Chapter 76: Huaijin and Shijin

The first thing that made Mu Qiong lower her guard was her impulsive decision to ask the sword cultivator a couple of questions about the cultivation world, receiving answers that were not at all dismissive.

There was no murderous intent on the sword cultivator, nor any ill will toward her.

After hesitating for a long while, Mu Qiong finally asked, "...Why did you... look for me?"

Originally, she wanted to use the word "kidnap," but she was still afraid of provoking the other party.

Zora made no attempt to hide it: "Because you are the eye of the realm."

...What?

Mu Qiong tried hard to understand her words, processing them for a long time but truly unable to grasp the meaning: "...What is... an eye of the realm?"

Zora: "It is the eye of the secret realm."

Mu Qiong became increasingly bewildered: "...The secret realm's..."

Zora lacked any talent for being a teacher, nor did she intend to waste her breath explaining in detail that this was an illusion. Her sole focus was on making this "eye" fulfill its wish, thereby satisfying its heart to break the illusion.

An illusion centered on a person usually revolved around their desires; from what she could see, Mu Qiong's desire was naturally to successfully enter the "December Sect."

Mu Qiong was still pondering, her mind feeling as if it were covered by a layer of gauze, unable to understand Zora's meaning no matter how she tried.

Unable to cultivate on her own or practice her sword, and forced to stay here, Zora had finished all the osmanthus cakes on her person. With Vane absent, she suddenly lacked any entertainment.

So boring.

In the past, she could kill time by staring blankly into space, but now she actually perceived a slight sense of boredom.

Zora urged her: "Are you going to leave yet?"

"..." Mu Qiong hadn't yet figured out her words before hearing this abrupt inquiry. She asked, "Go where?"

"To the December Sect."

...

Setting aside how Mu Qiong’s heart churned internally, she ultimately set out on her original route.

She didn't understand why this cultivator insisted on following her to the December Sect, but she had no power to refuse.

When they stepped out of the house and passed through the courtyard in a daze, Mu Qiong tardily remembered that the kind old woman had died under Zora's sword.

Why had she forgotten this just now? Why couldn't she summon any hatred or loathing?

This cultivator had killed that granny! The granny died because she helped her; she ought to feel guilt and anger, yet now...

Mu Qiong pressed her hand to her chest, startled by her own "heartlessness."

—She was clearly not that kind of person.

Regardless, she forced herself to replay the scene of the granny's death over and over, forcing herself to be sad, reminding herself of the cultivator's cruelty.

Zora paid no mind to the vigilance rising secretly within Mu Qiong.

Just in case, it’s better to let her walk on her own,

Zora thought.

As Mu Qiong didn't speak, Zora naturally didn't strike up a conversation either. They truly walked out of the city in total silence.

During this time, many people wanted to help Mu Qiong, but before Zora could expressionlessly draw her sword, Mu Qiong hurriedly rejected them.

They crossed a river and a mountain.

Just one river and one mountain took Mu Qiong an entire hour to traverse.

Zora, near her, occasionally picked a fruit out of curiosity, but a single bite tasted like chewing wax.

The constitution of a mortal and that of a cultivator were worlds apart. Mu Qiong gasped for air every three steps, sitting down to rest after walking a short distance.

She felt a burning sensation inside her chest, her heart and lungs aching with every breath.

As long as she didn't speak or show obvious adverse reactions—like dropping dead on the spot or fainting—Zora wouldn't notice anything, and even if she did, she wouldn't care.

When they finally reached the "December Sect," Mu Qiong was overjoyed. She first cast a cautious glance at Zora.

Zora, meanwhile, was looking at this "palace-like" sect.

There seemed to be no intention of stopping her.

Mu Qiong took a tentative step; the cultivator indeed showed no reaction.

She still didn't know why the cultivator insisted on escorting her. Perhaps it was a whim during the cultivator's long life; hadn't storytellers mentioned such things?

A medicine cultivator might save someone in passing during their journey, but it was their pastime, not their duty.

Perhaps this was a hopeful guess; perhaps this sword cultivator would strike her down as she crossed the bridge, but regardless, regardless...

Zora watched the woman walk across the white bridge.

Her thin figure appeared so fragile on the white bridge, as if she would break at a touch, yet her steps were exceptionally firm.

At the end of the white bridge, the woman suddenly halted.

Has she recovered her memory?

Zora walked over. The woman lowered her head, her profile hidden by her black hair.

Zora leaned in close, bending down to peer at her face.

Mu Qiong was reeling from the flood of memories. The memory of death was too painful, and the realization that the kind-looking people in the city were the culprits who killed her made her want to vomit at the thought that she had just felt gratitude toward them.

Suddenly, a girl appeared in her field of vision, bending down to observe her. Even though she bowed her head and tears spilled from her eyes, this girl insisted on looking at her without any reservation—a childishly innocent gesture.

Mu Qiong's emotions were interrupted. She looked up, and Zora straightened her back.

"...Immortal, is the Immortal here to help me? To help me escape this nightmare?" Mu Qiong asked blankly, tears sliding down her cheeks as she stared stubbornly.

Zora did not lie: "Not exactly. I want to leave the illusion, so you must fulfill your wish."

Mu Qiong was stunned, and Zora urged her further: "Hurry up and go, enter the sect."

"...Alright." Mu Qiong answered instinctively, then laughed at herself once she realized. She didn't back out, looking up at the magnificent palace.

Was the December Sect like this?

She didn't know; she had never known.

Even if she had heard stories, it was only through the tales she picked up while wandering after running away from home. From childhood to adulthood, what she learned was never this.

Even the concept of "cultivators" was something Mu Qiong had only heard of this past year.

"Cultivators... what is the cultivation world like?" Mu Qiong murmured.

Zora thought for a moment: "Cultivating, doing missions, and more cultivating."

"Sounds rather dull and tedious."

Zora didn't speak, watching her quietly. The smile on Mu Qiong's face gradually faded.

She looked down at the floor with some hesitation, then turned back toward the palace.

"...But if one has the talent for cultivation, does one gain freedom?"

"No," Zora shook her head, stating calmly, "Only powerful cultivators have freedom. Those who aren't powerful can only be beaten."

"Ah, hahah, true enough." Her voice gradually lowered. She seemed to be hesitating, finally speaking with uncertainty, "Before entering the sect, may I ask the Immortal's name?"

"Zora."

"I am Mu Qiong," she paused, then said softly, "Zhou Mu Qiong. Immortal, if I am in a dream after death, may I ask about a person?"

"...In the December Sect, is there a cultivator named Zhou Huaijin?"

"I don't know," Zora gave her a "are you an idiot" look, emphasizing, "The sect has many people, and I cannot possibly know them all."

"True..."

Mu Qiong still didn't head toward the sect; she had a heart full of words to say, a belly full of thoughts needing an ear.

She spoke intermittently about her experiences coming to Tao County, reminding Zora to be careful.

Zora: "You have been dead for hundreds of years. The people who killed you are all dead too."

"Hundreds of years... so it has been that long."

Mu Qiong delayed no longer. Hearing the phrase "hundreds of years," she felt a wave of trance-like realization and walked slowly toward the palace.

Zora stared at her. The moment she entered the palace, the scene shifted.

She was back at the very beginning.

...

Before her time and memory reset, Mu Qiong briefly recalled her life.

She was originally the daughter of a poor family. It wasn't until her mother passed away and her father married her stepmother that their family learned they had a wealthy relative.

Though it was a distant relation of a distant relation, her father and stepmother didn't care. They rushed to seek refuge, fearing that if they were a step too slow, the money would be gone.

The main Zhou residence was indeed magnificent, dazzling one's eyes.

They didn't mind supporting a poor relative, but they wouldn't give much. It was through her father and stepmother's thick-skinned flattery that they obtained the crumbs falling from their fingers.

She didn't understand why they had to come here. Although they were poor before, they could at least get by. Living here under someone else's thumb, begging for money instead of relying on themselves, made them inherently inferior. Everyone in the residence looked down on her father, yet he continued to stay with a fawning smile. In their small family, the man's temper grew even worse, as if he needed to vent the frustration he received, often beating and scolding her and the stepmother.

She was powerless to resist, but the stepmother was different. She was also trying to curry favor with a person of some status. Whenever the father beat or scolded her, she would yell back. The two would scrap in the courtyard, yet once they stepped out, they were a close and loving couple again.

However, here Mu Qiong wore fine cotton clothes, could eat her fill at every meal, and had servants and maids attending to her.

Perhaps there was nothing wrong with it. Mu Qiong thought.

Until one day in the residence's garden, Mu Qiong spotted a woman.

A very beautiful woman.

It was just that her expression was far too free-spirited, not quite fitting the Zhou residence's strict atmosphere of hierarchy.

She instinctively hid. As a distant relative living as a dependent, she didn't want to encounter the legitimate daughter of the Zhou family, lest she be bullied or kicked out after a conflict.

That woman clearly held high status; even the maids beside her were dressed ten thousand times better than Mu Qiong.

"Miss, stop being so willful. Master will be angry," the maid said urgently. "Hurry back, they are waiting for you."

The woman said casually, "I know."

They left. Mu Qiong returned to her quarters and only learned the next day that the person was likely the legitimate daughter of the Zhou family, Zhou Huaijin.

Yesterday they were discussing her marriage, but heard it didn't go smoothly. That Miss Zhou was exceptionally willful, refusing flatly as soon as they met.

The command of parents and the words of a matchmaker—what right did she have to object?

"Sigh, that’s just how it is for legitimate daughters. He’s a Prince; many women want to marry into that house. Only she thinks she's still the grandest daughter in the world, not knowing her place."

A low-status concubine's daughter let out a sigh.

In the Zhou residence, Mu Qiong could only interact with women of her own status, and she often heard the same talk. Even the incompetent illegitimate sons mocked Zhou Huaijin's stupidity.

Those illegitimate sons couldn't obtain such wealth, yet she actually rejected it.

Mu Qiong didn't speak, thinking silently.

...Ultimately, it's just that your abilities aren't enough to support the family business. There are stories in the neighboring residence of illegitimate sons inheriting the business.

When she met Zhou Huaijin again, it was a long time later.

She heard that Zhou Huaijin had been under house arrest for a long time. As the wedding date approached, she caused a massive scene.

The Zhou residence was in total chaos that day. The eldest miss was hacking people with a sword. Everyone knew she was studying the sword, but they all thought she was just learning the basics for amusement; after all, the teacher hired was just a third-rate hack!

For a time, Zhou Huaijin actually held the guards at a stalemate.

Mu Qiong was dragged along to watch the commotion, stopping far away at the perimeter. As soon as she paused, she heard that woman's cheerful and joyful voice.

She was actually still happy.

"Presumptuous! From whom did you secretly learn these sword techniques!" the Master shouted in rage, his voice like a great bell.

"From that teacher who can't even hold a sword steady. Doesn't this prove I'm a genius?" Zhou Huaijin showed none of the humility praised by the world. She spoke with a smile on her lips, blood still dripping from the blade.

The Master was furious. He muttered a few words, then hardened his face, regaining the calm of a family head: "Stop making a scene. The wedding date is near. If you cause trouble, I will expel you from the Zhou residence."

Zhou Huaijin didn't care. She stroked her sword over and over.

This was the taste of using a sword to kill.

The Master spoke in a heavy tone, offering a carrot: "What exactly do you want? Whether you are satisfied with the marriage or not is out of your hands, but you can still visit home after marrying over. I won't let him bully a daughter of our Zhou family."

Hearing this, Zhou Huaijin looked up and laughed, "I want to become an immortal."

"What...?"

In Mu Qiong's eyes, she was like a fiercely burning flame. Pour a cup of wine over it, and it suddenly boiled.

Zhou Huaijin smiled: "Don't you understand?"

—"I want to become an immortal. I want to climb that heavenly ladder and cultivate into an immortal."