Lin had searched for his mother's spirit countless times since her death, desperate for answers. But no matter how hard he looked, no matter how many spirits he encountered, she was nowhere to be found. It was as though she had been erased from existence.
And that was the most troubling part. Spirits didn't simply vanish. Even the weakest soul left behind some trace, a faint echo in the spiritual plane. But his mother? Nothing.
Lin's grip tightened on the broomstick. He didn't know who had taken her life or why, but he swore he would find out. Humor might have been his shield, but behind every joke was a simmering determination to uncover the truth.
Then there was his ability—the one thing that set him apart in a world where he had no dantian and no place among the sect's cultivators.
He had always been able to see spirits, even as a child. At first, he thought it was normal, that everyone could see the translucent figures wandering the streets of White Feather Town, sometimes humanoid, sometimes beastly, and even sometimes grotesquely demonic. It wasn't until he tried talking to one in front of others that he realized how different he was.
The villagers had whispered behind his back, calling him cursed or touched by the heavens. And when his mother died, the Clear Heavens Sect took him in—not out of kindness, but because a lonely orphan was an easy servant.
Lin glanced at the broom in his hands and chuckled bitterly. "From cursed child to professional cleaner. What a promotion."
He looked up as a breeze stirred the leaves, scattering the morning's dust. Somewhere, deep in his heart, he clung to the hope that one day he would find her—her spirit, her murderer, the truth. Until then, he would keep sweeping, keep laughing, and keep searching.
One of her words that still very much bothered him till today was her warning asking him to keep his ability to see spirits hidden.
He couldn't wrap his finger around why this warning was issued since was definitely a useless ability.
...
...
The Clear Heavens Sect was currently filled with much more activity than usual with disciples bustling about, preparing for an upcoming event where important influential cultivators would be in attendance.
An entire afternoon had passed in a jiffy and now Lin Raosheng was sweeping near the sect's outer gardens.
It was a place where the mist was thickest, clinging to the earth like a restless spirit.
He paused for a moment, leaning on his broom as his gaze wandered toward the distant forest that surrounded White Feather Town. Somewhere within those dense woods was a small burial site. His mother's final resting place. He intended to visit after he was done sweeping for the second time today.
"Still sweeping, Lin?" came a familiar, mocking voice.
Lin turned to see a group of junior disciples approaching. It was the same disciples he had bumped into earlier in the morning. Since Lin had to sweep two times a day, it wasn't uncommon for him to bump into the same disciples again.
They had just finished training for the day.
Fang Wei was at the head. Beside him, two others—tall and slender boys—laughed as they flanked their leader.
"Brother Fang," Lin called out while straightening and bowing with an exaggerated flourish. "What an honor! To what do I owe the pleasure of your company? Have you come to learn the sacred art of broomsmanship?"
The other two snickered, but Fang Wei's smirk turned into a scowl. "Watch your tongue, cleaner, or I'll make sure you're sweeping with broken arms."
Lin tapped the broom against the ground thoughtfully. "Hmm, I wonder how long it would take to sweep the sect with one hand. Do you think it would build character?"
Fang Wei stepped forward, but before the situation could escalate, a soft voice interrupted. "Brother Fang, is it really necessary to bother him?"
A genuine smile formed on Lin's face as Sister Yue approached.
Fang Wei sneered but stepped back. "You're lucky, Lin. Sister Yue has a soft spot for lost causes."
As the group walked away, Lin glanced at Yue, who was shaking her head. "You really shouldn't provoke them."
"It's not provoking," Lin replied, leaning casually on his broom. "It's preemptive self-defense through humor. Much more effective than swords, don't you think?"
Yue didn't know when she started laughing. "You're impossible."
Lin grinned. "Thank you. I work very hard at it."
"Lin, I need you to help me grab a Lotus red root... I'll need it to get past my current bottleneck," Yue requested with a sweet tone.
"Anything you need Sister Yue. I will climb to the Divine Realms if need be," Lin bowed dramatically.
Yue couldn't help but chuckle as she walked away; "Oh stop it."
---
Later that evening, Lin slipped away from the sect grounds, making his way down a hidden path toward the forest.
He was headed to where the Lotus red roots grew but first, he had to branch somewhere.
The moon hung low in the sky as its pale light filtered through the trees during his silent walks.
The forest was quiet but surprisingly not eerie.
He arrived at the burial site, a small clearing marked by a simple stone tablet. Kneeling before it, he traced the weathered carvings with his fingers as his expression turned uncharacteristically solemn.
"Hey, Mom," he murmured. "Still no sign of you. You're good at hiding, I'll give you that."
A soft breeze stirred the leaves, and Lin closed his eyes, imagining it was her presence. But no matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he focused, he couldn't sense her spirit. It was as if she had been erased entirely from existence, leaving only questions behind.
"You know," his voice tinged with forced lightness, "I thought if I cracked enough jokes, you might get annoyed and show up just to tell me to shut up. But I guess you're more stubborn than me."
The silence pressed against him, and for a moment, the weight of everything—the bullying, the isolation, the unanswered questions—threatened to overwhelm him. But Lin shook his head, forcing a smile.
"Don't worry, Mom. I'll figure it out."
Rising to his feet, he dusted off his robes and glanced back at the burial site.
As he turned to leave, something shifted at the edge of his vision—a faint blurred movement.
Lin's muscles tensed as he froze. Slowly, he turned his head, letting his gaze sweep towards the tree line.
There, at the edge of the clearing, stood a dark silhouette. Its form was indistinct, but its presence was overwhelming, like a void that sucked the light from the air around it.
Two glowing red eyes pierced the darkness, staring directly at him.
Lin's heart began to pound so hard that it was all he could hear. The usual playful commentary that filled his mind was gone, replaced by an oppressive pressure.
He took an involuntary step back...
"What in the…" he muttered with a trembling tone.
The silhouette didn't move, but the sheer intensity of its gaze made Lin feel like prey caught in a predator's sights. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as the shadows around it seemed to pulse and writhe, alive with a sinister energy.
Lin's feet crunched against the forest floor as he continued to back away. His hand tightened around the broom he hadn't realized he was still holding. "Alright, buddy," he stated while forcing a weak smile. "I'm not sure who you are, but if this is about me sweeping your territory, I can leave. No hard feelings."
The glowing red eyes of the figure burned brighter, and the oppressive energy surrounding it seemed to thicken, choking the air.
"Alright, alright," Lin's voice was uneven as he forced a nervous smile. "I get it. You're the strong, silent type. No need to show off."
The figure tilted its head slightly as if amused by his words. Then, without warning, it surged forward.
Lin barely had time to react as the shadowy silhouette shot toward him like a blur. Its form distorted and expanded as it moved.
In its hands, a massive scythe materialized.
It was black and purple as the void and shimmering faintly with an ancient aura.
The figure raised the weapon high with unmistakable intent.
"Oh, come on!" Lin shouted while stumbling backward as the wind howled around him.
The scythe swung downward with terrifying speed, cutting through the air with a deafening whistle.
The force of the swing sent a wild gust of wind tearing through the clearing, scattering leaves, and shaking the trees. Lin raised his arms instinctively, bracing for the inevitable.
"Guess this is how I lose my broom privileges," he muttered grimly before squeezing his eyes shut.