Chapter 107: Dreams of the Past

She was walking a mountain trail, her steps light, youthful, full of wonder. Her limbs moved easily, unburdened by the weight of years of training or trauma. She wore plain robes dyed in gentle blue, tied with a crimson sash that fluttered in the wind.

Ahead of her, two men walked side by side.

One of them wore pale gray robes trimmed in silver, his long black hair bound in a neat tail. He exuded wisdom, a quiet authority, and the gentle grace of water—this was Mo Xuan. The other man was clad in more practical attire, darker and simpler, his bearing firm and confident, and his voice louder—this was Ren Wuji.

"Mo Xuan," Ren Wuji was saying, "you're too soft. That little girl has been following us for half the day."

"Her name is Jiang Xue," Mo Xuan replied without looking back. "Her father is an elder of the Verdant Waves Sect. He asked me to give her some guidance."

Ren Wuji scoffed. "Guidance is fine, but she'll get herself killed tailing cultivators like us. We're not sightseeing."

She ran to catch up, her face flushed but determined.

"Please let me come along! I've memorized the Beast Hunting Scrolls! I won't get in your way!"

Ren Wuji looked at her, one brow raised. "And what will you do if we run into danger?"

"I'll stay out of it!" she chirped, puffing out her cheeks.

Mo Xuan offered a smile. "Let her come, Wuji. She's got spirit."

Ren Wuji sighed but said nothing more. Instead, he gestured ahead. "There's a rogue cultivator terrorizing villagers near the Jade Vine Glade. Word is he's stolen several spirit artifacts and has turned to demonic methods. Are you in?"

Mo Xuan nodded. "I'll assist."

Ren Wuji dragged Mo Xuan to move faster. "C'mon, let's move!"

As the two sages increased their pace, Jiang Xue—young, naive, but full of fire—hurried after them.

The trail wound deeper into the forest. Jiang Xue's breath came quick, her sandals crunching over fallen leaves. Though she struggled to keep up, her eyes burned with focus. Her hands trembled slightly, clutching a small scroll case tightly.

"You don't have to prove anything," Mo Xuan said kindly over his shoulder. "Just watch and learn."

"But I want to help," she said. "I don't want to just watch. I want to protect people too."

Ren Wuji grunted. "Then grow stronger. Spirit doesn't mean much when blades are drawn."

They reached the glade by late afternoon. The air was thick with the scent of damp moss and decay. The rogue cultivator had built a crude lair from scavenged stone and bone, Qi-stained remnants littering the clearing.

Jiang Xue watched as Mo Xuan and Ren Wuji confronted the rogue. It was over quickly—a display of elegance and force, precision and dominance. She'd never seen real battle before. The roar of unleashed Qi, the flash of sword-light. It shook her.

Afterward, she stood at the edge of the clearing, stunned.

Ren Wuji glanced back. "Still want to follow us, girl?"

Jiang Xue nodded, her eyes wide with reverence and determination. "More than ever."

Mo Xuan smiled softly. "Then perhaps one day, you'll surpass us both."

The forest fell away. The light dimmed.

Yin Shuang stirred, her breathing uneven.

She woke in the dark.

The moon hung heavy over the mountaintop like a silver sentinel. Its pale light spilled through the paper windows of Yin Shuang's private chamber, brushing the walls in soft luminescence. Yin Shuang lay on her side atop the woven straw mat, her breathing even and calm, her expression unreadable in sleep. But behind her closed eyelids, her mind swam in light and memory.

For a moment, she didn't move. The images still lingered in her mind: Ren Wuji's sharp voice, Mo Xuan's calm wisdom, the breathless rush of a younger version of herself—no, her mother—trying to keep up.

She sat up slowly, brushing her sweat-slicked hair from her face.

The room was still, the silence broken only by the occasional cry of a nightbird outside. She looked over to where the Peerless Sword rested in its sheath, propped against a wooden rack beside the wall.

"You showed me this, didn't you?" she whispered to the blade. "Why?"

She reached for the weapon, her fingers trailing across its hilt.

The blade hummed softly beneath her touch—not aloud, but through her spirit. It was as if something within the sword stirred when she acknowledged it.

Yin's gaze softened. "You've been quiet lately. But now you're showing me visions of the past. Visions of my mother… Why?"

She rose to her feet, drawing the sword halfway from its sheath. The moonlight caught its gleam, illuminating the delicate runes etched into its metal. For a heartbeat, it felt as though someone were standing behind her—a gentle hand on her shoulder, a whisper of breath on her ear.

"My mother…" she murmured.

It made sense. The Peerless Sword had once belonged to Jiang Xue. Its spiritual resonance must still carry echoes of her past. But why now? What was the purpose of these visions?

Her thoughts turned to Kai Feng.

It had been several months since they'd parted after Han Long's sacrifice. The memory of it was still a raw wound, but time had begun to scab over it. Yin Shuang had returned to the Heavenly Radiance Sect, and Kai had remained to lead the Obsidian Peak Sect. Letters were rare. Contact rarer.

She missed him.

There had been something unspoken between them—something fragile, blooming amidst chaos and pain. And now, in the quiet of this solitary night, her heart ached with the longing to see him again.

"I wonder," she said to the sword, her voice barely above a whisper. "Is this your way of reminding me where I came from? Of what she left behind?"

She sheathed the sword and stepped out onto the balcony, the wind brushing through her robes.

The sky stretched wide and silent, stars glimmering like forgotten dreams.

Yin Shuang lifted her face to the moon.

Somewhere out there, Kai was training. Cultivating. Enduring. Preparing.

And somewhere deep within her, something stirred—an instinct, a premonition.

This was not the end.

Something more was coming.

She had to be ready.

And perhaps… it was time to return.

And as she turned back into the quiet chamber, her heart steady, she whispered to herself, "It felt like it was more than a dream. I was her. I was Jiang Xue, my mother…"