Chapter 97: World Three【11】 Part 2

Peace Offering City was considered a remote part of the Jiangnan region. Once they left the bustling town behind, the further out they traveled, the more desolate the scenery became. Occasionally, they could spot woodcutters trudging back to their villages with bundles of firewood on their backs. For the villagers living outside the city, they couldn’t afford good heating tools. To survive the winter, they had to stockpile enough firewood and make some low-grade Charcoal themselves to endure a winter where snow began falling on the very first day of La Yue.

But there was also the saying that a timely snow promises a bountiful harvest. So, this heavy snow wasn’t necessarily a bad thing for the farming-dependent villagers.

The carriage halted near a Plum Blossom Forest. If one lifted the window curtain just a crack, they could see quite a few young noblemen in cloaks already inside the forest, brewing tea and savoring it, seemingly holding some kind of poetry gathering.

Luo Yuezhu showed little interest in such things. She simply turned to her Master, seeking her opinion.

“A poetry gathering?” Jing Ke glanced through the window. “I’m skilled with a sword, not poetry. Yuezhu, are you interested in composing poetry and matching couplets?”

Luo Yuezhu immediately shook her head. “No, I don’t like it. I’ve never liked poetry, nor embroidery or any other needlework.”

“Then let’s go further back, find somewhere with fewer people so we can simply enjoy the snow,” Jing Ke said. “Some peace and quiet would be nice.”

“Yes, Master. I know a place with few people,” Luo Yuezhu said, then lifted the carriage curtain and briefly instructed the Servant Boy.

After about half a quarter shichen, the carriage stopped near a rocky cliff face.

Carrying a box of packed pastries, Luo Yuezhu was the first to jump down from the carriage. She then turned back to look at her Master. “Master, there’s a spot in the cliff you can pass through. Hardly anyone knows about it.”

“Alright,” Jing Ke replied with a smile, unable to resist gently pinching the two little round buns her disciple’s hair was tied into.

“Master, this way.” Accustomed to being patted on the head by her Master, the slight hair pinch elicited no reaction from Luo Yuezhu at all.

“Mm.” Letting go, Jing Ke followed half a step behind her little disciple.

Following her disciple along the cliff face for about two hundred meters, a crevice roughly one meter wide revealed itself. Luo Yuezhu first peeked inside to ensure no one was there. Then, brushing aside some nearby weeds, she sidled through sideways.

A one-meter-wide crevice was actually quite spacious. Given Luo Yuezhu’s stature, she could have walked straight through. But she was wearing relatively light-colored clothes today. Walking straight through risked her sleeves and the hem of her skirt brushing against the stone walls and getting dirty.

The crevice was about three meters long, with a sharp-angled turn in the middle, creating some visual illusions. Unless one crouched down and peered carefully, the hidden world within the stone wall was generally impossible to discover.

“Master, sit.” Emerging first, Luo Yuezhu quickly brushed the accumulated snow off a stone stool. Calling it a ‘stool’ wasn’t entirely accurate; it was just a relatively flat rock that hadn’t been further refined.

“Is this your Little Peach Blossom Spring you found before?” Jing Ke asked, surveying their surroundings as she looked around.

Coming through the crevice didn’t expand the field of view much. Stone walls enclosed them on all four sides, and the open space was only about two hundred square meters. There weren’t many plum blossom trees inside either—only thirteen in total, one of which was noticeably small and slender.

“Mm, I found it when I was six. I came here with my… my older sister. This little tree, my sister and I planted together,” Luo Yuezhu said, a touch of melancholy creeping into her voice.

But Luo Yuezhu quickly adjusted her mood. She reached out and tugged at her Master’s sleeve. “Master, can you help me record my height?”

“Of course. How should I record it—by carving a line on the stone wall?” Jing Ke asked.

Luo Yuezhu nodded and swiftly found the traces left from previous years in the familiar spot. Every year since she was six, when they visited the Plum Blossom Forest to admire the snow, Luo Yuezhu would have her older sister mark her height on the stone wall.

Just as Luo Yuezhu was about to find a sharp stone for her Master to scratch with, her movement was intercepted.

Jing Ke gently squeezed her little disciple’s cold cheek. “Have you forgotten that your Master here is a martial arts expert? I can use my Inner Strength to leave a mark on the stone wall. No need for a rock.”

“Master is amazing!” Luo Yuezhu offered sincere praise, then stood at the usual spot from previous years, waiting for her Master to leave a new mark on the stone wall.

Six years old, seven, eight, nine… and now, ten years old.

Looking at the five extremely clear and distinct marks carved into the rock, Luo Yuezhu’s nose suddenly stung. Even as she struggled fiercely to control her emotions, tears rolled down like pearls, dripping continuously from her eyes.

Seeing this, Jing Ke didn’t say much. Only when her little disciple was about to wipe the tears away with the back of her hand did Jing Ke produce a soft, fine handkerchief and press it into her hand.

Luo Yuezhu sniffled. “Master, I… I…”

“What’s wrong?” Jing Ke asked patiently.

“Can I… give Master a hug?” Luo Yuezhu asked.

Jing Ke didn’t answer verbally, but quickly crouched down slightly, making herself seem even a tiny bit shorter than her little disciple. This posture was perfectly suited for an embrace. Luo Yuezhu didn’t even need to stand on tiptoe; she could wrap her arms around her Master’s body, even bury her head temporarily against her Master’s shoulder, allowing herself to fully and unguardedly reveal her vulnerable side.

Jing Ke gently patted her little disciple’s back. “If you need anything, you can tell me. Whatever your Master can do, I will help you achieve.”

Jing Ke had no so-called relatives. She didn’t understand what losing family meant.

But Jing Ke had loved someone before. More than once, she had watched helplessly as her beloved’s vitality slowly slipped away, feeling the body in her arms grow cold and stiff over time.

“Master… will you… will you abandon me? After three years… will you leave me?” Perhaps because she was once again reminded of relatives who had left her forever, Luo Yuezhu voiced the fear that plagued her for the first time.

“Of course not. I became your Master, so I am your Master for a lifetime,” Jing Ke said, gently stroking her disciple’s back to soothe her emotions.

“And you—you are my disciple now, and will be my disciple forever. Our Sect’s legacy will rely on you from now on. You are our Sect’s one and only 23rd Generation Disciple,” Jing Ke added.

Luo Yuezhu sniffled, her attention gradually drawn by her Master’s words.

“Master, I’m the only 23rd Generation Disciple? What about my other Martial Uncles in the Sect—Shishu and Shibo? Didn’t they take any disciples?” Luo Yuezhu asked.

Jing Ke shook her head. “I am the sole 22nd Generation Disciple. And I have only you as my disciple. Naturally, you are the only 23rd Generation Disciple.”

“Master, you have no Senior or Junior Sisters?” Luo Yuezhu asked. “Then… when Master was learning martial arts, were you all alone?”

“There was my Master. But my Master also seemed to be a single-line successor. Not wanting the Sect’s lineage to end with her, she took me as her disciple before I could even speak.”

Jing Ke said, sifting through her memories. Similar to the previous two worlds, she had been truly born and had existed in this one. But she currently had no living relatives left. The so-called father she had never met, the mother who transferred all her Inner Strength to Jing Ke when she was six before taking her own life, and the Master—who was also her grand-aunt—who raised her until she was eighteen before following her mother’s path… none of them remained in the mortal world.

Perhaps because there was nothing left in this world they cherished, or perhaps their fated lifespan had simply run its course, the World Consciousness conveniently gave the Heavenly Derivation Sect a helping hand, making her the so-called 22nd Generation Inheritor.

Luo Yuezhu nodded somewhat dazedly. This was the first time her Master had shared anything about her own past with her.

“Are you feeling a bit hungry? Want to try some of the pastries you brought?” Jing Ke asked. She didn’t want to delve too deeply into her own secret-ridden sect and quickly changed the subject.

“A little. Master, have some pastries too,” Luo Yuezhu said. Her eyes and small nose were still red, but the little pearl-like tears had stopped falling.

“Alright.” Jing Ke gently used her fingertips to wipe the remaining tear stains from her little disciple’s face. “Let your Master here taste the pastries you chose. If they’re good, I’ll follow your lead and buy them next time too.”

Sweet. The flavor was very sweet. But it wasn’t a cloying sweetness. It was a sweetness carrying a delicate, refreshing fragrance, leaving a pleasant aftertaste upon swallowing.

Without all sorts of modern technology, these pastry recipes passed down through generations were quite impressive. The shapes were exquisite, and each pastry had a slightly different flavor profile. Being bite-sized, there was no worry about getting tired of them.

Pastries were brought, so naturally, water was too. However, what Jing Ke brought wasn’t boiled hot water. Her Waterskin contained wine she’d bought while out wandering. The alcohol content wasn’t high; its merit lay in its good taste—clean and crisp with a pleasant aftertaste—pairing wonderfully with her little disciple’s selection of pastries.

After eating a bit, Jing Ke emptied her mind and stared at the plum blossom trees for a while, somewhat bored, she counted the number of trees twice. On the third count, Jing Ke couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.

If the slightly dwarfed plum tree were removed, the positioning of the other twelve trees didn’t seem randomly planted. There seemed to be a Formation contained within, not large or small, and what’s more, it was a Formation that felt somewhat familiar to Jing Ke.