Chapter 3 Part I

    In the scorching heat of the sixth month, Xuyao sat sipping tea to cool down in the garden behind the house, gazing over the dozens of herb plots spread across approximately seven mu, with about one acre reserved for drying herbs and further processing. The intense heat made her reluctant to do any work, so she contented herself with sipping mediocre tea and reading a medical text under the shade of a large tree.

    Clack, clack, clack.

    The sound of bamboo striking each other drew the young woman's attention away from her book. She looked up to see two figures of different ages sparring not far from the drying yard. One was a large man in frequently washed, faded coarse cloth, with a dull white cloth tied blindfold-style around his eyes and knotted at the back. The other was a little boy about to turn six.

    If not Xiaoxin and Dadou, then who could it be? They were intently practicing martial arts.

    Dadou had been living in her house for nearly a year now. His injuries had almost fully healed, except for his eyes, which she could not completely cure. However, he didn't seem eager to seek treatment. Throughout the nearly year-long period, she had never seen him remove the cloth tied around his eyes. In fact, she hadn't even clearly seen his face at all.

    When he first arrived, his face was swollen, bruised, and covered in wounds. After a period of treatment, Xiaoxin took over the job of applying medicine and bandaging. Since his face had healed, Dadou had always worn the blindfold. Nevertheless, Dadou was able to live like a normal person—walking, eating, and even helping in the herb garden without any deficiencies. Xuyao suspected he was relying on the heightened senses and familiarity typical of a martial arts practitioner.

    Dadou must be a highly skilled martial artist. It was a pity that she was not a martial artist herself, so she could not determine the exact level of his skills.

    Dadou was a man of few words and rarely shared his thoughts with others. However, when he learned of Xiaoxin's desire to learn martial arts, the young man offered to teach the boy as a way to repay their kindness. Xuyao remembered how Xiaoxin had cried out in joy, startling her.

    Since then, Dadou had taken on the role of Xiaoxin's martial arts teacher. While he was still recuperating, he had the boy practice meditation and basic vital energy understanding. As Xiaoxin advanced to a certain level and Dadou's health improved, he began teaching the boy various martial arts techniques.

    Dadou once told her that the boy was talented enough to train in both vital energy and spiritual power. With proper support, Xiaoxin could become both a common martial artist and a great mage. But this made Xuyao feel inadequate. How could she properly support him as just a simple village woman? Was supporting a martial artist involved just encouragement? Surely, it wasn’t.

    Supporting a martial artist of high caliber required not only the martial artist's own talents but also substantial financial resources. This was because the training involved special medicines, weapons, and objects that enhance both physical and mental powers, all of which must be purchased. If not for the wealth of powerful families, how could they maintain their status? It seemed that fate indeed favored the wealthy and well-born. Such was the human condition; life’s starting points for each person were truly different.

    Nevertheless, since Xiaoxin possessed the talent that Dadou spoke of, she decided to strive a little harder. Xuyao had saved some money intended for the expenses of taking the official medical seal examination. If she passed and acquired the seal, she could legitimately open a medical clinic in the city, which would increase her earnings. Then, she might be able to support Xiaoxin to some extent.

    Why does she feel such a profound maternal instinct towards this boy? This child, he is not ordinary; he desires to become a martial artist—a real karmic challenge for me! Xuyao thought this with a mixture of pride and bitterness.

    "Big Sister! Big Sister! I have reached level three in the Eight-Petal Moon Blade technique,"

    Suddenly, Xiaoxin rushed towards her, drenched in sweat, his eyes sparkling with excitement. Xiaoxin was always like this, passionate about his martial training. Whenever he mastered a new level, he would always run to tell her first.

    "Ah, Little Xiaoxin, you're really impressive. What would you like to eat today? I will cook it for you."

    "I want herb-stewed chicken!" It seemed a special day indeed; it looked like one of the hens he fed every day was going to be sacrificed for a celebratory meal.

    "Is that okay?" The boy asked hesitantly. Eh… Could it be that herb-stewed chicken was too lavish for just any day? It wasn’t even New Year’s yet. Would his sister really slaughter a chicken for him?

    Besides his own desire to eat it, the boy also remembered his teacher. He wanted to offer a chicken to his teacher as a thanks for the martial arts training.

    “Of course, why not? If Xiaoxin has advanced to another level like this, it surely calls for celebration.”

    “Yay! Thank you!”

    “Now, show me what you have learned; tell your sister about it,” Xuyao motioned for the boy to sit beside her on the bench, wiping his sweat gently as he excitedly and proudly explained.

    “Big Sister, this technique has nine levels. Master said that reaching level three in such a short time means I’m doing very well, but higher levels will be much harder to train...” The little boy narrated, gesturing animatedly as if he were an aged storyteller.

    Dadou, standing not far away and listening to his young disciple 's cheerful chatter, smiled once before heading back inside the house.

    That evening, having promised Xiaoxin, Xuyao prepared a large pot of herb-stewed chicken for dinner. Besides celebrating Xiaoxin’s martial arts progress, another reason for the feast was that the next day would be her eighteenth birthday. Xuyao took this opportunity to celebrate her own birthday as well.

    The scent of the delicious chicken filled the air, drawing Xiaoxin and Dadou, who were chatting outside. The boy ran excitedly into the kitchen, twisting slightly in embarrassment, “Big Sister, is there anything I can help with?”

    “When it was time to pluck the chicken, you never glanced this way. Now that it smells good, you’re the first to run here, you greedy child.”

    “I... I wasn’t really... I… I just wanted to help you. I got carried away talking about martial worlds with the teacher and lost track of time," he hastily made up an excuse, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

    "Haha, here, take it. Carry it carefully, or it will all spill," Xuyao handed him the big bowl of stewed chicken. Xiaoxin took it, his eyes glittering, and walked carefully back outside.

    That night, the three of them enjoyed a hearty meal, with Xiaoxin and Xuyao dominating the conversation, while Dadou simply smiled or nodded in agreement.

    "Master, when will I be able to complete the fourth level of the Eight-Petal Moon Blade technique?" After a satisfying talk with Xuyao, the boy turned to ask Dadou, who was eating quietly.

    "Do not rush your martial arts training; you must thoroughly understand the basics," Dadou replied in an even tone.

    "Ah, understood, I will obey."

    Since Xiaoxin had formally accepted Dadou as his master, he completely obeyed the young man. Xuyao saw Dadou as a reliable and good-natured person, having observed him live in her house for many months. She trusted him to look after Xiaoxin, though she still kept an eye on them from a distance, occasionally offering guidance to the young boy.

    She treated his injuries, and in turn, he trained Xiaoxin in martial arts. They were mutually indebted to each other. After accepting Xiaoxin as his disciple, she never asked Dadou when he planned to leave.

    The special meal passed quickly. Xiaoxin was responsible for washing the dishes, diligently carrying out his tasks without complaints, truly a child of great understanding. His personality was still the same as when he first came to live with her.

    Xuyao strolled near the herb patches, some of which were planted with various flowers, all usable in making medicines and also a delight to the senses. As evening fell and the oppressive heat eased, a gentle breeze made her feel refreshed.

    "Miss Yao," a deep voice pulled her attention away from the colorful flower beds. Once familiar enough, Dadou had shifted from calling her by her surname to calling her by her name, yet his tone still carried a hint of respect.

    "Huh, what is it, Master Dadou?" Even up to this point, she still called him by the name Dadou that Xiaoxin had given him. As for the young boy, he had changed to calling him Master. She had forgotten to ever ask for his name or surname. Once she started calling him Dadou, the name just stuck.

    The young man was silent for a long moment before stating firmly, "I will be leaving."

    Xuyao raised her eyebrows, her breath catching slightly. She looked up at the young man in confusion. It was unfortunate she couldn't see his eyes because they were covered by cloth.

    Dadou had been living with her and her brother for nearly a year. Though he was often reserved, he had integrated into her and Xiaoxin's life for a while, from watering the herbs to washing dishes, cleaning the house, fetching water, or teaching Xiaoxin martial arts. Their relationship was one of mutual dependence—not close, yet not distant. But his sudden declaration of departure left her feeling unexpectedly hollow.

    She wasn't very close to him but felt a slight sorrow at his leaving. But what would little Xiaoxin feel when he learned of this?

    Seeing her silence, the young man spoke again, "I must return to settle my family's affairs and also find a cure for my eyes."

    "That's understandable. I hope you find healing for your eyes, and thank you for everything with Xiaoxin," Xuyao knew well that he belonged to a different world than hers. Judging by his actions, demeanor, and way of speaking, he might be a young master of the grand family or a son of an official. He couldn't stay here forever.

    "Hmm, no need for thanks. He deserves it. Thank you again, Miss Yao, for saving my life. I have nothing to repay you with now but hope to repay this debt in the future."

    "..."

    Xuyao fell silent again before sighing heavily, "Xiaoxin..."

    "I will tell him tonight and will leave at dawn tomorrow."

    "Alright."

    "Farewell."

    "Farewell to you. Safe travels."

    That night, Xuyao went to bed a bit earlier, but she couldn't fall asleep as usual. The events of the day involving Dadou troubled her. She tossed and turned, her mind reaching out to Xiaoxin in the next room, who probably had already heard the sad news.

    Before long, the sounds of the little boy sobbing seeped through the thin walls.

    Poor little turtle, crying so loudly.

    It was over one shichen before the crying stopped, leaving behind silence and darkness. Xiaoxin must have cried himself to sleep, but it was she who found herself unable to close her eyes.

    Eventually, late into the night, the young woman finally drifted off to sleep.

    The one about to leave unexpectedly opened his blind eyes. No matter how calm he tried to be, Xiaoxin's sobs still echoed in his ears. The laughter of the siblings, the scent of the herbs, and the warmth of the morning sun continued to linger in his every memory.

    The young man couldn't find peace. Eventually, as the quiet of the night settled and he felt Xiaoxin's steady breathing, he rose from his bed. He fumbled for a stack of paper under the bed, placed it on the small table by the bedside, and then silently left the house.

    At the crack of dawn, the rooster's call woke the siblings from their slumber. Xuyao got up from the bed, weary. Last night, it had taken her almost all night to fall asleep. As she recalled the events that had transpired, she glanced toward Xiaoxin's small room; Dadou must have left already.

    Squeak.

    Xiaoxin came out of his room, his eyes swollen from crying. Upon seeing his sister, his eyes filled with tears again.

    "Hic! Big Sister... He... Master, hic... boo hoo hoo," he finally burst into tears again.

    Master had left. What would he do now?

    "Xiaoxin, come here, come to me," the young woman sat down and pulled the little boy into her arms. As she hugged him, he sobbed even louder. Xuyao could only gently rub his back. Oh, child. Such a pure-hearted child he was, whoever was good to him, he was good to them in return—loving, respectful, sorrowful, longing, all openly displayed. But time would heal, Dadou had left behind good memories and beautiful moments in the young boy's heart. When he grew up, these times would be a precious part of his life. The young woman consoled him quietly until his crying eventually quieted down to soft sobs. His eyes would probably be swollen for several more days.

    Suddenly, Xuyao felt a sharp pain in her eyes, which then became intensely burning and painful, as if fire had entered her sight, causing her to cry out in pain.