Farewell

When An Shen Shi saw An Jing return to the shack with an entire chest of grain and medicinal herbs on his back, she understood everything and burst into tears.

She had more experience than An Jing. When she saw the convoy, and later the white-robed scholar who came to observe them, she had already sensed danger and roughly guessed why he had come to look her over.

Now An Jing had returned with a chest full of herbs and grain. How could she not know that her child had caught the eye of those great figures, sold her out, and received this money to buy her life?

"Jing'er." She tried to sit up. An Jing hurriedly set down the chest and held his mother, gently helping her sit upright. An Shen Shi wept. "I've ruined your life... I've ruined your life..."

"My son is one of the finest sons of good families in the Northern Frontier. If these people really are from a great household, then so be it. But if they're some evil gang or cultists who saw your talent and bought you while I was weak, I... I'd rather die!"

"Mother." An Jing's voice softened, rare for him. He sighed. "Without you, how could I have crossed the wasteland unharmed?"

"Without you, your child would have died months ago—by the banks of the Huai River, in the ruins of Anmin County, or beneath the blades of bandits on the wasteland!"

"What is my life worth compared to saving yours? Besides, if these people really are some evil cult or faction and wanted me to bring harm to the world, I'd never agree. At most, I'd repay them tenfold or a hundredfold in money and grain, then save their lives someday."

"I'll look for a chance to escape. I'll never join them in their evil deeds and disgrace the generations of upright ancestors of the An Family!"

"Let's not think about that for now. Look, this chest is full of herbs to nourish the lungs and ease the breath, as well as Blood-Activating Pills and Lung-Healing Pills... Take them quickly. By tonight at the latest, you'll be able to gather your Internal Breath again and return to the ranks of martial artists!"

After gently soothing his mother, who was heartbroken for him, An Jing took a small porcelain bottle from the supplies and looked expectantly at An Shen Shi. However sorrowful a woman might be, under her child's gaze she could only take out a pale-red pill and swallow it.

Seeing his mother take the medicine, An Jing smiled faintly and earnestly reminded her, "Mother, now that you have these medicines and food, once you've regained your strength, head south. Go around the checkpoints, and don't stop."

"This Frost Calamity is greater and fiercer than any before it. Everything north of Broken Blade Mountain is unsafe. Mingshan City... may be doomed too."

"If you wait until then to leave, it'll be too late. If all the millions in Mingshan City become refugees, none of the prefectures in Hanbei Province will be safe. You'll have to keep going south, all the way to Broken Blade Mountain and the Linjiang border... Go early. With your strength, Mother, you'll certainly be able to establish yourself there."

"I understand." An Shen Shi nodded too. The child had been clever since he was young and always had a mind of his own. Even his father often listened to his suggestions, and part of the An Family's fortune had come from An Jing's advice. Naturally, she would not dismiss him lightly.

"But what about you?" As his mother, An Shen Shi never thought of her own future. She looked at her child, her heart full of worry. "Jing'er, what about you?"

"Me? Don't worry."

An Jing had expected his mother to worry about him, and answered smoothly, "Whoever these people are, whether they're a wealthy clan buying servants or the authorities or a sect raising death warriors, they need people alive."

"The fact that they were willing to give us these herbs as payment for our lives proves it. We may have some 'important value' that even we don't know about. Your child will certainly have a chance to live."

At that, An Jing suddenly froze.

Some important value they didn't even know about? What value could the children in this refugee camp possibly have? Would they be sold to be eaten, becoming rice and meat in another refugee's pot? Or were they simply a burden to their families?

That might be true of him. He did have some ability. But the other children—aside from being tough enough to survive, what else did they have?

Tough enough to survive...

That was right. Tough enough to survive... that was it!

An Jing suddenly understood.

In this world of Huaixu, the great nation of Da Chen, everyone from top to bottom believed that Heaven's Fate descended upon them, and that the stars came down to earth.

The Past Life Wisdom An Jing had displayed from childhood had led his parents to believe he was a star from a past life. They had cherished him and treated him with great importance. Since Da Chen had been founded through the Martial Dao and governed by law, and both the civil and martial paths were considered righteous in this world, they had taught An Jing to read and practice martial arts from an early age, laying a solid foundation and forging the fine body he now possessed.

The Fate Grid was the core of the Martial Dao.

Martial arts flourished in Da Chen. Even shepherds in remote borderlands knew a few simple moves, but most were merely village tricks.

Even the occasional folk expert who trained a martial art to the point of mastery still remained outside the Martial Dao. Their Heart-Body-Technique was not yet perfected, and they were still some distance from comprehending Internal Breath and becoming true martial artists.

An Jing's mother was a true martial artist, having reached the Like Silk Realm of Internal Breath. His father had gone even further, reaching the Internal Breath Like a River realm, able to release Internal Breath from his body to wound others 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 stood at the peak of the Internal Breath realm: Tide of Internal Breath. Their power flowed in perfect harmony, making them impossible to fathom.

That was the end point of mortal martial arts.

Without awakening and using one's Fate Grid to refine the blood and energy throughout the body, one could not break through the limits of the Three Nourishments of Internal Breath and transform the mortal body into something Divine Anomaly. One could not enter the Five Scenes of Internal Strengthening, much less reach the many realms beyond.

Born into a martial family, An Jing naturally knew all this, and his doubts vanished. "Could these people be using the disaster to select children who might awaken their Fate Grids and train them?"

At the thought, An Jing's expression grew solemn. He clasped his mother's hand. "Mother, you must survive."

"The Northern Barbarians invaded, and Father went missing at Qingyu Pass, but his death was never confirmed. Though I've sold myself, that doesn't mean I won't be able to walk free someday."

"Survive. No matter what, survive first."

"Only by surviving can we have a future, and meet again!"

As he spoke, An Jing and his mother embraced tightly.

When they let go, the boy stood and searched the chest for rice, smiling as he said, "The leader let me come back so I could share one last meal with you... He's unexpectedly got a bit of a heart?"

"Mother, let's have a good, filling meal."

An Shen Shi watched her child prepare to light a fire and cook the rice. Her heart ached with unspeakable sorrow, yet a flicker of pride rose within her.

—This is the son Heaven bestowed upon me, Shen Mubai!

Her emotions surged. The pill she had swallowed earlier had also begun to take effect, setting her blood and energy rushing. Suddenly, An Shen Shi coughed up a mouthful of black blood—that was the congested blood from her damaged lung meridians, proof that her lung injury had begun to heal.

The medicine was astonishingly effective. Such miraculous results were truly incredible.

Seeing this, An Jing was delighted too. His mother was actually stronger than he was. Now that her lung meridians were clear and her Internal Breath had recovered, ordinary bandits would not be able to get near her!

But she would still need time to recover...

An Jing narrowed his eyes and looked around, sensing the many prying eyes.

The fragrance of rice drew the attention of the starving refugees nearby.

Mingshan City had sealed itself off from the refugees long ago, and the relief porridge stations had already shut down. The refugee camp still existed only because the checkpoints had blocked off the lands between the Huai River and the Cuijiang River. With nowhere else to go, all the refugees could do was remain here and slowly starve to death.

Perhaps that was exactly what the gentry of Mingshan City and the officials of Hanbei Province wanted.

But life always found a way out, even if some roads led straight to a dead end.

Among the refugees watching, a few had grown too bold—or had gone so hungry they had lost their reason. They had already raised their wooden spears and were quietly approaching An Jing's shack.

Earlier, they had boiled a pot of "meat soup," thinking they would finally get a full meal today, only for the riders to trample and smash it. Other refugees had snatched up and carried off even the scraps of meat.

Now this consumptive woman and her scrawny son had actually gotten so much food from the riders. Their hearts were completely consumed by resentment, envy, and hunger.

But before they could attack, An Jing had already stood up.

—Jackals.

An Jing watched the approaching refugees, their eyes gleaming green, without emotion.

In his eyes, the figures carrying wooden spears were like jackals and winter wolves closing in around him. Their stinking drool, crazed eyes, and barely restrained malice rushed toward him like the knife-sharp winds of winter.

But he had never been afraid.

An Jing drew the blade he had taken from the bandits and lunged forward, slashing without hesitation at the nearest refugee!

"Ahhh!!!"

A shrill scream rang out as a spray of blood burst from the greedy refugee's shoulder. He stumbled backward, his wooden spear falling to the ground. An Jing showed no mercy. He stepped forward and drove a kick into the man's chest, stomping him to the ground. Then he reversed his grip on the saber and slashed hard across the man's chest and abdomen!

The sound of flesh and organs being cut apart rang out. Great gouts of blood and foul fluids spilled out, quickly freezing beneath the frost of the Frost Calamity.

At the end, An Jing cut off the refugee's head. Grabbing him by the hair, he held the head aloft as the other greedy refugees fled in every direction, screaming. Then he hung the dead-eyed head from the side of the shack, using its owner's own wooden spear.

"This head should buy enough time for you to recover your strength, Mother."

When An Jing returned to the shack, the rice was just done. He met An Shen Shi's gaze, full of approval, and paid no mind to the blood left on his face and clothes.

"Now I don't have to worry about you being bullied." An Shen Shi looked at her son tenderly, with a touch of sadness, and reached out to wipe the blood from his face. "Sit down and eat this last meal with me."

"Mm."

With fearful eyes watching and the stench of blood in the air, An Jing and his mother slowly finished their last meal in the refugee camp.

Then came their parting.