In a cave, the three of them painstakingly gathered some dry firewood. The heavy rain outside continued to fall, but after lighting the fire, a faint warmth filled the cavern.
They removed their outer garments and warmed themselves by the flames.
The night's fierce battles had left them utterly exhausted. Even the child sat quietly, knees hugged to his chest, not uttering a word.
Chu Qiao's expression was calm. The child leaned against her side, his small back appearing frail and thin. She seemed lost in thought, or perhaps not thinking of anything at all—simply sitting there with her head resting against the cold stone.
Zhuge Yue seemed unable to bear the awkward silence and oppressive atmosphere. His brow furrowed deeply, and he abruptly stood up, declaring in a low voice, "The firewood is running low. I'll go gather more." With that, he headed out.
"Zhuge Yue!"
Chu Qiao cried out as if startled.
Zhuge Yue paused, turning back to look at her curiously. "What is it?"
"N-nothing," Chu Qiao replied, a hint of fluster in her expression as she shook her head. "It's nothing."
Zhuge Yue raised an eyebrow slightly, asking with concern, "Are you alright? You weren't injured, were you?"
Chu Qiao forced a weak smile. "I'm really fine."
Zhuge Yue nodded. "Wait here." He started to leave but turned back to add, "Keep an eye on the little one. Don't... don't let him wander off."
"Mm," Chu Qiao nodded with a smile. "Go ahead."
Zhuge Yue turned to leave, but after just two steps, Chu Qiao called out again, "Wait."
He stopped as Chu Qiao hurried over, handing him the Moon Breaker Sword. She checked his relatively minor injuries, her eyes bright as she softly said, "Be careful."
Zhuge Yue froze for a moment, studying her curiously before nodding expressionlessly and walking out of the cave.
But the moment he stepped outside, a smile broke across the man's face as if he could no longer contain it. He childishly rubbed his nose, the lines of his face softening, his eyes shining brightly.
Even after Zhuge Yue had gone far, Chu Qiao remained standing in place, her expression peculiar—seeming both weary and deeply remorseful.
She returned to sit by the fire, gently stroking the child's head as she asked softly, "Your name is Mo'er, isn't it?"
The child nodded but said nothing.
"Are you very sad?"
The child remained silent. Chu Qiao sighed softly, wrapping her arms around his small frame and whispering, "I know you're hurting."
A tear suddenly fell, landing on Chu Qiao's hand. The child began to sob, stammering brokenly, "Stars... stars..."
Chu Qiao's heart instantly filled with sorrow. Remembering the little girl with the radiant smile felt like a knife twisting in her chest.
"Mo'er, do you hate those people?"
Perhaps the child didn't fully understand the meaning of hatred, but he suddenly clenched his small fists tightly and declared fiercely, "Mo'er will grow up quickly, learn martial arts like Uncle, and kill all those bad people."Chu Qiao suddenly didn't know what to say. What could she say? That vengeance only begets more vengeance? That violence can't solve everything? She didn't even dare look into the child's eyes. Her hands trembled uncontrollably, her heart aching so deeply, so profoundly. She could only gently pat the child's trembling back and nod through choked sobs: "Then you must work hard. Even if you can't kill your enemies, you can at least protect yourself."
"Mo'er will definitely kill them all!" The child raised a small fist to show determination, then turned to look at Chu Qiao with innocent eyes, asking: "Will sister teach Mo'er skills?"
Chu Qiao smiled bitterly and said: "From now on, you must follow that uncle properly, listen to him, and be a good child. He will take care of you and teach you skills."
The child blinked and went straight to the point: "What about sister then?"
Chu Qiao froze momentarily. She took a deep breath and forced a light tone: "Sister will come visit Mo'er when she gets the chance."
The child was truly clever. He immediately became alarmed, tightly grabbing Chu Qiao's sleeve as he asked loudly: "Are you leaving?"
Chu Qiao shook her head, holding the child's small body as if speaking to him, yet also to herself, her voice so soft: "Mo'er, you are very unfortunate, yet you are also very lucky. Your parents died at others' hands, your enemies are very powerful, you couldn't possibly resist them. Originally, you were supposed to die too, yet someone was willing to protect you. Though your home is gone, someone will take care of and protect you from now on. In this sense, you are very lucky."
"But there are people in this world who are even more unfortunate than you. Their grudges run deeper than yours, their enemies more powerful. They have endured humiliation and burdened themselves for many years, with no one willing to help them. They can only rely on their own efforts, suffering bullying and insults. So the resentment in their hearts is even greater than yours."
Chu Qiao smiled quietly, her hand resting on the child's head. Her smile was so gentle, even somewhat compassionate, as she said softly: "Therefore, no matter what you do in the future, sister will forgive you, because sister knows what you've been through, knows why you became who you are today. But when you do wrong, sister will find ways to stop you."
"Sister," the child said loudly: "Mo'er won't do anything wrong. I'll listen to everything sister says."
"Good child," Chu Qiao held the child and sighed softly: "I hope you'll still remember these words of yours in the future."
The fire crackled. The child grew sleepy, so Chu Qiao found some dry grass for Mo'er to lie on. Soon, the child's soft snoring could be heard.
Chu Qiao's expression remained calm as she quietly watched the sleeping child's face. For a moment, it seemed she had returned to many years ago, after that massacre, in that dilapidated, leaky house - the pale face of a youth, tightly furrowed brows, and their suppressed whispers:
"Survive, even if it means living like a dog."
In the blink of an eye, so many years had passed.
She picked up a branch and wrote a few characters on the ground, her strokes so heavy as if pouring all her heart and soul into them.
Finally, she took one last look at the cave, one last look at the small child, then took a deep breath and walked out of the cave without looking back.A sudden chorus of horse neighs erupted, followed by the thunderous sound of hooves and the relentless downpour.
Zhuge Yue returned swiftly, even having hunted a rabbit. He entered the cave with a smile, about to speak, but froze instantly.
"Kid! Kid!"
Zhuge Yue urgently woke the child. Mo'er rubbed his eyes, looking at him drowsily, and said, "Uncle."
Zhuge Yue's face turned pale as he hurriedly asked, "Where's Chu Qiao? Where is she?"
"Sister?" The child frowned in confusion, pointing to where Chu Qiao had been sitting earlier. "Sister was right there. Huh? Where is she?"
Zhuge Yue released him abruptly and rushed out of the cave. Sure enough, one of the horses was missing.
"Uncle! There's writing here!"
Hearing this, Zhuge Yue dashed back inside. Beside the fire pit, several lines of delicate yet deeply etched characters revealed the writer's tumultuous emotions.
"I'm leaving. Don't look for me. I won't foolishly return for revenge. Take good care of Mo'er."
Beneath these words, another line appeared, slightly messier: "Zhuge Yue, thank you."
Thank you? For what?
For sparing her life? For the assistance along the way? Or for caring for this child?
Zhuge Yue let out a furious roar and kicked over the fire he had painstakingly built. Mo'er shrank back in fear, not daring to approach.
Striding forward, Zhuge Yue was about to rush out of the cave.
"Uncle!" The child, terrified of being abandoned, cried out, "Where are you going?"
Where indeed? To chase after her? What right did he have?
Zhuge Yue let out a cold laugh, then flung the object in his hand aside. Standing in the empty cave, he raised his head, breathing heavily, and muttered mockingly, "Zhuge Yue, you fool!"
Outside, the rain poured relentlessly—a downpour fierce enough to trigger another flood along the Chishui River.
Chu Qiao galloped through the cold rain, her mind a blank slate. Everything had fallen into place, and she cursed herself inwardly for being so foolish, for needing to see it with her own eyes to understand.
Her blood surged with heat, her eyes brightened, and her breathing grew rapid.
The sound of hooves echoed wildly as she raced through the wilderness.
Under the bleak, icy sky, she rode for what felt like an eternity before finally glimpsing that low-lying valley again.
All her strength seemed to drain away in an instant. She sat motionless on her horse, staring at the empty valley, her blood turning cold inch by inch.
Dismounting, she trudged through the muddy water, one heavy step after another. Sure enough, in that very spot, she once again saw the tiny, lifeless body of Xingxing.
Two hours later, a crude new grave stood hastily erected, beneath which lay three innocent lives.
Chu Qiao stood before the grave, drew her blade with a sharp swish, and planted it beside her. Without regard for the filth on the ground, she knelt abruptly.
"Xingxing, I'm sorry."
Chu Qiao's voice was low, tinged with helpless sorrow. "I can't avenge you, sister."
"Thud!"A heavy head struck the ground, splashing muddy water everywhere. She remained kneeling silently, countless words swirling in her chest yet knowing anything she said would sound like bitter irony. Her hands clutched desperately at the withered grass, her gaze resolute even as tears began to stream down her face. She didn't know whether she was weeping for the dead child or for something else entirely.
"I'm sorry! I can't do it!"
Her voice choked with emotion as she suddenly rose to her feet, swiftly mounted her horse, and galloped toward Tang Capital.
Though it should have been afternoon, the sky was unnaturally dark, with oppressive black clouds looming overhead that made breathing difficult.
The wind rustled through the forest with a rushing sound, as if everything was watching the receding figure - including that small, fresh grave.
In this mournful wind and rain, with leaves falling everywhere, when would this cold, damp weather finally clear?
Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away at Tang Capital City's gates, there came a thunderous sound as they swung open. A magnificent carriage burst forth at breakneck speed. The young driver, barely eighteen or nineteen, cried out anxiously to the passenger inside: "Your Highness, we can't go any faster! The horses are about to collapse!"
"Faster! Faster!" urged the voice from within the carriage. Then emerged a face of extraordinary beauty - wearing vibrant crimson brocade robes as if dressed for a wedding, with captivating phoenix eyes that slanted upward. "If we get caught this time," the voice continued urgently, "I'll order both your sisters to serve in the royal bedchamber."
The young man's face instantly paled with alarm, then filled with renewed determination as he vigorously cracked his whip across the horses' hindquarters.
With a long whinny, the horses immediately surged forward in a frenzied dash.
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