Chapter 131

"Those little beasts on two legs invented such things; I can't make heads or tails of them."

Qing Zhouxue held the candle and examined the carvings one by one. Because the stone wall had remained untouched for years, sheltered from wind and sun, the writing was remarkably well-preserved, the strokes as sharp as if they had been carved moments ago.

She could vaguely recognize her master's handwriting, but these strokes were cut with a fierce, piercing edge, quite unlike her current style.

Above, names were packed densely together, many bearing the Xu surname.

Each and every one was slashed through with a diagonal line.

Below the names, there was more text. Qing Zhouxue bent down, bringing the flame closer. It was no longer names but eight large characters, each stroke the heaviest of all, as if they had been chiseled through the stone wall.

【The Heavenly Dao cycles; recompense is certain.】

When Qing Zhouxue saw these words, a thin layer of sweat dampened her palms. She set the lamp back in place.

Xuan Wu noticed her sudden silence and was already thinking of ways to pique this young junior's interest.

After all, it had been a long, long time since it had last spoken. This dull stone turtle now realized that the girl before it seemed unaware of her master's—Yun Shuchen's—past.

It spoke slowly: "I am the mountain spirit, sharing the longevity of the mountains and rivers. That I woke and found you is fate. Your master used to talk to me to pass the time as well. I know quite a bit about her. Since I have nothing better to do, I might as well tell you a long story."

*

Several hundred autumns ago.

"Time to eat, time to eat—Senior Sister's not here again?" Zhou Shannan set down the bowls and chopsticks, muttering to himself.

"Master's so stingy, yet today he even stewed chicken soup. If Yun Shuchen doesn't come soon, there won't even be broth left." Yue Changge sat at the table, propping her chin on her hands, breathing in the rich aroma. She said dreamily, "Should we save a bowl for her and try it ourselves first... Mmm."

Suddenly, a pair of chopsticks slanted across, stopping Yue Changge's eager hand.

"Changge."

The middle-aged woman had her hair in a bun, her face kind. She withdrew the wooden chopsticks and asked slowly, "I haven't seen Chen'er these past few days. She stays behind closed doors all day. How many days has she gone without food?"

Yue Changge answered, "I haven't seen her today either. Master's wife, you know how that one is—when she trains, she pushes herself to the brink. No wonder she skips meals."

Xu Xiangjun frowned deeply at that, ladled out some food, and set it aside.

Just then, Lin Qingya set the last stir-fried dish on the table.

"Keep this warm. I'll take it to her later." Xu Xiangjun signaled to Lin Qingya, who cast a layer of spiritual energy over the reserved food.

Lin Qingya sat down, counted the dishes on the table, and indeed noted the absence of the one that most needed nourishment.

He began fussing and worrying again: "I've said it before—when you're still growing, you shouldn't easily go into fasting. That girl has never once heeded advice, which is why she grew up so sickly, out of breath even climbing a mountain, and struggling to lift a sword when practicing. In cultivation, how can you be so impatient..."

"Master, even if you talk until we're all bald, Junior Sister Yun won't listen."

Lin Qingya, as the founding patriarch of Taichu Sect, had six personal disciples under him—half chosen for aptitude, half tricked into joining.

The others all grew well, like spring bamboo shoots sprouting after rain, a heartening sight.

Only the fourth disciple was different. No matter how many tonics they fed her, she always appeared pale and fragile, like a delicate rare flower that would take ill with the slightest carelessness; catching a cold eight times a year was almost routine.

Xu Xiangjun remembered the day she and Lin Qingya picked the child up at the gate of Liuyun Sect. She was drenched, burning with fever, hovering on the brink of death, her breathing barely perceptible.

They had administered spirit pills and remedies then, but her condition showed no improvement. They thought she wouldn't survive, yet she stubbornly held on, living weakly and obstinately, her spark faint but never extinguished.

That had stirred Xu Xiangjun's compassion greatly, prompting her to give the girl extra care.

Chen'er gradually went from distant to familiar, then to dependent, and once she had nothing else to do, she would cling to her.

After all these years raising her, Xu Xiangjun felt she had gained a daughter.

At that time, Taichu Sect was barely a minor sect, roughly divided into inner and outer gates, without even distinct peaks.

All the inner disciples cultivated on the Main Peak with their master.

Xu Xiangjun knocked on Yun Shuchen's door. After a long while, the door opened a crack, revealing half the girl's side profile.

"Why didn't you come eat?"

"I was cultivating," she said. Seeing her master's wife, her pair of clear, autumn-water eyes quickly curved, and she said affectionately, "I forgot."

"That can't happen again."

Xu Xiangjun sighed, setting the food and dishes on the table, the warmth still right for eating. "Anyway, you still need to eat. Don't take it as a chore."

Yun Shuchen frowned slightly, then sat down, picked up her bowl, and ate in silence by the mouthful. "I'll soon be fasting anyway."

"There's no need to rush." Xu Xiangjun suddenly looked at her seriously. "Changge says you always like to push yourself in training. Is that true?"

"In the path of cultivation, striving for excellence—what's wrong with that? Sometimes the slightest difference decides victory or defeat."

Yun Shuchen was indifferent. Her lowered lashes moved slightly, revealing a trace of mockery.

The ones raised like fragile flowers within the sect—they would never understand the cruelty of the world.

"Then what does Chen'er wish to surpass?"

To surpass everyone who had blocked, bullied, or humiliated her—at the very least, to be stronger than Tang Wuyue.

That was Yun Shuchen's plan, but her eyes flickered, and she didn't voice it. Instead, she shook her head as if she didn't know: "I haven't decided yet."

Xu Xiangjun said nothing. She walked to the window and pushed the wooden pane open.

It was the height of spring; the mountain flowers outside were a blaze of red, carpeting the ground.

The blazing sun edged the blossoms in gold, a mingling of orange and red, clusters upon clusters, a silent yet thriving spectacle.

It was a beautiful scene, but the child had kept her window shut.

Even with her master's wife opening the window to flood the room with light, Yun Shuchen's eyes weren't drawn to the mountain flowers. Instead, she fixed on the two gray patches at her master's wife's temples.

Those strands of silver were glaring, especially in the sunlight.

"Master's wife, why don't you cultivate?"

Yun Shuchen's brows knitted tightly as she put down her bowl and chopsticks.

Xu Xiangjun was startled. Leaning by the window, she turned back: "Not everyone has that kind of fortune."

"How can that be?"

Her sleeve was tugged slightly, and Xu Xiangjun met the girl's confused eyes: "Even Junior Brother, as dull as wood, can manage to circulate spiritual energy. And the scriptures of the Dao—it was you who taught me to read and recite."

Something glimmered in her eyes, wavering into a gentle brightness, like a thin veil of tears.

Xu Xiangjun was momentarily at a loss for words.

Yun Shuchen's hand loosened, her lashes drooping inch by inch. She clutched her sleeve: "I just want you to stay with me a little longer."

A hand slowly came to rest on her head, patting it comfortingly, before a voice finally said:

"Alright."

Xu Xiangjun didn't know whether telling this lie was right or wrong.

But at that moment, the child's initial caution turned to repeated confirmation, and when she was finally reassured, her face brightened considerably, no longer looking as fragile. Xu Xiangjun saw this but felt an inexplicable pang of heartache.

Chen'er had been lonely since childhood; by her own account, both her parents had passed away. This rare thread of family affection was probably the most extravagant thing in her life.

Xu Xiangjun resolved to let her know about these partings when she was older.

Spring gave way to autumn, and the mountain flowers of Taichu Sect blazed red for over a decade.

In her later years, Xu Xiangjun's health declined, often racked with coughs that brought up blood. Every year, Yun Shuchen would ask her if she was lying.

Anyone with eyes could tell it was a lie, and she knew it deep down.

But as years passed and her master's wife could no longer leave her bed, Yun Shuchen stopped asking.

Over the years, besides her own cultivation, Yun Shuchen had begged her master, sought out medical cultivators far and wide, and trawled through books in desperate search of unusual methods—searching for a needle in a haystack. But everything was futile.

After all, long before her, Lin Qingya had already tried every possible method at no small cost.

Xu Xiangjun's poor aptitude wasn't innate. Her Spirit Root had been destroyed, and her dantian damaged as well, beyond the reach of even a heavenly immortal.

Another year, during the Moon Lantern Festival.

Beneath Taichu Sect's thick clouds, the mortal lanterns twinkled like stars, casting a brilliant glow.

Xu Xiangjun felt her end drawing near. She spoke with Lin Qingya about funeral arrangements, comforted him, dismissed the other disciples who were softly sobbing, and met with Yun Shuchen alone.

"Among all these children, you are the one I worry about most."

She propped herself up slightly, her hunched figure swaying with coughs like a candle about to be snuffed out by the wind. Yun Shuchen hurried to support her, and her master's wife took her hand: "As for cultivation, Chen'er is very diligent—too diligent, perhaps."

"That year, you forgot to eat... The mountain flowers were lovely, yet you didn't even glance at them. If you spend your whole life cultivating and seeking the Dao just to reach the peak, you'll miss all the scenery along the way. That is no way to live."

Xu Xiangjun stroked Yun Shuchen's head, paused for a moment, then tried to wipe the tears from her face: "Why cry? My life may have been short, but in my later years, I enjoyed family happiness. I've lived well, with no regrets and no unfulfilled wishes."

Seeing that her tears truly wouldn't stop, Xu Xiangjun let her be. She lay on her side, smiling weakly:

"You're the cleverest, so I don't need to say much... Little girl, remember to be good to yourself from now on. No matter how hard life gets, no matter how bitter or tiring it is, learn to love yourself—dress up nicely, taste the food you like, and see the beauty of this world. Do you understand?"

No answer came, only small, choked sobs.

"Is today a festival?" Xu Xiangjun coughed a few times, then said softly, "I'd like to see the Moon Lanterns. Go fetch one for me."

Yun Shuchen stood up: "Alright... Master's wife, wait for me."

She staggered a few steps forward, then turned back in panic: "Wait for me."

Xu Xiangjun mustered the last of her strength to smile at her, watching that figure swiftly vanish beyond the doorframe.

Her steps never stopped—partly riding the wind, partly stumbling. Yun Shuchen descended the mountain at the fastest speed of her life, pushing through crowds in the bustling mortal world teeming with life.

But her heart raced with anxiety, and her eyes fixed only on one Moon Lantern.

She chose the brightest one, paid without even thinking, and immediately turned back toward the peak, abandoning all noise behind her.

The night wind was bitter. In her haste, she even forgot the wind-breaking technique, letting her hair whip loose, her face stung as if cut by a blade.

The Moon Lantern in her hand swayed, nearly going out.

Yun Shuchen cradled it as if it were a precious treasure.

She was terrified of being too late, terrified that any delay would see her master's wife leave her—

She didn't dare pause even for a moment.

At last, the dormitory was in sight. Two steps—one step.

The tears in Yun Shuchen's eyes gleamed in the light of the Moon Lantern, more brilliant than the Milky Way. Clutching the lantern, she was about to rush in when the sound of crying reached her ears. The door creaked open. Her senior brother emerged, eyes red, and silently shook his head at her.

She suddenly stopped, frozen where she stood.

The Moon Lantern slipped from her hand and hit the ground with a thud.

Splashing starlight across the earth.

Happy Qixi Festival!