A Heart Laid Bare on a Moonlit Night · The Crescent Moon's Heart Knot
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Moonlight Pavilion's days were very quiet.
Nan Feng stayed in the west wing for half a month. Every morning he would regulate his killing intent in the Meditation Grounds and practice his boxing in the courtyard in the evening. Tang Yuehua never interfered with his cultivation and would appear under the bamboo pavilion on time every day, releasing that moonlight-like fluctuation.
The rest of the time, she taught a few noble children etiquette and the basics of Soul Power in the front hall, or sat alone under the plum tree reading.
Moonlight Pavilion had few servants. There was an old servant who swept and cleaned, and a woman who cooked. They were both ordinary people without Soul Power.
Nan Feng stayed for half a month without seeing any Soul Master visit. Moonlight Pavilion seemed to be a forgotten corner of Heaven Dou City.
The two didn't talk much; it was mostly just a few simple exchanges before and after their cultivation practice.
"The killing intent is weaker today than yesterday."
"The texture of the Meditation Grounds requires regular maintenance."
They were all trivial matters. Nan Feng noticed that Tang Yuehua's gaze was always probing whenever she looked at him.
On the evening of the eighth day, after finishing her cultivation, Tang Yuehua suddenly asked a question.
Who braided that red ribbon you're wearing?
Nan Feng glanced down at her left wrist. The knot in the rope gleamed a dark red in the setting sun.
"A friend," he said.
Tang Yuehua nodded without asking further questions. Her gaze lingered on the hairband for a few moments before shifting away.
On the morning of the twelfth day, Nan Feng was cultivating on the Meditation Grounds when he sensed an abnormality in Tang Yuehua's Soul Power fluctuations. The fluctuations were 20% weaker than usual, and the rhythm was unstable.
He opened his eyes. Tang Yuehua stood under the bamboo pavilion, her right hand pressed against her chest, her face paler than usual.
A letter lay on the stone table. The envelope was dark blue, and the sealing wax had been removed.
Tang Yuehua noticed his gaze, lowered her hand, and shook her head at him. Her fingers were trembling.
Nan Feng did not ask any further questions.
The night of the fifteenth day.
The moon was full, and the autumn air was crisp and clear. The moonlight made the white sand and pebbles in the backyard look like they were covered with a thin layer of snow.
After finishing his cultivation, Nan Feng sat down under the plum tree. The night wind blew in from the north, carrying the dry chill of the Withered Bones Mountain Range.
He sat there, his consciousness sinking into the Tower Spirit Space to examine the operational route of the Mountain Suppression Art.
The Divine Slaughter's Domain lay dormant deep within his soul. The dark red killing intent and the golden Primordial World Power had completely merged, forming a domain with sealing properties.
The gap at the entrance to the third level of the tower widened slightly. The Power of Creation seeped out from the gap, repairing the minor damage to the meridians.
"You're still awake?"
Tang Yuehua's voice came from behind. Nan Feng opened his eyes and turned around. She was carrying a pot of tea and two teacups, walking from the direction of the hall.
The moonlight shone on her plain-colored long dress. She walked silently on the gravel.
"The moon is beautiful tonight." Tang Yuehua walked to the stone table, put down the teapot and teacups, and said, "Would you like to have a cup of tea with me?"
Nan Feng stood up and walked to the stone table to sit down. Tang Yuehua poured him a cup, and then poured one for herself. The tea shimmered with a pale gold hue under the moonlight.
The two drank tea for a while.
Tang Yuehua held her teacup, her gaze fixed on the old plum trees, and remained silent for a long time.
"Nan Feng," she spoke, her voice lower than usual, "The power within your soul is very special."
Nan Feng put down his teacup and looked at her.
Tang Yuehua didn't turn her head; her gaze remained fixed on the plum tree. Her profile was serene in the moonlight, and the melancholy between her brows was even more pronounced than during the day.
"I've seen many Soul Master and many kinds of Martial Soul. Your Tower Martial Soul isn't an ordinary Tool Martial Soul; its origin contains a power even more ancient than Soul Power."
She paused for a moment.
She turned her head to look at Nan Feng.
"That power, in my Moonlight Martial Soul's perception, is like a star that has been dormant for a long time. Where do you come from?"
Nan Feng looked at her. Moonlight shone from behind her, outlining her silhouette with a silver edge.
"A very far place," Nan Feng said.
Tang Yuehua smiled, a bitter smile. She looked down at the tea in her cup.
"I also have a place very far away," she said softly, "But I can't go."
"Why?"
Tang Yuehua remained silent for a long time, so long that Nan Feng thought she wouldn't answer. The night wind blew withered leaves onto her shoulder, but she didn't brush them away. Her hand holding the teacup tightened, her knuckles turning white.
"Because there's someone there," she finally spoke, her voice like she was saying something long buried, "I can't see him. Society won't allow it."
Nan Feng did not respond.
He had long suspected something. Tang Yuehua never married and spent her entire life guarding Moonlight Pavilion.
Her Soul Power is permanently stuck at level 9, also because of this unresolved issue. Her Martial Soul Origin cannot grow normally due to emotional repression.
Upon hearing the phrase "unacceptable to the world," a name came to mind.
Tang Hao.
Her second brother.
The teapot on the stone table was still steaming. Nan Feng picked up the teacup and took a sip.
"Your Soul Power is stuck at level 9," Nan Feng said calmly.
Tang Yuehua's hand trembled slightly, and a little tea spilled out.
"It's not because your Martial Soul is flawed," Nan Feng said. "The Martial Soul Origin is very pure, without any congenital damage. But the core is tightly wrapped by something, and that thing carries repressed emotions."
Tang Yuehua looked up at him.
"Your Martial Soul Origin is suppressed by your inner conflict." Nan Feng looked directly into her eyes. "You see that person every day, yet you know you can never get close. You've suppressed your feelings for decades. This suppression has traveled from the soul level to the Martial Soul level, locking the Martial Soul Core."
Tang Yuehua's lips moved. She opened her mouth, then lowered her head, burying her face behind the teacup. In the moonlight, her shoulders trembled.
"Your Soul Power is stuck at level 9," Nan Feng's voice was steady, "Because your heart is stuck."
The teacup slipped from Tang Yuehua's hand, tapped on the edge of the stone table, rolled onto the white sand, and shattered into pieces. Tea seeped into the sand.
She looked up, her eyes red-rimmed, but no tears fell.
Nan Feng neither pressed for answers nor offered any comfort. He simply sat on the stone bench and waited.
After a long time, Tang Yuehua's breathing calmed down. She squatted down and picked up the fragments one by one, placing them on the corner of the stone table. Her movements were very slow.
"You're right." Her voice regained its calmness, though it was hoarseer than before. "My Martial Soul Origin is indeed locked. I know why, but I can't unlock it."
She stood up and looked at the Nan Feng. The moonlight shone on her reddened eyes, but there were no tear stains.
"That golden light in your soul, I sense it carries the aura of creation," she said. "The Power of Creation can repair the Martial Soul Origin, right?"
The Nan Feng nodded.
Tang Yuehua remained silent for a moment, then shook her head.
"No need. My essence isn't locked too tightly. It will naturally recover when I untie the knot in my heart."
She turned and walked towards the hall. After a few steps, she paused and looked back at Nan Feng.
"Nan Feng, thank you for not asking further."
Nan Feng watched her walk into the hall. The wooden door closed, and moonlight fell on the threshold.
The few pieces of broken porcelain on the stone table are still there. The tea has seeped into the white sand and gravel.
The Old Huai's voice rang out in the Tower Spirit Space.
"This woman's Martial Soul Origin does indeed have flaws. But compared to the flaws in her Martial Soul, her inner knots run deeper. The Power of Creation can repair Martial Soul, but it cannot repair her heart. She must untie these knots herself; no one else can help her."
Nan Feng picked up the now-cold teacup and took a sip. The tea was bitter, with a lingering sweetness. He put down the teacup, stood up, and walked towards the west wing.
The moonlight shone on his back, and the red ribbon on his left wrist fluttered in the night breeze. He pushed open the door, entered the room, and closed it.
He sat on the bed, his eyes closed. The Divine Slaughter's Domain lay dormant deep within his soul, and the operating path of the first chapter of the Mountain Suppression Art was clear and stable.
His Soul Power remained at level 30. The Primordial World Power within his meridians was condensing, and its density was even higher than when he was in the Slaughter City.
Tang Yuehua sat under the lamp in the hall. An open book lay before her, and her gaze fell on the old plum trees outside the window.
The shadows of branches and leaves swayed on the white sand and gravel.
She stretched out her hand. In her palm, the illusory image of a crescent moon emerged, its edges jagged, as if it had been cut in half.
She stared at the crescent moon for a long, long time, then clenched her fist, and the illusory image vanished.
"That day will come," she said, her voice so low that only she could hear it.
A night breeze blew a withered leaf into the hall, where it landed at her feet. She bent down, picked it up, examined it for a moment in her palm, then tucked it into the title page of the book and closed it.
Moonlight shone on the book cover.
The Moonlight Heart Sutra.