Chapter 29: A Mother’s Resolve and a Daughter’s Courage

While their household’s wealth was still far from abundant, it was merely a shift in perspective that made all the difference.

‘A different mindset, indeed…’

Though the tangible circumstances hadn’t significantly changed, she found herself serenely enjoying the moonlit night. Just days prior, she would likely have been hunched over a desk, diligently embroidering.

“What are you thinking about, Mama?”

“Nothing important, really.”

Qíngyǔ playfully flicked her Little Girl’s forehead, a smile gracing her lips.

‘It’s nothing important, merely how best to raise you.’

Leaving aside mundane wealth for the moment, the spiritual resources, companions, and suitable locations required to embark on the path of cultivation would demand considerable effort from her to secure.

In her past life, her own master had similarly fretted over each of his disciples, pondering their futures with endless care.

While he outwardly preached letting nature take its course, she knew not how many perilous lands that old man had ventured into, nor how many beneficial connections he had forged, all to eventually send their entire sect of over a dozen members on their respective paths.

This world, too, was far from peaceful. For a small town situated in the desolate, bitter cold of the Northern Ridge to encounter demonic entities twice in quick succession suggested a pressing need to enhance their self-preservation capabilities.

She wondered just how long she could maintain her current abilities without revealing their true limitations.

A sigh escaped Qíngyǔ’s lips as she considered this, her hand tracing the rough cotton cloth on the table.

She had long contemplated the design for this item, initially intending to infuse it with spiritual materials from heaven and earth to imbue it with the properties of a magical artifact.

Now, however, she realized such ambitions were far too grand for their current reality.

“Mama, look! What’s that?”

Just as Qíngyǔ was lost in thought, her Little Girl suddenly pointed skyward. Following the child’s gaze, Qíngyǔ saw the moonlight abruptly dim slightly, and a fleeting golden light streaked across the heavens.

‘No, that wasn’t golden light.’

A sudden realization dawned on Qíngyǔ. She extended her hand, conjuring a faint, ethereal glow that enveloped their small courtyard, effectively concealing it just before a probing divine sense could sweep over them.

“It’s nothing at all. Just wash your feet.”

Unaccustomed to such a serious tone from her mother, the Little Girl instinctively recoiled, her tiny feet splashing rhythmically in the water, nearly sloshing it out of the basin.

Once her Little Girl had settled, Qíngyǔ’s gaze returned to the spot where the golden light had vanished, a rare ripple of unease stirring within her heart.

‘A celestial being? But why now?’

She had previously assumed that the significant disparity in the moon’s essence was simply due to fundamental differences between this world and her own, a case of ‘similar but not quite.’

She had never imagined, however, that someone was deliberately siphoning off a portion of its power.

While the cultivation path she had followed in her past life was somewhat unfettered, it was not without its conflicts and life-or-death struggles.

Yet, she had never witnessed anything akin to this—a blatant attempt to sever another’s opportunity to attain the Dao.

‘Then what of the idea she had just entertained on their journey?’

With this thought, Qíngyǔ swiftly extended her hand, circulating her qi. A hazy mist swirled around her slender, jade-like fingers as she made a subtle grasping motion towards the moon’s ethereal image.

It was like trying to scoop the moon from a fog (TL Note: A Chinese idiom, ‘wù zhōng lāo yuè,’ meaning to attempt the impossible or to chase an illusion), only faint threads of its essence remotely manifested.

In her grasp, a significant portion of the moon’s essence was conspicuously absent, seemingly for no reason at all.

The moon’s image was indeed incomplete, and this wasn’t due to seasonal changes. It was simply that someone had intentionally obstructed more than half of its radiant essence.

Waving her hand, she dispersed the lingering image. Just as a clever cook cannot prepare a meal without rice (TL Note: A Chinese idiom, ‘qiǎo fù nán wéi wú mǐ zhī chuī,’ meaning even the most capable person cannot achieve something without the necessary resources), even Qíngyǔ found herself unable to discern the true nature of things when the fundamental essence was incomplete.

“Mama, don’t frown! It makes you look so ugly!”

Seeing Qíngyǔ’s troubled expression, her Little Girl pouted in protest, then, rocking on her stone stool, dragged the wooden basin closer to her mother.

“What, you don’t like me when I look ‘ugly’?”

The Little Girl’s words had largely interrupted Qíngyǔ’s train of thought. Both exasperated and amused, she reached out, clenched her fist, and playfully rubbed her daughter’s head until the child pleaded for mercy.

“I don’t like it! Mama, if something’s wrong, just tell me!”

The Little Girl’s lips trembled pitifully, her small face etched with an aggrieved expression.

‘This child is worried about me.’

Feigning seriousness, Qíngyǔ flicked her forehead once more, eliciting a soft, adorable cry of “Ow!”

“Little children shouldn’t try to act like adults.”

“Mama, you’re not that old either!”

‘This little rascal…’

At this moment, Qíngyǔ found herself at a loss. She had always disliked contemplating matters of struggle and contention; the mere thought of strategizing felt utterly exhausting.

After a long moment of contemplation, she took her Little Girl’s hand and, only then, truly noticed how beautiful the child’s hands were—slender fingers, skin as smooth as creamy jade.

“Little Girl, I have a question for you.”

“What is it?”

“What do you think about cultivating the Dao?”

The Little Girl seemed surprised by the question, staring blankly at her mother for a moment before finally speaking again.

“Does Little Mom not want me to cultivate the Dao?”

“No, nothing of the sort. It’s just that this path will be incredibly arduous, and I…”

Qíngyǔ paused, then, remembering she was speaking to a child not yet ten years old, couldn’t help but let out a small, self-deprecating laugh.

In her later years in her previous life, many of her disciples had often remarked on her excessive rambling. Back then, she would have bristled and vehemently denied it, but now, she could discern a hint of truth in their observations.

“So what if it’s difficult!” the Little Girl declared loudly, pointing a finger skyward. “If others can cultivate, why can’t we?”

Qíngyǔ couldn’t fathom where this little one found such courage, as she suddenly stood up in the basin, looking intently into her mother’s face.

“If Mama can’t cultivate then, I’ll just help you!”

“There’s no need for that.”

“Then why are you looking so worried, Mama?”

“I just don’t want you to suffer.”

“And I don’t want to ever have to leave you, Mama.”

The Little Girl was utterly serious, as if making a monumental vow.

Having heard her speak to this extent, Qíngyǔ knew then that she absolutely had to contend for this path, for her Little Girl’s sake.

“I told you, little children shouldn’t try to act like adults. Now, wash your feet properly.”

Qíngyǔ feigned a stern gaze at her Little Girl until the child scurried back onto her stone stool, only then did Qíngyǔ finally let out a long breath.

That familiar sense of an uncertain path ahead had returned.

Yet, at this very moment, her heart, long dormant, began to thrum with a forgotten vibrancy, as if an imperative task awaited her just beyond the horizon.

It had been a long time since she had felt such an overwhelming surge of intuition.

Qíngyǔ shook her head. Such feelings, when they arose at the cusp of a decision, often signaled impending crisis, yet they also invariably hinted at a glimmer of hope amidst the potential danger.

This time, however, differed slightly from her past life. Back then, she had been unable to discern her true path, merely cultivating in circles (TL Note: A Chinese idiom, ‘yuán dì dǎ zhuàn,’ meaning to make no progress or to spin one’s wheels).

Now, her task was to contend for a sliver of opportunity to attain the Dao, though the perils of this new journey remained entirely unknown.

Her own cultivation path diverged from this world’s. Judging solely by Zì Bùxiàn’s display, her methods were either completely unheard of in this realm or belonged to a level of profoundness accessible only to the most advanced.

In her previous life, there had been no alternative; the spiritual energy of heaven and earth was simply too barren, forcing cultivators to devise myriad methods to refine spirits and cultivate.

In this world, however, it seemed someone was deliberately obstructing others from attaining the Dao, intent on artificially creating an “Age of Dharma Decline.”

In short, though the path to the Dao was fraught with difficulty, she was fortunate to possess the necessary techniques within herself.

Regardless of her own prospects, her Little Girl’s innate talent was exceptional in any realm, and such a precious gift could not be easily squandered.

[Tsk, those people arrived so quickly.]

[What people?]

[A group of… well, I suppose I should say a few old relics who don’t know their place.]

[Explain yourself more clearly.]

The Immortal Sword, uncharacteristically, refused the Little Girl’s request.

[From now on, every full moon night, you must redouble your efforts to absorb the moon’s essence.]

[Why?]

[I cannot say now; you will understand later.]

[Why are you being so cryptic?]

[If I were to tell you these things now, it would only cloud your mother’s judgment.]

The Immortal Sword cast a distant glance at Qíngyǔ, an unreadable swirl of emotions stirring within its essence.

On one hand, it sensed that Qíngyǔ’s excessive worry might hinder her success; on the other, it couldn’t fully comprehend her, knowing only that her capabilities were immense.

[Then don’t say anything.]

[Perhaps you two truly can succeed, after all.]

[Of course we can!]

With not even a hint of cultivation resources available, how long could one possibly cultivate by merely absorbing spiritual energy and partaking of meager leftovers on full moon nights?

Indeed, it might have been better if they had followed Zì Bùxiàn to Zìmíng Shān at the time. Yet now, even the Immortal Sword itself had no desire to leave.

The path ahead remained unknown.

The Immortal Sword sighed, looking at the confident Little Girl, and decided against saying anything further, retreating into her sea of consciousness to rest.