Zhang Siyu, too, had knelt in the Ancestral Hall for an entire night.
When the sky began to pale, she braced herself against the doorframe and stood.
Her knees hurt so badly she could barely take a step.
She lowered her head and glanced at the two blue bricks she had knelt on all night.
Bending down, she picked up her canvas bag and slung it over her back.
Then she pushed open the hall doors and headed down the mountain.
She wanted to know whether what she had seen at Wen Ning's place was an exception, or whether all monsters were like that.
She wanted to experience it for herself.
Before leaving, she left Zhang Qingxuan a letter: Dad, I'm going down the mountain. I'm not trying to upset you. I want to see things for myself, and I want you to understand that the weasel you encountered back then was evil.
But Xiong Batian isn't. Carp isn't, and neither is Stone Spirit. Mom's sword protected me. From now on, my sword will protect the monsters who don't deserve to be slaughtered.
Not because they need protecting, but because I don't want you to keep making the same mistake. When you're willing to listen, I'll tell you about it.
Siyu
She folded the paper and placed it beside the wild fruit, then swung her bag over her shoulder.
Pushing open the courtyard gate, she headed down the mountain.
The early morning mountain breeze carried the scent of pine trees and dew.
Her ponytail swayed in the morning light.
She didn't look back.
Not because she didn't care, but because she knew the path she needed to take lay beyond the mountain.
Back in the Ancestral Hall, Zhang Xuanqing pushed open the doors, ready to tell Zhang Siyu she could