screamed, descending into outright panic.

Fortunately, the shaking lasted less than five seconds before the lights stabilized.

The voice over the intercom suddenly sounded more strained: "Passengers, we are passing through a severe convective layer. Once we exit this area, we will be safe. Please remain seated and refrain from panicking."

Rumble, rumble—another massive clap of thunder, and streaks of lightning flashed past the aircraft.

When the incessant drone of the thunder caused the bottled water on the tray table to vibrate and jump, someone in a seat behind us shouted excitedly, "Look! There’s something in the clouds! What is that thing?"

Hearing this, the three of us whipped our heads toward the window.

We saw a fast-moving sphere cutting through the cloud cover, traveling at a speed at least three times faster than the plane. It had seemingly been trailing us in the rear clouds moments before, but suddenly shot forward to a position slightly ahead of our wing, moving at the aircraft's current velocity, making the object appear almost stationary to our eyes.

Though the clouds were thick, I could clearly make out the luminous sphere constantly shifting colors.

"What is that? A UFO?" I exclaimed, startled.

Number 2 frowned deeply and stated, "That’s no damned UFO. That’s ball lightning, or as some call it, a lightning spirit."

It was the first time I had heard the term 'lightning spirit,' so I asked, "What does that mean?"

"No time for explanations. Once this poor monk recites a passage from the Vajra Sutra to chase them off, the plane will be fine," Number 2 said calmly.

Seeing him fall silent and begin chanting his scripture, I knitted my brows and muttered, "If you’re not going to talk, fine."

Then Number 12 piped up, "That’s ball lightning. I’ve seen tons of videos about it online. It seems quite interesting."

Hearing that, I asked, "Interesting? How so?"

Number 12 thought for a moment. "Well, even though it’s a form of lightning, it seems to possess a degree of consciousness compared to regular bolts."

"Conscious? How so?" I asked, admitting my limited knowledge in this area.

Number 12 considered it. "Let me tell you about one specific case. There was some strange surveillance footage from the Forbidden City in Beijing. It was sometime in 2002. Late one night, two guards on duty in the monitoring room were chatting idly when they suddenly saw a white flash on one of the TV monitors. Then, a sphere dropped onto the courtyard in front of one of the palaces and just kept rolling around in place, doing... well, we didn't know what it was doing."

"Initially, the staff were terrified, thinking it was some kind of monster. But upon closer inspection, the thing was glowing with electricity, likely what the legends call 'ground thunder'—ball lightning. And just then, the ball lightning rolling on the ground began to change. From its original oval shape, it sprouted four stubby, thick limbs, much like a person’s, and started crawling around on the ground."

"The guards, Lao Li and Lao Zhang, were stunned. They decided to summon their courage and venture out to the palace entrance to get a better look..."