Moving House

The rain tonight was exceptionally heavy, with the storm outside furiously lashing against the windows as if enraged. However, the room remained warm.

The heat generated by Cassifa's burning dispelled the chill, and the crackling sound of the burning firewood provided a white noise that induced drowsiness.

Having been busy all day, Alicia had fallen asleep exceptionally early.

There were only two rooms upstairs; one belonged to Shaya, and the other was given to Arthur. Since Alicia had some difficulty with her legs, staying downstairs was best.

Shaya found a folding bed and a mattress in the building's storage room and placed them in the arched space beneath the stairs. He then nailed a bedsheet to the ceiling beams to serve as a curtain, creating a makeshift room that felt quite proper.

She had cleaned the first floor spotlessly today, and it was close to Cassifa, making it warm. The sleeping environment here was even better than upstairs.

Shaya sat in his usual chair, warming himself by the fire, lost in thought.

He had spent the entire day experiencing death and witnessing much sorrow and separation. It was a deeply oppressive process; someone with a weaker mental fortitude might even develop psychological issues from it.

But Shaya did not. Instead, he was terrifyingly calm, his heart completely undisturbed.

This was likely because his heart was not currently with him.

This wasn't a simple loss of good and evil, or desire.

His behavioral logic still followed the values and habits formed over the twenty-plus years before he lost his heart.

The difference was that he no longer felt satisfaction from doing good, nor shame from doing evil. He didn't feel sorrow for the misfortunes of others; he had lost his empathy.

Although, on the surface, this made his actions and demeanor a bit more composed.

But if one looked at the entire timeline, when his life after losing his heart surpassed those twenty-plus years, he couldn't imagine what he would become.

Zhuangzi used the concept of 'forgetting' as the secret to achieving 'freedom,' forgetting oneself, forgetting emotions, forgetting things, and so on. In the book Zhuangzi, the word 'forget' appears over eighty times.

Shaya's current state was very similar to Zhuangzi's 'forgetting,' which gave him an air of transcendence.

It was akin to the state of "Supreme Forgetting of Emotions" described in many cultivation novels.

However, in reality, 'forgetting' is not 'nothingness'; many people confuse the two.

Forgetting emotions is not being emotionless, but rather "having emotions without being burdened by them."

Ordinary people are either cold and unfeeling, unable to appreciate the warmth of the world, or they are so deeply emotional that they become lost and self-pitying.

Those who forget their emotions have feelings but are not bound by them; they are deeply affectionate without being hurt by their affections.

When Zhuangzi's wife died, he sang while beating a basin, believing his wife was merely accompanying him in a different form. True affection in the world is already rare, yet to demand it last forever is a delusion.

Between people, there is either separation in life or parting in death. This is human destiny.

Understanding this point makes one more open-minded, and this openness from letting go of attachments is 'forgetting emotions.'

Shaya, however, was currently somewhere between forgetting emotions and being emotionless, perhaps even leaning towards 'emotionless.' In the future, perhaps only the responsibility given by that old man would remain.

This was not 'freedom' but more like a machine operating according to a program.

Of course, if that day ever came, it would likely be a long time from now.

Shaya silently stood up and walked to the side. He reached out and pulled aside the curtain, revealing the sleeping face of the girl.

Alicia lay on the mattress, sleeping on her side, wearing her pajamas and covered by a comfortable quilt.

As a curse manifested by the mind, her appearance reverted to its past form after falling into a deep sleep at night.

Her raven-black hair spread out like clouds, her face bore the fatigue of the day.

His gaze swept over her eyelashes, which fluttered like resting butterflies, and her lips, as warm and moist as crabapple blossoms. The flickering firelight outlined the superior contours of her features.

Although Shaya no longer had his heart, it didn't prevent him from appreciating beautiful things.

He raised his hand, and from the clothes hanging by her side, a small piece of paper flew out. It didn't touch Shaya's hand but hovered in his palm.

Holding the paper, he sat down in front of Cassifa.

"What is that?" Cassifa asked, gazing at the white paper in Shaya's hand.

It seemed to have discovered something and began to read the words on it.

"Chasing fire in the open, tears flow in secret, your heart is my possession."

"Hoo~"

As Cassifa read the words, the paper instantly ignited and then fell to the ground.

"Very ancient magic," Cassifa commented. "And quite potent. Whose is it?"

"It was on Alicia. Whose do you think it was?" Shaya asked calmly.

"The Wilderness Witch?" Cassifa's flame flickered a bit larger. "Then doesn't she know my location now?"

"Her approximate location," Shaya murmured softly. "She should be arriving at Eagle's Horn Port soon."

Cassifa's flame turned blue, showing clear alarm. It then asked, "What are you going to do?"

"If I recall correctly, she also has a fire demon, right?" Shaya asked.

Cassifa fell into thought. "I believe so."

"A fire demon..." Shaya murmured. "In the novels, the Wilderness Witch's fire demon was out of control and controlled her instead, but the movies didn't mention that."

"There's that possibility," Cassifa said. "This might also explain why she desperately wanted your heart; she needs a younger contracted partner."

"How confident are you?" Shaya asked.

"She's old, but experienced. I'm younger and stronger," Cassifa replied.

Shaya pondered for a moment before saying, "No rush. Let's move out of Eagle's Horn Port first."

"Move house?" Cassifa exclaimed, a hint of panic in its voice.

Its true form within the hearth was incredibly fragile. Without firewood, or even a basin of water, it could be killed. Moving would likely cost it half its life.

"It's fine," Shaya said. "The Wilderness Witch or moving house – you can choose. If you don't want to, fine by me. I don't mind."

"Damn it!" Cassifa wailed and burrowed back into the firewood. If moving was losing half its life, falling into the Wilderness Witch's hands would mean losing it entirely.

"Moving isn't just to avoid her," Shaya continued. "There are three people in the castle now. We can't have Alicia sleeping in the stairwell every day. I'm not her wicked aunt."

He paused, then added, "Time is on our side. The longer we wait, the stronger I become."

Cassifa emerged again and asked, "When do you plan to move?"

"I need to find the locations of the other entrances first," Shaya said. "I want to rent a shop, preferably with a large courtyard as one of the entrances. I already have a choice for the latter, though."

As he spoke, Shaya glanced again at the bed where Alicia slept, then turned his gaze to the box on the table.

The box was exquisitely crafted, adorned with beautiful reliefs, clearly a masterpiece. Even the materials used were precious.

This was what Shaya had brought from the royal palace, the "reward" Moria had given him.

Shaya stood up, silently picked up the box, and carried it to the second floor.