Chapter 8 Part 1
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This chapter is edited by Farouq Omileye. Thank you for your contribution!
Chapter 8: I Wish I Was the Star and You Were the Moon (1)
A gust of cold wind swept through the trees, their yellow leaves fluttering in the breeze.
As they rustled, the yellow leaves rolled and fell to the ground, swirling in the air like tawny butterflies, scattering across the sky.
Xiao Jinse lifted her head slightly, her gaze drifting upwards.
The world in her eyes seemed to be slowly dying.
But whether it was back then or now, someone always appeared to tell her that everything she saw was just a facade.
Look.
The earth bloomed with red and pink flowers.
Under the delicate touch of Elder Martial Sister Bai Lian, the flowers radiated a more alluring vitality, their petals appearing to drip with a tender, almost liquid glow.
Xiao Jinse felt an immense comfort in the sight.
For a moment, the flowers were carried away by the wind, scattering yellow leaves across the sky.
Float, float.
As they drifted, Xiao Jinse’s thoughts wandered back to her hometown.
She hadn’t always been at a low point.
Once, she had been the apple of the Xiao family’s eye, cherished deeply before it was discovered that she had an “Obsolete Spiritual Root.”
Her status was not just due to being the daughter of the family head, but because at the age of sixteen, she was destined to be taken to the Sword Washing Pavilion to become the Sword Bearer, a position revered by thousands.
For the people of Castle Peak City, the strongest cultivator barely reached the Foundation Establishment Stage. The Sword Washing Pavilion, an immortal sect, was a realm they could never even dare to dream of.
As the family elders would say:
“The Sword Washing Pavilion is an immortal sect that flies in the sky!”
“Isn’t the Royal Family of Wutan powerful enough? In the eyes of the Sword Washing Pavilion, they are no more than a group of ants!”
“When you officially become the Sword Bearer of the Sword Washing Pavilion, even if the emperor wants to send his daughter to our family as a maid, he’ll have to kneel and beg us!”
Such arrogance could make anyone want to strike back, yet it was undeniably true.
A princess?
To ordinary people, a princess might be a dazzling figure, but to cultivators, a mere princess wasn’t even worth a medicinal pill that could slightly improve their cultivation base.
The Sword Bearer of the Sword Washing Pavilion was destined to break through to the Soul Changing Stage, a cultivator so powerful that destroying Wutan would be as effortless as crushing an ant.
So, when word spread that Xiao Jinse had been favored by the Sword Washing Pavilion, the Xiao family became the object of flattery for the nearby powerful families. Even the royal family sent their congratulations.
At that time, she was given many awe-inspiring titles.
The immortal seed, the fairy of Castle Peak City, the matchless sword maiden…
Wherever she went, a large crowd followed, and the Xiao family made every effort to fulfill her wishes.
She was more like a princess than any real princess.
Xiao Jinse was full of confidence. She said to her father, “Dad, when I become a sword immortal, I will also make you an immortal!”
Her father, stroking her head, replied, “I’ll be happy as long as you can live a safe life.”
She was still too young to understand the deeper meaning in her father’s words.
She had grown up surrounded by love until one day, an accident suddenly struck.
At the age of ten, a Sword Bearer from the Sword Washing Pavilion passed through Castle Peak City while on a mission.
He arrived with a smile on his face, but that smile marked the beginning of a nightmare.
When the Sword Bearer angrily declared that Xiao Jinse had an Obsolete Spiritual Root, her world instantly crashed down.
She stood frozen in the middle of the family hall, her mind blank.
What was happening?
She barely registered the scolding words, only remembering her father suddenly rushing to her side and embracing her.
His body was hot, trembling with emotion, yet his hands were firm, never loosening their grip on her.
He whispered, “Don’t be afraid. Daddy is here.”
“Hmm.”
She lowered her head, feeling a sense of guilt.
Maybe she had done something wrong.
After all, everyone always said that only children who had done wrong were condemned.
But she wasn’t afraid, because her father was there.
She used to have nightmares. When she woke up, she would always find her father’s hand tightly holding hers by her side.
That was the warmest feeling in the world.
It was the same now.
But…
At the age of eleven, her father died.
In the mourning hall, she felt something stirring within her.
It was warm, but it made her feel cold.
She didn’t cry. She noticed that the others around her didn’t cry either. They spoke in hushed tones, their words taunting her.
That was when it hit her—
Not everyone’s death is mourned with sadness.
Some people cry.
Some people laugh.
And most people will speak in the most casual tones, saying, “Someone died yesterday.”
Is the world too cold?
She didn’t think so.
She only remembered what her father had said when he stroked her head as they returned to their dark and narrow room:
“When you find someone you love, you won’t feel the hardship.”
Tears poured down her face, as if the floodgates had been broken.
From that moment on, she had no one to love, and no one to love her.
She felt utterly alone.
At twelve years old, on her birthday, the rain poured down that night.
She struggled to rise from the straw mattress.
She limped over to the window, licking the wound on her body, feeling the pain.
It hurt.
The pain came from being beaten earlier in the day with a thorn-covered stick.
She was no longer as innocent as before.
This was the way people grew.
There were moments when she felt exhausted and weak, her body and soul close to separating.
There were moments when she was consumed with rage, wanting to destroy everyone who had beaten and cursed her.
But it was her birthday.
Staring at the rain beating against the window frame, her emotions strangely calmed.