Chapter 3 - 3 3 Farewell

When Lady An Shen saw An Jing carrying a whole box of food and medicinal materials back to the shack, she understood everything, and tears streamed down her face. Her experiences were more abundant than An Jing’s. Seeing the caravan and the Scholar in White who came to observe afterward, she had already sensed a warning and roughly guessed the observer’s intent in watching her. Now that An Jing returned with a box full of medical materials and food, how could she not know that her child had gained the appreciation of those important figures and sold himself for this life-saving money? “Jing’er,” she wanted to sit up, and An Jing quickly set down the box and embraced his mother, gently helping her sit up straight. Lady An Shen, with tears, said, “It was I who harmed you… it was I who harmed you…” “My son is a gentleman of the Northern Border. If these people were truly aristocratic families, so be it, but if they are some gangs of evil demons, desiring your talent only because I am weak to buy you, I… I would rather I die!” “Mother,” An Jing’s tone also softened unusually, he sighed and said, “Without you, how could I have safely traversed the wilderness?” “Without you, your child would have died months ago, died by the Huai River, died in the ruins of Anmin County City, died under the swords of Horse Bandits in the wilderness!” “To save a mother’s life, why regret this body? Not to mention, if these people are really some evil demon faction, wanting your child to harm humanity, your child would never agree, at most he would return tenfold or a hundredfold in food and money, and save his life in the future.” “I will look for a chance to escape, never to conspire with them, never to bring shame on the righteousness of the An Family ancestors!” “Let’s not think about this for now. Look, this box is full of medicinal herbs for nourishing the lungs and smoothing the breath, including Blood-Activating Pills, Lung-Healing Elixirs… Quickly take them. By tonight at the latest, mother, you should be able to rejuvenate your Inner Breath and return to the realm of Martial Artists!” In gentle consolation to his mother who was suffering for him, An Jing had already taken a small porcelain bottle from the supplies, looking expectantly at Lady An Shen. No matter how sad the woman was, under her child’s watchful eye, she could only take out a pale red elixir pill and swallow it. Seeing his mother taking the medicine, An Jing smiled slightly and earnestly advised, “Mother, now that you have these medicines and food and will regain your strength, head south, bypass the checkpoints, and don’t stop.” “This Frost Calamity is huge, its momentum far greater than before. North of Broken Blade Mountain is unsafe, and Ming Mountain City… it’s likely doomed.” “If you leave when that happens, it will be too late. If a million people in Ming Mountain City become refugees, all the provinces along the Hanbei Road will be unsafe. You must keep moving south, reaching Broken Blade Mountain and Linjiang… Leave early, with your strength, mother, you can surely find a stable footing.” “I understand,” Lady An Shen also nodded slightly. This child of hers was intelligent from a young age, always decisive, and many of his suggestions were even followed by his father; indeed, a portion of the An Family’s business originated from An Jing’s ideas, and she naturally would not overlook them. “But what about you?” As a mother, Lady An Shen’s thoughts were never about her own future; she looked at her child with deep concern: “Jing’er, what about yourself?” “Me? Don’t worry.” An Jing had anticipated his mother’s concern and smoothly answered, “Regardless of who these people are, whether real aristocrats buying slaves or government sects training Loyal Warriors, they need people alive.” “Their willingness to give these medicinal materials as life-saving money is clear proof that we may have an ‘important value’ that even we do not know of; your child still has a chance to live.” At this point, An Jing suddenly paused. An unknown important value? What value could these children of the refugee camp have? To be swapped and eaten, becoming the rice and meat in another refugee’s pot, or to become a burden to a family? Himself perhaps, having some skills, but the other children, aside from toughness, what other traits do they have? Toughness… Yes, toughness… toughness indeed! An Jing suddenly realized. In this era of Embracing the Void, under the Heavenly Mandate of Da Chen, where both high and low observe the descent of Heavenly Mandate, the notion of Stars descending to earth. An Jing’s Innate Wisdom, recognized by his parents as Innate Wisdom Heaven Star, was highly cherished. Because Da Chen was established on martial arts and governed by law, both the scholarly and martial arts were the righteous paths in this era, hence from a young age, An Jing was taught literacy and martial arts, laying the groundwork and developing the robust physique he possessed today. Fate Pattern is the core of Martial Arts. Martial arts thrived in Da Chen, and even shepherds in the remote fringes knew one or two scattered moves, but most were merely rural maneuvers. Even if occasionally there were civilian masters who perfected their martial arts to an impressive level, they still hovered outside the true Martial Arts, lacking complete ‘Heart and Body Techniques’ and a distance from understanding Inner Breath, to become genuine martial artists. An Jing’s mother was a genuine martial artist, having reached the realm of ‘Inner Breath like Silk’. His father was even higher, at the realm of ‘Inner Breath as Vast as River’, capable of projecting Inner Breath to injure and probe bones. And as for the one-eyed leader and the Scholar in White, unreachable in their realm of ‘Inner Breath like Tide’, they were integrated and elusive, difficult to scrutinize. That was the endpoint of mundane martial arts. Without awakening, washing the Whole Body with Fate Pattern, one cannot break the limit of Triple Nourishment of Inner Breath, undergoing a divine transformation of the flesh, stepping into Inner Strength, let alone the many realms that follow. An Jing, born into the Martial Family, naturally understood these, thus resolving his doubts: “These people, could they be looking to select children who might awaken ‘Fate Pattern’ through the disaster situation to cultivate?” Thinking this, An Jing’s expression became serious as he took his mother’s hand: “Mother, you must survive.” “The Northern Barbarians invaded, and father went missing at Green Jade Pass, but his death has not been confirmed. Though I have sold myself, I might still be able to travel in the future.” “Survive. No matter what, just survive first.” “Only by surviving can we have a future, can we meet again!” Saying this, An Jing hugged his mother deeply. After letting go, the young man got up, searched for rice in the chest, and said with a smile, “The leader letting me return must mean he allowed me to have one last meal with you… Sёarch* The ηovёlFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Is that unexpectedly kind-hearted?” “Mother, let’s have a good meal.” Lady An Shen watched her son, who had started to prepare the fire to cook the rice, with unspeakable heartache but also a surge of pride. —This is indeed the son given to me by Shen Mubai! Her emotions were tumultuous, and the elixir she had swallowed earlier began to take effect; her Blood Qi surged, and Lady An Shen suddenly spat out a mouthful of black blood—a sign that the congestion in her damaged lungs was clearing, indicating that her lung injury was healing. This medicine’s efficacy was extraordinarily incredible, beyond belief. Seeing this scene, An Jing was utterly delighted—his mother was actually stronger than himself, and now that her lung channel was clear and her Inner Breath restored, no ordinary bandit could come close to her! However, recovery still needed time… An Jing narrowed his eyes, scanned the surroundings, and felt quite a few prying eyes. As the scent of rice spread, it attracted many already desperate refugees nearby. Ming Mountain City had long closed its gates to the refugees and shut down the porridge stalls; the refugee camp still existed because the Huai River and Cui River had been blocked by checkpoints, leaving the refugees nowhere to go, forced to stay there, gradually starving to death. This was perhaps the outcome desired by the gentry of Ming Mountain City and the officials of Hanbei. But life always finds its own way out, even if some ways are destined to be dead ends. Among the spying refugees, a few were too bold or perhaps so starved they lacked rationality, had already picked up wooden spears, and were quietly approaching An Jing’s shelter. They had previously cooked a pot of ‘meat soup,’ thinking they could fill their bellies that day, but it had been trampled and crushed by a group of horsemen, the meat scrapped and seized by other refugees. Now, this woman sick with tuberculosis and the skinny boy had obtained so much food from those horsemen, filling their hearts completely with anger, jealousy, and hunger. But before they could attack, An Jing had already stood up. —Jackals. An Jing watched the refugees who were slowly approaching, their eyes gleaming green, indifferently. To him, these figures wielding wooden spears appeared like jackal and winter wolves closing in, their stinking drool, crazed eyes, and unabashed malice rushing toward him like the knife-like cold wind of winter days. But he was never fearful. An Jing drew the knife from his waist that he had taken from a Horse Bandit, pounced forward, and without any hesitation, chopped down at the closest refugee! “Aaaaah!!!” Along with a piercing scream, the greedy refugee’s shoulder burst open in a spray of blood, the man staggered back, his wooden spear falling to the ground—while An Jing, without any mercy, stepped forward and kicked the refugee in the chest, trampling him to the ground, then reversed his grip on the knife and slashed across his chest! The sound of flesh and organs being sliced open sounded, large spurts of blood and foul fluids flowed out, quickly solidifying under the frost of the Frost Calamity. In the end, An Jing beheaded the refugee, grabbed his hair, held up the head, and in the screams of the other greedy refugees fleeing, he hung the unblinking head with its own wooden spear on the side of the shelter. “This head should buy enough time for you, mother, to recover enough martial force.” Returning to the shelter, the rice was just ready. An Jing and the relieved-looking Lady An Shen exchanged glances, unconcerned about the fresh blood on his face and cloth. “This way, mother won’t have to worry about me being at a disadvantage.” Lady An Shen gazed at her son tenderly yet with a tinge of sadness, reached out her hand to wipe the blood off An Jing’s face, “Sit down, and let us eat this last meal together.” “Okay.” Under the watchful, fearful eyes and the smell of blood, An Jing and his mother slowly finished their last meal in this refugee camp. Then, it was time for them to part ways.