I still couldn't grasp what had just happened. My wife, Eira Aeron , had pulled me into the storage house on the mountain and embraced me tightly.
After Eira Aeron explained everything to me in detail, I grew to hate cultivators. Eira Aeron had once been a genius, but she offended someone and was crippled by a fire poison attack, losing her cultivation and falling to the level of a mortal.
That night, the cold pierced to the bone. She let me hold her as we slept together, warm and soft...
For some reason, the feelings of sorrow and loss gradually dissipated, leaving only warmth and endless tenderness.
I was no longer afraid. My mind became unusually calm.
A thought flickered in my head, firmly taking root—this was all just a dream. That thought grew stronger quickly and then vanished just as fast.
In the days that followed, our feelings for each other deepened. I went to chop firewood and gather herbs, while she stayed home tending to the animals and preparing medicines. We managed to have enough to eat and wear.
Winter came, bringing fierce winds and heavy snow, but inside our cozy cabin, what was meant to happen finally did. She accepted me as her husband.
That night, inside our small wooden house, two young bodies intertwined, warming each other. As I held her small, warm body like a flame, that incredibly clear-headed feeling returned—a sense of being stuck, as though something was missing, holding me back from true fulfillment.
I didn't understand why.
I took out the shiny scroll that was buried in the corner of the house. The same scroll from the cave. Opening it, everything remained the same—bright and clear, with a happy and rosy-cheeked image of me, accompanied by the small note in the corner, "something wants to harm you." I had no idea what it meant, and neither did Eira .
When I turned 21, a year after our village had been destroyed, the snow had never stopped falling, covering everything.
I realized that the more intimate I became with Eira, the stronger I grew. Eira , too, became more graceful and elegant with each passing day. But the uncomfortable feeling of being trapped intensified.
One day, she taught me a breathing technique, instructing me to follow it. I tried, but nothing changed. At that moment, her eyes showed the same unwillingness, anger, and sadness as before. I didn't understand what else she could want. She no longer stayed close to me.
She said her cultivation was slowly recovering. If she stayed with me, it would harm my health, and possibly bring bad luck—it was the divide between mortals and immortals.
I tried my best to follow the breathing technique, but I couldn't cultivate... In the end, she left me. She went to the opposite cliff to cultivate. I knew she didn't want to part, but...
My desire to become a cultivator burned fiercely within me.
At 24, after three years of trying and failing to gather even a trace of spiritual energy, I gave up. I told my wife to leave. Our fate had ended. She walked away in tears.
Yes, the divide between mortals and immortals. Just like eight years ago, the divide remained...
Sitting in our snow-covered house, I stared at the jade bracelet I had given her, lying on the table. She had taken the jade bracelet she gave me with her. I knew our fate was over. I didn't know what else to do.
I opened the shiny scroll again. Everything inside remained the same, but this time, the face in the image was tired and sorrowful, just like eight years ago. I packed my belongings and set off alone into the forest, back to that cave. Everything was still the same—the tree, the stream. The place had been untouched for a long time, covered in a thick layer of dust. I cleaned up and built a small hut.
In the blink of an eye, 50 years passed. Inside the cave, it was unusually warm, with eternal spring. I spent my days in the company of nature, living a peaceful and simple life.
Time passed silently, watching as space changed, and my body grew weaker.
Knowing I didn't have much time left, I took out the scroll that had followed me throughout my life.
Quiet and still, I opened the scroll one last time. Inside, the image had changed to that of an old man with a peaceful, serene face. Looking at the reflection of myself, I saw only the passage of time.
I smiled, feeling a deep sense of peace. I was no longer bound by anything. Time had worn everything away. The moment had come to let it all go. I placed the scroll down and gazed at my reflection in the water. (Yes), time had passed, and I had aged, but everything here remained the same, as if it had never changed.
Looking at the still-green tree before me, I muttered:
"I really want to see you bloom and bear fruit again. The taste of that fruit is wonderful. I truly wish to see it."
At that moment, the scroll shone, releasing a mysterious power that surrounded the only person in this place. The streams of power flowed according to some unknown rule, and the space slowly shifted.
In my eyes, the tree sprouted buds, then bloomed, and finally bore fruit. The fragrance filled the air. Instinctively, I reached out, plucked a fruit, and tasted its sweetness, memories of my youth flooding back.
Looking around, the scene had changed. Buildings and towers now filled the area. Suddenly, a voice filled with anger sounded from behind me:
"Who are you, and why are you stealing from the Ling Shui Sect?"