Zanxing (Retranslated)

Chapter 162 - Mirage (2)

“Indeed, young master, what’s wrong with you?” asked the maid.

Tian Fangfang pondered for a moment, feeling like something was amiss but unable to pinpoint what it was. After a while, he shook his head. “Nothing.”

The maid went back to her tasks, and Tian Fangfang continued walking inside.

The mansion was large. He entered the hall and proceeded further into a courtyard. Choosing a direction at random, he entered a small courtyard and stepped into a room.

The room was spacious, furnished with tables, chairs, and a bed. The bedding on the bed looked soft, draped with a gauzy canopy. Incense burned on the table, surrounded by dishes of food—fried fish, roasted chicken, roast duck, and various delicacies. The fragrances wafted in the breeze, tantalizing his senses. He felt slightly intoxicated.

Tian Fangfang sat down on the edge of the bed.

The bed was indeed as soft as he had imagined, carrying a warm fragrance. Sitting on it felt like sitting on cotton. He couldn’t help but sigh softly, suddenly feeling exhausted all over. He leaned back and lay down.

From the censer, wisps of smoke rose quietly.

He fell asleep.

*

The wind stirred the fallen leaves on the ground.

In the vast blue sky, geese flew southward. The red sunset cast a beautiful glow over the autumn scenery.

A young man stood under a tree, suddenly retracting the long knife in his hand. The forceful wind from the blade scattered the fallen leaves around, and a girl’s voice sounded, “Brother Mu, take a break.”

Mu Cengxiao turned around. Yunxin walked over and took out a handkerchief, gently wiping the sweat from his forehead.

“It’s alright, Yunxin, I’m not tired,” he reassured her.

Yunxin looked at him with concern. “Now that you’ve successfully condensed your Dan, you don’t need to work so hard every day. After all, you’ve surpassed the young city lord. The whole Yuecheng is proud of you. The old city lord said he would spare no spirit stones from Yuecheng to help you become stronger.” She smiled happily. “In the future, no one will dare to bully us again.”

Mu Cengxiao stood still for a moment, speechless.

“What’s wrong, Brother Mu?” Yunxin looked at him with confusion.

Mu Cengxiao snapped out of his thoughts and shook his head. “Nothing.”

“Then let’s go back and rest. I’ve made your favorite stewed fat duck today.” She pulled Mu Cengxiao along. His gaze fell behind her. Today’s Yunxin seemed a bit different from before, but upon closer inspection, she was still the same Yunxin.

Perhaps he had been cultivating for too long. He sheathed his knife and followed Yunxin forward.

*

In the backyard, a woman was polishing the long sword in her hands.

For female cultivators, swords could either be delicate and agile, shimmering with brilliance, or sharp and imposing, exuding a sense of heroism. However, Meng Ying’s sword was different. Named “Moon Shadow,” it was anything but pure and cold. The blade was a deep black, exceptionally blunt and heavy, contrasting sharply with her slender figure.

Someone approached from behind—it was Yue Qin.

Meng Ying halted her polishing and stood up, addressing Yue Qin, “Master.”

Yue Qin smiled as she looked at her. Among all the disciples of the Taiyan Sect, this master was the strictest, rarely seen as pleased as she appeared today. Meng Ying asked, “Master, has something good happened?”

“In three days, you will ascend to the position of sect leader of the Taiyan Sect. Naturally, I am pleased,” Yue Qin replied.

“Me?” Meng Ying was surprised. “Ascend to the position of sect leader?”

“Why, could it be that your cultivation has clouded your mind?” Yue Qin looked at her strangely. “When you found the  Qing’e Flower-Picking Staff in the martial arts hall years ago and received the inheritance from Fairy Qinghua, the sect leader had already intended to pass the position to you. If it weren’t for the sect leader’s deliberate test, you wouldn’t have had to wait until today. However,” she looked at Meng Ying with pride, “you have performed well in these trials. In your daily handling of internal and external affairs of Taiyan Sect, you have shown the demeanor of a sect leader. We can finally rest assured.”

Meng Ying furrowed her brows.

Did she find the Qing’e Flower-Picking Staff? She remembered someone else had found it… Who was it again? She searched her memory carefully but couldn’t recall the name.

“Later, I will have someone bring your clothes to you. This time, when you ascend, representatives from various major sects will come to witness it. We must not make any mistakes,” Yue Qin instructed.

Meng Ying nodded. “Yes.”

She felt somewhat dazed. Since childhood, she had been known as the future sect leader of the Taiyan Sect, and she had always strived towards this goal. Yet now, as everything was about to become reality, Meng Ying inexplicably felt a sense of unreality, as if she were dreaming.

She lowered her gaze to Moon Shadow, lying quietly on the stone table, its dark blade silently watching her.

*

The valley echoed with the clear chirping of wild birds.

The birdsong carried a sense of joy. A gray mountain sparrow, unafraid of humans, flew to a branch and cocked its head to watch the person chopping firewood below.

The child stared blankly at the mountain sparrow.

After a brief stare-off, a voice came from behind, “Dongdong, what are you looking at?”

Startled, the sparrow fluttered its wings and flew away. Dongdong turned around to see a middle-aged man approaching with a basket on his back. The man was strong and effortlessly lifted him up with one hand.

Dongdong looked at him for a moment before finally speaking, “…Dad?”

The man nodded, then noticed something amiss. He looked at Dongdong again. “You seem off. Did you catch a chill?”

“I told you not to take him with you to the mountain. You should have asked Aunt Chen from next door to help look after him,” scolded a young woman with a flower-patterned scarf wrapped around her head as she walked over. She spoke softly, “It’s so cold on the mountain. Dongdong is still young. How could you let him catch a cold?”

“I thought it wouldn’t be right to trouble Aunt Chen. Besides, if he could catch a bird or something on the mountain, he would be happy,” the man replied with a hint of annoyance. Then he looked down at Dongdong in his arms. “Dongdong, you’re not mad at Dad, are you?”

Dongdong blinked his eyes. For some reason, a sudden surge of emotion welled up in his chest. He didn’t know where this bitterness came from, but it was so intense that tears immediately filled his eyes.

This frightened the young woman. She quickly reached out, took Dongdong into her arms, and comforted him, “Dongdong, what’s wrong? Why are you suddenly crying? If something doesn’t feel right, tell Mom.”

Her embrace was so warm that it melted the lingering bitterness in his heart, turning it into longing. So he reached out, hugged the woman’s arm, and buried his face in her neck.

The woman and the man exchanged glances.

“Let’s go back first,” the man said. “We’ve almost finished cutting the firewood for today, and Dongdong doesn’t seem quite well.”

The woman nodded, patting Dongdong’s back gently, and coaxed, “It’s okay, Mom will take you home.”