Farewell

When An Shen-shi saw An Jing carrying an entire chest of grain and medicinal herbs back to the shelter, she understood everything at once and burst into tears. Her experience was richer than An Jing's. After seeing that convoy and the White-Robed Scholar who had come to observe them, she had already sensed a warning in her heart and roughly guessed their purpose in observing her. Now that An Jing had returned with a chest full of medicinal herbs and grain, how could she not know that her child had won the favor of those great figures, sold himself, and received this Life-Price? 'Jing'er.' She tried to sit up. An Jing hurriedly put down the chest and embraced his mother, gently helping her sit upright. An Shen-shi said through tears, 'I have brought this upon you... I have brought this upon you...' 'My son is a first-rate son of a good family from the Northern Frontier. If these people are truly from a Great Household, then so be it. But if they are some evil sect or gang of villains who covet your talent and took advantage of my weakness to buy you, I... I would rather die!' 'Mother.' An Jing's tone also softened, rarely so gentle. He sighed, 'Without you, how could I have crossed the wilderness safely?' 'If not for you, your child would have died months ago—dead by the banks of the Huai River, dead in the ruins of Anmin County, dead beneath the blade of a bandit in the wilderness!' 'To save my mother's life, why should I spare my own body? Even more, if these people truly are some demonic faction and want me to harm the world, I will never agree. At most, I will repay ten or a hundred times the money and grain, and perhaps save a life for them in the future.' 'I will look for a chance to escape. I will never wallow with them in sin and betray the righteous spirit of the An family's ancestors through the generations!' 'Do not think about this now. Look, this chest is full of medicinal herbs that nourish the lungs and regulate qi. There are also Blood-Activating Pills and Lung-Healing Elixirs... Take them quickly. By tonight at the latest, Mother, you will be able to gather your Inner Breath again and return to the realm of a Martial Artist!' Comforting his worried mother with gentle words, An Jing had already taken a small porcelain bottle from the supplies and looked at An Shen-shi expectantly. No matter how sorrowful she was, under her child's gaze, the woman could only take out a pale red pill and swallow it. Seeing his mother take the medicine, An Jing smiled slightly and said seriously, 'Mother, once you have these medicines and grain and recover your strength, head south without stopping. Bypass the checkpoints and do not linger.' 'This Frost Calamity is greater and more violent than any before. The lands north of the Broken Blade Mountains are no longer safe. Mingshan City... is probably finished too.' 'If you wait until then to leave, it will be too late. If the million people in Mingshan City all become refugees, none of the prefectures in Hanbei Circuit will be safe. You must keep going south until you reach the Broken Blade Mountains and the banks of the Lin River... Go early. With your strength, Mother, you will certainly be able to establish yourself.' 'I know.' An Shen-shi nodded slightly. The child had been clever since young and had always had his own opinions. Even his father often took his advice; part of the An family's estate had even come from An Jing's suggestions, so of course she would not make light of them. 'But what about you?' As a mother, An Shen-shi never thought first of her own future. She looked at her child with deep worry. 'Jing'er, what about you?' 'Me? Do not worry.' An Jing had long expected his mother's worry. He answered smoothly, 'No matter who these people are—whether it is truly a Great Household buying servants, or the government or a sect training Deathsworn—they need us alive.' 'The fact that they are willing to give these medicinal herbs as a Life-Price is proof enough. Perhaps we have some important value that even we do not know. Your child still has a chance to live.' At this point, An Jing's expression suddenly froze. Important value that they themselves did not know? What value could the children in this Refugee Camp have? To be exchanged and eaten, becoming Rice Flesh in other refugees' pots? Or to become a burden on a family? As for himself, that was one thing; he did have some ability. But what other traits did the other children have, besides Hard Fate? Hard fate... Yes, Hard Fate... It was Hard Fate! An Jing suddenly understood. In this world of hollow emptiness, in the great state of Great Chen, from top to bottom, people spoke of heavenly mandate descending upon one's body and stars coming down to earth. The Innate Wisdom An Jing had shown from childhood had been deemed by his parents to be an Innate Wisdom Star, and they had valued it greatly. Because Great Chen had founded its nation with martial force and maintained it with law, and both civil and martial paths were the righteous way of this world, they had taught An Jing to read and practice martial arts from a young age, laying a solid foundation and nurturing the strong physique he now possessed. A Destiny Pattern was the core of the Martial Path. Martial Arts flourished in Great Chen. Even a shepherd in the remote frontiers knew a few loose techniques, but the vast majority were merely rustic tricks. Even when a rare folk expert practiced a martial art to mastery, he still lingered outside the Martial Path. Without perfecting the Mind, Body, and Technique, he was still some distance from comprehending Inner Breath and becoming a true Martial Artist. An Jing's mother was a true Martial Artist, having entered the realm of Inner Breath Like Silk. His father was one level higher, possessing Inner Breath Like River; he could release Inner Breath outward, wound enemies, and probe their bones. As for the One-Eyed Leader and the White-Robed Scholar, whom An Jing could not see through at all, they were at the peak of the Inner Breath realm, Inner Breath Like Tide, perfected and effortless, beyond probing. That was the end of mortal Martial Arts. If one could not awaken a Destiny Pattern and use it to refine one's Blood Qi throughout one's body, one could not break through the limits of the Three Nurturings of Inner Breath, nor make the physical shell transform into something wondrous and enter the Five Scenes of Inner Vigor, still less the many realms that followed. Born into a martial family, An Jing naturally understood these things, and his doubts were instantly resolved. 'Could it be that these people are using the disaster to screen for children who might awaken a Destiny Pattern and raise them?' At that thought, An Jing's expression became serious. He took his mother's hand. 'Mother, you must live.' 'The northern barbarians invaded, and Father disappeared at Qingyu Pass, but there has been no confirmation of death. Though I have sold myself, that does not mean I cannot walk freely in the future.' 'Live. No matter what, live first.' 'Only by living is there a future. Only then can we meet again!' As he spoke, An Jing and his mother embraced deeply. After letting go, the youth rose and searched the chest for rice. He smiled and said, 'That leader allowed me to return, which means he permitted me to have one last meal with you... Unexpectedly, he has a bit of human warmth?' 'Mother, eat your fill.' An Shen-shi watched her child before her, already preparing to build a fire and cook rice. Bitterness filled her heart, yet a trace of pride also rose within her. —This child is a gift from heaven to me, Shen Mubai! Emotion surged in her heart. The pill she had swallowed earlier also took effect. Her Blood Qi surged, and An Shen-shi suddenly retched and spat out a mouthful of black blood—the stagnant blood from her damaged Lung Meridian. It proved that her lung injury had improved. The medicine was extraordinary. Such miraculous efficacy was truly inconceivable. Seeing this, An Jing was thoroughly delighted—his mother's strength was actually greater than his own. Now that her Lung Meridian was clear and her Inner Breath restored, ordinary bandits would not be able to approach her! However, recovery still required time... An Jing narrowed his eyes and looked around, sensing many peering gazes. As the fragrance of rice spread, it drew the covetous eyes of many refugees nearby who were already starving. Mingshan City had long since sealed itself off from the refugees, and the relief porridge sheds had closed long ago. The Refugee Camp still existed only because the lands between the Huai and Cui rivers had been blocked by checkpoints. The refugees had nowhere to go and could only remain there, slowly starving to death. This was perhaps the outcome the gentry of Mingshan City and the official gentry of Hanbei Circuit desired. But life always found its own way out—even when some ways out were destined to be dead ends. Among the refugees watching, a few were too bold—or had already been driven mad by hunger. They had lifted their wooden spears and were quietly approaching An Jing's shelter. Earlier, they had stewed a pot of Meat Soup, expecting to fill their bellies that day, but the riders had trampled it and smashed it. Even the meat paste had been snatched up by other refugees. Now that the consumptive wretch of a woman and the skin-and-bones boy had actually received so much grain from those riders, their hearts were completely filled with resentment, jealousy, and hunger. But before they could attack, An Jing stood up. —Jackals. An Jing watched coldly as the refugees approached, their eyes glinting green. In his eyes, those figures holding wooden spears were like jackals and winter wolves closing in around him. Their foul-smelling saliva, crazed eyes, and barely restrained malice rushed at him like the knife-like winter wind. But he had never been afraid. An Jing drew the horse saber he had taken from the bandits and lunged forward. Without hesitation, he aimed at the nearest refugee and slashed down with one stroke! 'Ahhh!!!' With a shrill scream, blood burst from the greedy refugee's shoulder. He staggered back, and the wooden spear fell from his hand. An Jing showed no mercy. He stepped forward and kicked the refugee squarely in the chest with a heart-piercing kick, trampling him to the ground. Then he reversed his grip on the horse saber and forcefully slashed across the man's chest and abdomen! The sound of flesh and organs being cut rang out. Great gouts of blood and foul-smelling filth poured forth, quickly congealing under the frost of the Frost Calamity. Finally, An Jing cut off the refugee's head with a single stroke. Grabbing the dead man's hair, he lifted the head, and amid the screams of the other greedy refugees fleeing in all directions, he hung the head—its eyes still open in death—from the side of the shelter using the man's own wooden spear. 'This head should be enough to buy you time to recover your martial strength, Mother.' When he returned to the shelter, the rice was just cooked. An Jing exchanged looks with An Shen-shi, whose face was filled with relief. He paid no mind to the blood left on his face and clothes. 'With this, Mother will not worry about you being taken advantage of.' An Shen-shi gazed at her son with tenderness and sorrow, reached out, and wiped the blood from An Jing's face. 'Sit down and eat this last meal with Mother.' 'Yes.' Under the fearful gazes of others and the smell of blood, An Jing and his mother slowly finished their last meal in the Refugee Camp. Then came the parting.