Chapter 12: Mo ren

At the gates of the human kingdom, the bustle of life unfolded before Yueqing's curious eyes. Just beyond the towering archway lay a lively marketplace, brimming with vendors hawking colorful goods and fragrant delicacies.

"Wow... This kind of market doesn't exist in Tianhua Realms," Yueqing whispered in awe as she stepped lightly through the crowds, her gaze shifting from vibrant fabrics to steaming food stalls.

Her journey took a slight detour when she turned toward the forested path behind the city, but just before reaching it, she caught sight of something that stopped her in her tracks.

At the edge of a housing district, she spotted a group of boys surrounding a small, frail girl.

"Hahaha! Useless orphan!" one of the boys jeered before shoving the girl harshly.

"Filthy!" another shouted, making a face of disgust. The little girl began to cry, shielding her face with trembling hands.

Yueqing's heart clenched. She strode forward without hesitation.

"Hey! You brats! Leave her alone!" she called out firmly.

The boys turned to her with sneers. "Who are you? Another mountain rat like her? Hahaha!"

Yueqing didn't flinch. She smiled calmly, raising one finger. With a simple flick, she summoned a small gust of wind—one of the basic wind arts her grandfather Ziyan had taught her.

Suddenly, a flurry of bird droppings soared through the air and splattered across the boys' faces.

"Aaaah!! She used sorcery! Let's get outta here! Smells like death!" they screamed, fleeing in terror.

Yueqing chuckled lightly and knelt beside the crying girl. "Don't be afraid. They won't bother you anymore."

The girl looked up slowly, her tear-streaked face full of confusion.

"What's your name?" Yueqing asked, smiling.

The girl shook her head. "I don't have one."

Yueqing gasped softly. "Then… how about I give you a special one?" She paused thoughtfully. "From now on, you're Ling'er."

The girl blinked, then gave a small, shy smile.

As Yueqing resumed her journey, she noticed the girl following close behind. "Aiyaaa… My path is dangerous. You shouldn't follow me," she scolded gently. But Ling'er paid no mind, her tiny feet persistent.

With no other choice, Yueqing sighed. "Fine, but you better not fall behind."

As they walked, Yueqing glanced over her shoulder. "Ling'er, can I ask... how old are you? And why do you want to come with me?"

Ling'er's voice trembled. "My family was punished and executed for gambling. I ran away. I'm twelve."

Yueqing reached out and rested a hand on the girl's shoulder. "You've been strong. As long as I'm here, I'll protect you."

---

Meanwhile, deep beneath the surface of the mortal realm, in a hidden cavern only visible to immortals or deities, Mo Ren battled for survival.

The cave echoed with the clang of metal, the roars of monsters, and the rumble of shattered stone. He stood in the heart of chaos, his sword flashing like lightning against the darkness.

"Cowards!" he shouted, dodging an incoming strike.

A horde of demons, underlings of Baihao, lunged at him, their grotesque forms snarling with bloodlust.

"Look who's talking!" one hissed. "The traitor abandoned by his own kind! Hahaha!"

Mo Ren's eyes blazed with fury. He tightened his grip around his sword—an ancient weapon forged with fire and imbued with a dragon's breath.

"I wasn't abandoned. I was betrayed!" he roared.

With a sudden burst of energy, his blade ignited with blazing flames. A spectral dragon circled him, its roar shaking the cavern. The heat of his fury burned through the stone floor as he unleashed his Level Ten Sword Art: Dragonfire Vortex.

The flames surged forth, devouring several demons in a fiery blaze. Their screams echoed before fading into silence. Smoke coiled in the air, and the cave briefly lit with the inferno's glow.

Only one demon remained, injured but grinning. It was smarter, faster—a direct servant of Baihao.

"Even with power, you're still just a shadow of your father," the demon sneered before vanishing into a veil of black mist.

"Coward! You caused all of this!" Mo Ren shouted after it.

He dropped to his knees, panting, blood dripping from his side. His clothes were torn, his arms bruised. He gritted his teeth in frustration, his chest rising and falling.

"How am I supposed to prove my innocence... if the truth keeps slipping through my fingers..."

In that moment of silence, surrounded by charred corpses and echoes of battle, Mo Ren bowed his head.

He wasn't defeated, but the burden was growing heavier. Still, a name crossed his mind—a gentle voice, a warm smile.

"Yueqing..."

And in that whisper, hope flickered anew.

As the crimson-stained figure of Mo Ren staggered down the rocky path at the foot of the mountain, his breath ragged and his hand dripping with blood—both his own and that of his enemies—he suddenly froze. Standing just ahead of him was Yueqing. Her wide eyes locked with his, a flash of disbelief washing over her delicate features. Without a word, without even thinking, Yueqing rushed forward and threw her arms around him, embracing him tightly with trembling hands. Mo Ren's body tensed in shock, not from pain, but from the sudden warmth enveloping him. For a moment, the world grew silent—the wind ceased, the pain dulled, and the heaviness of battle vanished. His heart thundered against his chest, louder than the clash of swords he had faced. His face flushed slightly, caught between the ache of exhaustion and the overwhelming rush of emotion. He had no words—only the pulse in his chest and the softness of her hold reminded him that he was still human. And in that moment, for the first time, Mo Ren felt truly seen.