She raised a slender finger, its tip glowing with a soft, white light. Gently, she touched it to the center of Mu Rou's forehead. An immense stream of profound information—complex diagrams of Qi circulation, ancient characters, and esoteric chants—flowed directly into Mu Rou's sea of consciousness. The technique, called the 'Nine Heavens Glacial Scripture', settled within her mind as if it had always belonged there.
"This is a great fortune, but also a great responsibility," Qin Ying said, her voice a serious admonition. "Promise me you will cultivate it with all your heart, that you will never let this power fall into indolence. Also, you must keep your constitution and this technique a secret. Never disclose this to even your closest friend. This could bring disaster to you and Mu Yan."
Tears of gratitude welled in Mu Rou's eyes. She bowed deeply, her forehead nearly touching the floor. "I promise, Sister Ying. I will not fail you or Big Brother Mu Yan."
The night deepened, the moon climbing high in the inky sky. The emotional, Physical, and spiritual exhaustion of the day's events finally caught up to them. Mu Yan gestured to the two simple beds in the room. He took a spot by the window, content to meditate on the floor.
"Big Brother, you can't," Mu Rou protested immediately. "You are exhausted. I will sleep on the floor."
"Absolutely not," Mu Yan's voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. A rare, gentle smile touched his face. "We are family now. How could I let you sleep on the floor while I take the bed?"
His words settled the matter. Seeing his unyielding expression, Mu Rou relented, a warmth spreading through her chest. The two women took the beds, and within moments, the day's ordeal claimed Mu Rou, pulling her into a deep and peaceful slumber.
The room grew quiet, filled only with the soft sounds of breathing. But sleep did not come for Mu Yan or Qin Ying. A strange restlessness coiled in Mu Yan's gut, a premonition that prickled at the edges of his senses, a feeling that something significant was about to shift. But the grueling fight with Yang Yutian had taxed him to his limits, and despite the unease, a heavy weariness pulled at his eyelids. Soon, his breathing deepened as he, too, succumbed to sleep.
Silence reigned for a long hour. Then, Qin Ying's eyes opened in the darkness, clear and lucid. She sat up, her movements silent as a falling leaf. Her gaze fell upon Mu Yan's sleeping form, a complex mixture of fondness, regret, and sorrow in her eyes. The expression softened for a moment before a mask of unshakeable determination replaced it. Her life was not her own to live as she pleased. She carried burdens he could not yet comprehend, responsibilities she could not shirk lest she bring disaster upon those she loved.
If fate wills it, we will meet again, she thought, a silent vow. And by then, you will stand so high that no one will dare to look down on you.
With a final, lingering look at his face, she rose and glided to the window. She stepped through the open frame and into the midnight air. Her foot did not plummet to the cobblestones below. It found purchase on the empty air as if it were solid ground. She walked forward, ascending into the night sky, her white robes fluttering gently in the high-altitude currents. She passed through the thin veil of clouds, emerging into the brilliant, star-dusted expanse above.
A figure waited for her there, a middle-aged man with sharp features and a powerful air. A longsword was strapped to his back, and he stood with a casual stillness that belied an immense, restrained power. Qin Ying had sensed his arrival hours ago, but she had expected her stern aunt. A wave of relief washed over her.
"Third Uncle."
The man smiled, his stern face softening. "Ying'er. It is time to go back. Your father is already furious. I have placated him for now." His eyes twinkled with a hint of mischief. "Don't worry. I won't tell him about the boy."
A faint blush colored Qin Ying's cheeks. "What are you saying, Third Uncle? There is nothing of the sort."
"You do not have to hide it from me," he chuckled, his gaze knowing. "I can see how you look at him. I will not interfere, but he must prove himself worthy of you. He is still puny in the face of the mountains you will have to move."
Qin Ying's expression turned resolute, her belief in him as solid as a diamond.
"I know. But I believe in him. He will not disappoint me."
She turned her head, casting one last glance down at the world below, at the small inn that held the sleeping boy who had so unexpectedly captured a piece of her heart.
Her Third Uncle nodded. With a casual gesture, he swiped his hand through the fabric of space. The air did not ripple; it tore open, revealing a swirling vortex of silvery light, a stable portal that pulsed with the laws of a different, higher reality. Such a feat—effortlessly creating a stable tear in the world's firmament—was an act of godlike power here, impossible even for the strongest Nascent Soul masters, who were constrained by this world's fundamental laws. It was a casual display that spoke of a background more terrifying than any kingdom or sect on this continent could possibly imagine.