Song Ciwan stopped at a quiet corner, looking at the house ahead.
Why did she stop not far from this particular house?
Because at this very moment, someone was kneeling before its door.
This person was none other than Aunt Zhou. She held three sticks of incense, kowtowing to the heavens with a piety so intense it was almost frightening.
Her hair was streaked with white and her body was rail-thin. In the gloom of the night, her eyes burned as brightly as two clusters of fire.
With each offering of incense, she kowtowed, her forehead striking the ground with a crisp THUD. Her brow was already a bloody mess, but she paid it no mind, simply chanting endlessly, "Merciful Bodhisattvas, Grandmaster Celestial Emperor, Earth God, City God, all you Immortals... I beg you, please save my daughter!"
"Sheâs only fifteen! Sheâs so young. She came into this world with me and has never known a day of comfort. She canât be gone just like this!"
"If this is a trial she is fated to endure, then let this humble woman take her place! She is a good child, a child who has suffered so much. It is I who failed to raise her well. Oh, Celestial Lord, if you must punish someone, punish me!"
"This faithful devotee is willing to cut her own flesh and offer everything... Please, I beg of you, whichever Immortal is listening, please save my daughter..."
THUD! THUD! THUD!
She pleaded as she kowtowed relentlessly. The small patch of ground before her was already stained dark red with her blood. When the night wind blew, her body trembled uncontrollably. Was it from the cold, from hunger, from her injuries, or from the pain?
From a short distance away, Song Ciwan could sense that her aura had grown incredibly faint.
She was like a candle in the wind, in danger of being extinguished at any moment.
And yet, though she was already just skin and bones, seemingly on the verge of collapse, she miraculously held on.
Unfortunately, despite her efforts, not a single one of the countless Immortals and Buddhas in the heavens spared her a glance.
This world would acknowledge the Talent generated by someone like Wang Yi, but it would not bestow Spiritual Light upon this ordinary woman struggling in the mud.
âWhat, then, is the true Dao of heaven and earth?â
âCould those legendary Immortals and Buddhas even hear the prayer of a single, tiny Human at this very moment?â
Song Ciwan thought to herself, âProbably not.â
âThere is too much suffering in the world; the Immortals canât watch over everyone. In the end, a person must rely on themselves.â
No one could be responsible for anotherâs life, but she could offer a helping hand in her time of need, light a lamp in a dark room.
A gust of night wind swept by. As Aunt Zhou bowed down to kowtow once more, she suddenly sensed something. She snapped her head up and saw a shadow swirling toward her like a misty haze.
âWhat is it?â
âIs it a human, a ghost, a god, an Immortal?â
Aunt Zhou almost cried out in alarm. Her mouth fell open, an "Ah!" stuck in her throat.
The swirling shadow swept around her, and a small porcelain vial landed in her hand.
At the same time, a cool, androgynous voice sounded in her ear, "I am the Qingfeng Divine Envoy, serving under the most just and impartial Nameless Divine Venerable. In consideration of your suffering, I hereby bestow upon you a Spirit Medicine that can cure the injuries and illnesses of this world..."
The words, ethereal and indistinct, lingered in Aunt Zhouâs ear before abruptly fading away.
Before Aunt Zhou could even cry out, the dark figure had dissipated with the wind, vanishing without a trace.
Aunt Zhouâs lips trembled with excitement, and at last, the "Ah!" escaped her lips as a cry.
But that very cry startled the person inside the house behind her.
The door creaked open, and a young head peeked out.
This was Aunt Zhouâs daughter-in-law from the Tang family. While Aunt Zhou was outside kowtowing and praying, her daughter-in-law was in the house with her young son and husband, though she wasnât actually asleep.
How could she possibly sleep? The family had just suffered such a disaster.
Aunt Zhouâs crying and pleading outside, one plea after another, was enough to make anyoneâs heart race with anxiety.
And so, the daughter-in-law, who had been listening intently to the sounds outside, let her eyes dart over and fall upon Aunt Zhouâs hands.
Clutched in her hand was a delicate white porcelain vial. Under the dim starlight of the winter night, it seemed to emanate an extraordinary aura.
The woman knew that this vial was definitely not something their family owned.
She couldnât help but ask in a hushed, astonished voice, "Mother! What is that in your hand? Where did you get it?"
Aunt Zhou subconsciously tried to hide the vial, but her daughter-in-law, like a cat that had caught the scent of fish, lunged forward with surprising agility.
She moved too fast. Aunt Zhou was weak and her legs were stiff; it was clear she wouldnât be able to dodge.
Panic seized her. She curled her body up like a shrimp, protecting the vial in her arms, and hissed, "Have you gone mad? Do you want to make a scene and attract more people to come and humiliate us?"
Her daughter-in-lawâs grabbing motion paused for a second. Aunt Zhou seized the opportunity to push the vialâs stopper off with her thumb. POP! The small wooden cork flew to the side.
Her daughter-in-law subconsciously glanced at it, and Aunt Zhou quickly shoved her away. Then, tilting her head back, she poured the small amount of liquid from the vial into her mouth.
The liquid had a faint metallic tang. The moment it entered her stomach, a warm current ignited, rushing through Aunt Zhouâs entire body. The spot on her leg where the rat had bitten her, in particular, received a concentrated dose of this warmth.
In the space of a few breaths, the once exhausted and weak Aunt Zhou felt as if she had been infused with Jadescent Nectar. She instantly straightened up, looked at her hands, moved her legs, her face a mask of joyous shock.
Standing opposite her, her daughter-in-law was equally stunned. Her eyes widened as she said, "Mother, what did you just take?"
Aunt Zhou, still dazed with shock, replied, "It was... a Spirit Medicine from the Divine Envoy..."
She spoke the last few words in a whisper, but her daughter-in-law still heard them.
Her expression changed in an instant. First came realization. "Spirit Medicine? The kind of Spirit Medicine that can cure any illness?"
Then came shocked anger. "Mother, an Immortal gave you Spirit Medicine, and you drank it all in one gulp? Celestial Lord! What kind of mother and grandmother does that? Da Lang is still injured and canât get out of bed! BaoâEr is sick with fright! And when an Immortal gives you Spirit Medicine, you just drink it all..."
Seeing her slap her thigh, about to break into a wailing fit and cause who knows what kind of commotion in the middle of the night, the dazed Aunt Zhou snapped back to her senses. A thousand thoughts raced through her mind, but sometimes, a decision truly only takes an instant.
Aunt Zhouâs gaze was deep and bright, but her tone was perfectly calm. "Lady Li, youâre right. I am a mother, and you are a mother. Itâs not wrong for you, as a mother, to care for your child and worry about your husband."
She continued, "But I also worry about my child. Da Lang has you to care for him, and BaoâEr has you and Da Lang to look after him. But my Lady Yin... she only has me."
She then asked her daughter-in-law, "If I had given the Spirit Medicine to Da Lang, would you have let him go out to find his sister?"
The womanâs eyes darted away. Aunt Zhou smiled. "You see? You wouldnât allow it. To be honest, I couldnât bear it either. The journey is too difficult, far too difficult. I wouldnât want Da Lang to suffer so much for his sister. So, it can only be me. Only if I get better can I go find my child..."
"Lady Li, I know youâre not a bad person. Youâre usually petty, but thatâs just because of our poverty. You do it for Da Lang, for BaoâEr. I donât blame you. I only ask that you donât blame me either..."
Standing straight and tall, Aunt Zhou turned her head and looked toward the dilapidated house next to them.
There were no lamps lit in the broken-down house. It was pitch-black, yet a faint silhouette seemed to be framed in the window. Through the torn window paper, his gaze met his motherâs in the dark of night.
They seemed so close, and yet so far.
Aunt Zhou said, "Lady Li, Iâm leaving. Whether I find your sister on this journey or not, I will not be coming back. Just consider this old woman already dead."
With that, she turned and left without hesitation.
Her steps were swift in the night. Tang Liniang, standing at the doorway, opened her mouth several times, but no words came out.
Just like that, Aunt Zhou quickly vanished into the darkness. She didnât actually know where she was going, but the faint sound of muffled sobs from the house behind her only made her steps quicken.
No matter where she was going, she had to go.
No one noticed that in the cold night, a gentle breeze followed behind her.
[Human desires: love, sorrow, fear. Six catties and nine taels. Exchangeable.]
The Heaven and Earth Scale manifested in a crack in the void of space-time. A mass of qi, the color of blue-green jade, rested on one of the Balance Plates.
This was from Aunt Zhouâs seven emotions and six desires, a full six catties and nine taels!
But that wasnât all. Aunt Zhouâs emotions were so turbulent that the Heaven and Earth Scale managed to collect qi from her twice in a row.
The second time: [Human desires: joy, sorrow, fear, parting from loved ones. Three catties and eight taels. Exchangeable.]
For Song Ciwan, this was a case of "the roseâs fragrance clings to the hand that gives it."
Her reward was far more valuable than the small vial of so-called "Spirit Medicine" she had given away.
And that small vial of "Spirit Medicine" was actually just some Blood Essence Pill powder that Song Ciwan had dissolved in mountain spring water.
The Blood Essence Pill was a potent Healing Elixir used by Cultivators at the Late-stage Qi Transformation and above. If a mortal were to use it directly, it would very likely cause them to be too weak to absorb the nourishment, leading to their body exploding and death.
Song Ciwan had scraped off a bit of powder and diluted it. For Aunt Zhou, this was a superior Spirit Medicine.
As for her posing as the Qingfeng Divine Envoy, there was no special meaning behind it. She just felt that if the "Nameless Divine Venerable," as a Divine Venerable, had to handle everything personally, it would seem a bit undignified. So, she simply fabricated a Qingfeng Divine Envoy.
Today she was the Qingfeng Divine Envoy; tomorrow she might become the Bai Feng Divine Envoy or the Hei Feng Divine Envoy... Now that she had learned Fetal Transformation and Shape-shifting, why would she fear running out of Divine Envoys to become?
Unfortunately, though the supply of Divine Envoys was endless, Song Ciwanâs own abilities were limited.
She could give away Spirit Medicine and help Aunt Zhou get back on her feet, but she couldnât help her find her daughter and resolve her suffering at its root.
Who knew where the Mouse Demon had taken Aunt Zhouâs daughter? And was she even still alive?
In this world, only her mother would be so relentless, so stubbornly attached to her.
Song Ciwan melted into the shadows of the night wind, following behind Aunt Zhou. She took out some mouse moss, ground it into a fine powder, and casually retrieved a bamboo tube from the Heaven and Earth Scale to use as a container. She then activated her Blazing Flame Technique to quickly brew it into Dark Cyan Water.
After the Dark Cyan Water cooled, she used the wind to spray it onto Aunt Zhou.
Aunt Zhou walked further and further away. Song Ciwan followed her for a while longer before finally taking out the Paper Soul Puppet she had obtained from the Spirit Communication Level Mouse Demon.
The Puppet had not yet taken shape and looked like an ordinary, drab-colored paper cutting. With a flick of her finger, Song Ciwan sent the gray paper cutting fluttering onto Aunt Zhouâs back.
The "Qingfeng Divine Envoy" had limited abilities and couldnât do much. This paper doll was merely a small token to protect her on her journey.
A tribute to this world, for still having people who love so purely.