CHAPTER 10 . A deep-seated grudge-1

Leaving the Immortal Realm, Qingying stepped lightly onto the path leading home. Her heart swelled with complex emotions.

Her gaze wandered over the familiar mountains, as if nothing had changed. Behind her, Chuyang followed silently, a mere newcomer to this land.

As Qingying drew closer to her hometown, anticipation and excitement grew within her. Though her expression remained calm, the warmth and resolve in her eyes betrayed her inner turbulence.

"I'm finally home..."

She murmured to herself, a tender light flashing through her eyes.

Chuyang, noticing the shift in her demeanor, stepped forward and asked softly, "How do you feel, seeing your home again?"

Qingying hesitated for a moment before turning to gaze at the distant mountains, her voice tinged with nostalgia. "This is where I grew up. My grandfather raised me."

Her tone carried a deep sense of longing and sorrow.

"I never had parents. My grandfather was my only family, my sole support."

Chuyang listened in silence, his heart stirring with empathy.

Qingying had always projected strength, yet beneath it lay hidden sorrow and loneliness. A childhood without parents, relying only on an aging grandfather—she had endured an existence defined by solitude and resilience.

"I see..."

Chuyang nodded, his voice carrying a trace of sympathy. "Your grandfather must have meant everything to you."

Qingying smiled faintly, the warmth in her eyes quickly replaced by steely determination. "Yes. He has always been my pillar. Though he is old, he has always been my greatest support."

Despite the villagers' unease toward her half-mortal, half-celestial bloodline, Qingying's love for her home remained unwavering. She longed to see her grandfather once more.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward toward the village center, her expression softening slightly.

But as she reached the village entrance, everything changed.

The once lively village now lay in ruins. Houses had collapsed, many still smoldering. The cries of women and children echoed through the wreckage, and charred bodies lay motionless near their homes.

The air was thick with the stench of decay, as if an unspeakable darkness had swallowed the entire village.

Qingying froze, her anticipation turning to horror.

Her eyes widened as she took in the gruesome sight of corpses piled in the village square, their blood soaking the earth.

Then she saw him—her grandfather, lying lifeless among them, his face streaked with blood, his eyes empty and unseeing.

"Grandfather!"

A piercing sorrow tore through Qingying's heart. Her legs weakened, and she stumbled forward, collapsing beside his cold, lifeless body. With trembling hands, she reached out to touch his face, now devoid of warmth.

A deep, searing pain shattered her soul, leaving her breathless.

Chuyang, equally stunned, stepped forward. Though shaken, he forced himself to remain composed. "Qingying, we can't stay here. It's too dangerous."

Tears blurred Qingying's vision as she whispered, her voice breaking, "Grandfather... I should have listened. I shouldn't have left. I should have stayed by your side... Who did this? Who is responsible? I will make them pay!"

Holding her grandfather's body close, she let out an anguished cry.

Chuyang stood beside her, unsure of how to console her. He understood the depths of her grief and fury, so he simply placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "We will find them. And they will answer for this."

Just then, the sound of galloping hooves shattered the silence.

A dust cloud rose in the distance as dozens of riders sped away, their laughter ringing through the air.

"Hah! What a haul!"

One of the bandits glanced back at the burning village, sneering. "Those foolish villagers actually thought they could fight back? Pathetic! Hahaha!"

Chuyang's eyes narrowed, rage simmering beneath his calm exterior.

Qingying inhaled sharply, her hands clenching into fists. 

"Are those the ones..." she whispered, her voice cold, "who killed my grandfather?"

Chuyang nodded slightly. "Judging by their smugness, it must be them."

Qingying gritted her teeth, her sorrow morphing into blazing fury. "They are as good as dead."

Chuyang smirked, his voice steady yet laced with steel. "I'll fight by your side."

But Qingying didn't acknowledge his words. Her gaze remained locked on the distant horizon, on the village that had once been her home.

She had grown up without parents, her grandfather being the only family she had ever known. And now, she was to bury him here, in the very land that had raised her.

By dusk, they had laid her grandfather to rest.

Kneeling before his grave, Qingying pressed her palms together. Grief filled her eyes, yet she shed no tears.

She knew crying would not change anything. Only vengeance—only blood repaid with blood—could ease the storm within her heart.

Chuyang stood silently beside her.

For the first time, he saw the cracks in her usual composure. Though she rarely showed her vulnerabilities, here, at this gravesite, he could feel her pain and loneliness in full force.

No matter what, he would not let her face this alone.

When Qingying finally rose, her expression was calm, her resolve unwavering. Chuyang stepped forward, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Let's go. No one will stand in our way."

She nodded without a word and turned away, her steps firm and resolute.

She didn't look back. There was no point in lingering on what was lost. Only revenge could bring her peace.

Chuyang followed closely behind, matching her pace.

He saw the cold determination in her eyes and silently acknowledged it.

Qingying's strength surpassed what most could fathom.