Chapter 44: The Child
“Jingxue, you’ve lost weight,” Lü Qingyan said, her voice laced with concern. “When can we leave this place?”
She lay on the ground, her ears drooping. She had never experienced such bland, unappetizing food, both in her past life and this one. But at least they wouldn’t starve.
They had tried to escape, but an invisible force prevented them from leaving the village.
It was a small village nestled at the foot of a mountain, its residents skilled in the art of preparing medicinal herbs, thanks to the abundance of herbs growing on the mountain.
Yue Lian, the girl who had found them, wasn’t a healer. She was a herb gatherer.
Bai Jingxue had been following Yue Lian, hoping to familiarize herself with the surrounding terrain. They had to cross a small river to reach the mountain, and the village seemed to be located downstream.
Seeing Yue Lian preparing to leave, her basket strapped to her back, Bai Jingxue quickly followed.
Lü Qingyan, her energy restored at the sight of the departing cat, dashed after her.
“Jingxue, have you found a way out?”
Yue Lian slowed her pace, glancing back occasionally to make sure the cat and dog were keeping up. If they fell behind, she would wait for them.
As a result, Bai Jingxue walked slowly and gracefully, her movements elegant. Yue Lian simply smiled, her patience unwavering.
They reached the riverbank, and Yue Lian crouched down, petting Bai Jingxue’s head. “Are you not crossing the river again today?” she asked, her voice gentle.
“Meow.”
Yue Lian stood up and continued walking, crossing the bridge. She waved at the cat and dog from the other side. “Wait for me, okay?”
Bai Jingxue meowed halfheartedly, then, once Yue Lian had disappeared into the forest, she tentatively stepped onto the bridge.
The world around her distorted, blurring at the edges, and a sharp pain pierced her head.
She quickly retreated, her paw withdrawing from the bridge.
As she had suspected, an invisible force confined them to this area. The other side of the river was forbidden territory.
Lü Qingyan also reached out with a paw, but Bai Jingxue stopped her.
“Don’t bother,” she said. “It’s useless. Let’s go back.”
She turned and walked away, Lü Qingyan following closely behind.
“Jingxue, are we going to be trapped here forever?” Lü Qingyan asked, her voice laced with a hint of excitement.
Bai Jingxue, surprised by the dog’s cheerful tone, turned to face her. “You seem happy about that,” she said.
Lü Qingyan was surprised. She had thought she had concealed her emotions well, but then she remembered who she was dealing with.
Bai Jingxue, due to her upbringing, was exceptionally observant. She had honed her ability to read people, to understand their hidden motives.
However, she was rather oblivious when it came to matters of the heart. Lü Qingyan’s blatant affection in their past life had gone completely unnoticed.
Since her true feelings had been exposed, Lü Qingyan decided to be honest. “I wouldn’t mind spending the rest of my life here with you,” she said, her voice soft.
Lü Qingyan’s sincere love always left Bai Jingxue feeling helpless. She couldn’t handle it, or rather, she couldn’t handle her own emotions.
So she gave in, allowing Lü Qingyan to get close.
But spending their lives here was impossible. This place was devoid of spiritual energy. Without it, they were just ordinary cats and dogs.
Even if this place was safe, the lifespan of a cat or dog was only a decade or two. Having experienced human lives, they couldn’t accept such a limited existence.
Bai Jingxue sighed. “You’re such a child,” she said, her voice laced with a mixture of fondness and exasperation.
It wasn’t the first time she had heard that assessment. Lü Qingyan didn’t take it as an insult. It brought back fond memories.
She batted at a patch of weeds, a butterfly fluttering out. She wanted to chase it, but she didn’t want to damage its delicate wings.
She looked up at the sun, watching as the clouds drifted across the clear blue sky.
She took a deep breath, the fresh mountain air calming her restless heart.
She was reminded of the track field, the grassy lawns, and the towering buildings of their university.
Every year, Lü Qingyan had participated in the university’s sports festival. She was naturally athletic, and she had often filled in for events that lacked participants.
Bai Jingxue, of course, had never participated. She was too weak to even do two sit-ups, and she disliked crowds.
The fact that she had accepted Lü Qingyan, a whirlwind of energy and enthusiasm, had been a miracle.
But even someone like Bai Jingxue, who preferred to stay on the sidelines, had once ventured onto the track field, settling on a grassy patch away from the crowds, her gaze fixed on a single person.
She had watched as Lü Qingyan received the baton, her speed and determination closing the gap between her and her competitors. She had watched as Lü Qingyan crossed the finish line, the crowd erupting in cheers, then as Lü Qingyan broke free from the throng of well-wishers, approaching her with a beaming smile.
“Jingxue, I won!”
The stares of those around them had made Bai Jingxue uncomfortable. She had instinctively lowered her head, then, remembering that Lü Qingyan was standing before her, she had looked up.
The sunlight was bright, illuminating Lü Qingyan, but even the sun seemed to fade in the presence of that radiant smile.
Bai Jingxue had smiled back, her voice soft. “You’re amazing.”
After the sports festival, they had walked together, Lü Qingyan excitedly recounting her performance on the track field. Youth was meant to be celebrated. Bai Jingxue, her arms full of books, had listened patiently to Lü Qingyan’s enthusiastic chatter.
“Jingxue, you wouldn’t believe it! I was so far behind, almost a whole lap! Everyone thought we were going to lose, but I caught up and won! I’m so awesome, right?”
Bai Jingxue, staring at Lü Qingyan’s eager expression, couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you a child?” she asked. “I’ve already praised you countless times.”
Lü Qingyan had grabbed Bai Jingxue’s sleeve, her voice a playful whine. “No, no, no! Praise me more!”
Lü Qingyan was taller than Bai Jingxue, so her attempt at acting cute had a rather comical effect.
Bai Jingxue, watching her rub her head against her shoulder like an oversized dog, had chuckled.
But they were surrounded by people. Bai Jingxue, always conscious of her image, coughed awkwardly, hoping to make Lü Qingyan stop. “Alright, alright,” she said. “You’re the best, Qingyan.”
Lü Qingyan, having received her desired praise, had beamed, her eyes sparkling. Then, she had pulled Bai Jingxue into a hug, her laughter echoing through the air.
“You’re the best, Jingxue!”
Bai Jingxue had nearly been crushed by the enthusiastic embrace. She had tried to push Lü Qingyan away, but when her attempts had failed, she had simply given up, sighing. “Am I your girlfriend or your mother?”
Before Lü Qingyan could answer, Bai Jingxue had continued, her voice softening. “But if I could stay a child forever, how wonderful that would be.”
“Growing up is painful, Qingyan. I hope your future is as bright as you are today. You’ll always be my little one.”
Lü Qingyan, remembering those words, rolled on the ground, her laughter echoing through the quiet forest.
Bai Jingxue, bewildered, stared at her. “What are you laughing about?” she asked.
Lü Qingyan blinked. “I was thinking about the past,” she said. “And about you.”
Bai Jingxue sighed. “I’m right here.”
Lü Qingyan shook her head. “I was thinking about the past you,” she said. “But when I think about it, neither of us have really changed.”
Bai Jingxue’s ears twitched. She heard a faint cry coming from the other side of the river. She turned and ran towards the sound.
Lü Qingyan, startled, scrambled to her feet, chasing after Bai Jingxue.
“Jingxue, wait!”
Yue Lian was crying. She had just crossed the bridge, a man slumped over her back, his hand dangling, blood dripping from his wounds.
“Grandpa, hold on!” she cried. “We’re almost home!”
She hurried past the cat and dog, her mind preoccupied with her grandfather’s injuries.
Bai Jingxue saw the man’s face, his body covered in wounds, his clothes stained crimson.
The scent of death was strong. She knew he was already gone.
“Jingxue, look!”
Lü Qingyan’s voice startled her, and she turned to see the dog standing on the bridge.
Her eyes widened. The space around them seemed to be shifting.
***
“Master, I’ve brought your new disciples.”
Luo Nianshang opened her eyes, emerging from her meditation. She smoothed her robes and opened the door.
Fu Yuan stood before her, two young women trailing behind her.
They were both rather ordinary-looking. One of them, introduced by Zhu Chi, was named Xiao Xia. The other one’s name was still unknown.
“We greet Master,” they said in unison, bowing respectfully.
Luo Nianshang nodded curtly.
The atmosphere was thick with awkward silence. Thankfully, Fu Yuan intervened.
“Do you have any further instructions, Master?” she asked. “If not, I’ll take our new Junior Sisters to familiarize themselves with the sect.”
Luo Nianshang nodded. “Go ahead.”
Fu Yuan led the two disciples away.
The Demon Lord, controlling her puppet from the Demon Palace, felt a mix of emotions. She wanted to spend more time with Luo Nianshang, but she was also pleased by the Sword Saint’s indifference towards her new disciples.
Then she remembered that the new disciples were her.
She shared their senses, their vision and hearing. She could hear Fu Yuan’s voice.
“Master might seem cold, but she’s actually quite kind,” Fu Yuan said. “Don’t be afraid of her.”
The Demon Lord, for various reasons, disliked Fu Yuan.
But she was currently playing the role of a shy, timid disciple. “Really?” she asked, her voice hesitant.
Fu Yuan turned to see the disciple who had gained entry through her disastrous cooking.
She suppressed a sigh, her voice patient. “Of course,” she said. “No master in the Ejian Sect has ever mistreated their disciples. You have nothing to worry about.”
The Demon Lord, intrigued, had her other puppet ask, “Did Master have a master? What was Master’s master like?”
It was a question few could answer. The Sword Saint herself was a living legend. Her master would have been from an even more ancient era.
But Fu Yuan was no ordinary disciple. She often volunteered at the library to earn merit points, taking advantage of the opportunity to browse the collection.
Having spent more time with her ancestor, she had developed a habit of reading anything related to Luo Nianshang.
She searched her memory, then replied, “Master did have a master, but for various reasons, there are few records of that generation.”
“But we do know her master’s name.”
The Demon Lord, her interest piqued, had her puppet ask, “What was Great Master’s name?”
Fu Yuan, staring at the two disciples who had spoken in unison, felt a shiver run down her spine.
She swallowed, ignoring the strange sensation. “Her name was Fang Yue Lian.”
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