🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊
"Have some 🍊"
A gentle, pale light permeated the morning mist, casting a tranquil glow over the vast expanse of stone graves that stretched infinitely across the hillside.
Each grave commemorated a unique soul, inscribed with stories and memories, now resting peacefully on the cool earth.
The air was filled with the fresh scent of dew on the grass, mingling with a subtle hint of jasmine from the surrounding woods.
In front of the graves stood a woman dressed in an exquisite black hanfu. Its flowing sleeves featured delicate silver embroidery, softly shimmering in the morning light.
She exuded both power and grace, her stillness radiating a sense of calm. In her right hand, she held a sword, its blade sheathed in well-worn yet polished leather, hinting at a lifetime of care and reverence.
The woman's long, straight hair, pulled back into a simple ponytail, swayed gently in the breeze.
Her steady, calm gaze swept over the graves, conveying a sense of acceptance and peace.
The softness in her eyes suggested a long journey filled with questions and struggles that had finally reached an end.
She closed her eyes, allowing the wind to caress her face like an old friend. In this tranquil sanctuary of memories, a profound clarity washed over her. A deep, unwavering purpose took root in her heart, like a drumbeat calling for her attention.
A soft smile graced her lips, reflecting strength, resilience, and acceptance of her destined path.
As the sun began to rise, casting warm light over the stones and her poised figure, she stood tall, embracing the stillness of the morning and the endless possibilities that lay before her.
At this moment, surrounded by the quiet graves and the soft morning light, she found a profound sense of purpose, an affirmation as enduring as the stones themselves.
This woman was none other than Li Wang Zhu, a third-generation disciple of the Ranji Sect, one of the three most prestigious cultivation sects in the world that reside at the peak of the mountain.
Ten paces behind her stood another disciple of the Ranji Sect, a young woman named Wu Jan.
"Zhu Jie, what do you want to do next?"
She appeared to be in her early teens, clad in a serene green-and-white, long-sleeved hanfu, with a white veil concealing the lower half of her face. A sheathed sword hung at her waist.
Both are trained in the same sect, but under different masters. In the Ranji sect, disciples from different masters are not allowed to meet privately or mingle unless there is an event or mission that necessitates collaboration and communication.
These rules were established to prevent any setbacks in the progress of individual disciples and to avoid information being shared externally, which could allow other sects to learn about their methods.
They believe that behavior and attitude can be controlled, but once a person's words and thoughts are involved, it becomes difficult to manage.
The older generations of the Ranji sect even set boundaries and borders around each pavilion and residence of their disciples, extending to the bridges-each path has its own borders, and those from different masters could only traverse within their master's territory.
Crazy? Yes, all disciples in the Ranji sect think the same. However, they dare not retort or complain, as these rules have been in place for countless ages and centuries. However, this did not prevent the two of them from becoming sworn sisters and close friends in secret.
Wang Zhu turned to face her and smiled-a gentle, weary smile that caught Wu Jan off guard.
"Let us bring our journey to an end."
Throughout all their years of traveling in secrecy, she had never seen her senior smile this way. It was a delicate smile, as though the weight of countless burdens was finally starting to lift, and the sight of it stirred an ache in her heart.
"What do you mean?" Wu Jan asked, her voice laced with confusion.
"I am grateful for everything you've done over the years, but this will be our last meeting. I can't burden you any longer with the consequences of my choices," Wang Zhu replied, her tone calm but resolute.
"Go back to your life and live it freely. Thank you for honoring your promise to stand by me until the end. I will never forget what you've done."
For a moment, Wu Jan stood frozen, the weight of Wang Zhu's words pressing against her chest like stones. A storm of emotions churned within her: grief, frustration, and something sharper-a searing sense of betrayal that burned beneath her skin, twisting and clawing for release.
"But why?" she demanded, her fists clenching as anger erupted, raw and unrelenting, fueled by years of shared sacrifices and unspoken bonds.
"After everything we've endured together, how can you cast it all aside?" Her voice broke, the words trembling under the strain of her barely contained fury.
"We know who the culprit is now. So, why are we just walking away? Why not make him pay for everything he'd taken from you, for everything he'd done?" She took a deep breath, struggling to steady herself.
"For sixteen years, I've watched you suffer." Her empathy was evident in every word.
She had stayed by Wang Zhu's side through battles and heartbreak and held her up through endless nights of sorrow. And now, to be told to abandon all their hard work and sacrifice for many years. It was too much for her to bear.
"I've heard your screams; I've seen you wake up sweating from nightmares every single night. I've watched you struggle just to attain that pill that made you lose the ability to sleep, just so you wouldn't dream of those suffocating memories," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
"And I wanted... no, I 'needed' to see you free from it. To see justice for what you've lost. I... I thought that's what you wanted, too."
A sad smile flickered across Wang Zhu's lips. She lifted her gaze to the sky, where clouds drifted lazily. Her eyes seemed distant, as if searching for answers in the vastness above.
"Freedom, justice... I want those more than anything in this world. But I've learned that I can't take them for myself. Those who have hurt me will be held accountable-at the right time."
"Why wait for the right time when we can strike now?" Wu Jan interjected, her voice sharp.
"You say you 'can't' take it for yourself, but that's just an excuse. You're afraid that the justice you seek will turn into revenge."
Wang Zhu was caught off guard. Her lips curved slightly.
"You're getting better at pointing things out," she said, almost amused.
"You're right," she scoffed, a hollow laugh escaping her lips.
"Revenge..." She let the word linger, its weight pressing down on both of them.
"It's what fuels endless endurance. It crosses my mind, of course, but revenge only begets more revenge-and even more loss. The innocents left behind by the culprits would suffer just as I have." Her voice remained calm, collected.
"In the end, revenge leads to nothing but emptiness. It carves wounds upon wounds, scars upon scars. There is no end. So what's the point of fueling that endless cycle?" A flicker of bitterness crossed her features.
Wu Jan clenched her jaw.
"So... you're just going to let things be? After everything-after 'sixteen years' of suffering-you're willing to throw it all away and pretend that scumbag did nothing wrong?" Her voice cut sharply through the peaceful atmosphere, frustration brimming in every syllable.
"You're letting a murderer live a carefree life while you're haunted, night after night, drowning in the sorrow of your past. Don't you see what this is doing to you?" She paused, her gaze piercing, her eyes filled with distress and silent pleading.
"You're being unfair-so cruel to yourself! Why is it 'always' you who has to suffer while they walk free? Why are you the one left in pain, again and again, while they move on as if nothing happened?" Her voice softened, sorrow and desperation creeping into her tone.
"They destroyed you first. Don't you deserve a chance to fight back?" Wu Jan's expression mirrored her anguish, her eyes glistening, on the verge of tears. But despite her pain, Wang Zhu responded only with silence.
Wu Jan took a deep breath, forcing herself to regain composure.
"I understand... I respect your decision. But where will you go after this? What are your plans? Can I still approach you? Can I speak to you in public from now on?"
Wang Zhu gazed at her softly, a warm, fleeting smile gracing her lips.
"Why so many questions?"
Before Wu Jan could respond, Wang Zhu's form shimmered and began to fade, dissolving like mist under the morning sun.
Wu Jan hurriedly reached out but grasped only empty air. She stared helplessly at the spot where her senior had disappeared, a hollow ache blooming in her chest.
"Why must people like you be born into such a cruel world?" she whispered, her voice heavy with sorrow.
"Senior, take good care of yourself," she murmured, her words carried away by the passing wind.
"Four meat buns for just two silver coins!" shouted an old man beside his stall, his weathered hands deftly flipping the golden buns. Their crisp exteriors promised warmth and savory delight.
The enticing aroma filled the air, drawing passersby to his stall. A line quickly formed as hungry customers eagerly exchanged silver for a taste of his famous buns.
To the left, a woman called out with equal fervor,
"Freshly baked pastries! Sweet and filled with red bean paste! Two for a silver!"
Her table was a colorful display of flaky pastries, each one glistening with a touch of syrup that caught the morning light. Children tugged at their parents' sleeves, their eyes wide with anticipation as they pointed to the treats.
The market square buzzed with activity as friends laughed and chatted, their voices mingling with the clatter of dishes and the sizzle of pans.
Nearby, a blacksmith's forge crackled, the rhythmic clang of metal on metal punctuating the atmosphere. Smoke curled into the air, heightening the sensory overload as the blacksmith wiped his brow and glanced up to greet familiar faces.
In the center of the square, a fruit vendor displayed her vibrant produce: juicy peaches, plump oranges, and shiny apples, all artfully arranged and inviting passersby to pick and savor their freshness.
"Get your fresh fruit here! Only the ripest for you!" she called out, her eyes sparkling with the joy of the morning rush. Her stall attracted a gathering of mothers and children, each eager to fill their baskets with the season's finest offerings.
To be continued.