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Two wooden carts stood waiting by the dirt road, the morning mist still clinging to the fields.
Long Meilin's arms wrapped tightly around her son. She held him for a long time, her hands trembling faintly as warm tears fell onto his shoulder. When she finally let go, she wiped her eyes and smiled through the blur. Before her stood not the small boy she once knew, but a fine young man — tall, steady, his black hair tied back neatly with a dark ribbon. Long Tianyu's eyes, deep and dark as obsidian, shimmered in the light. He, too, was fighting tears.
Long Jian stepped forward, resting a heavy hand on his son's shoulder. "Son," he said, his voice thick, "you have to be careful out there. I know this is what you want — but if anything ever happens, remember, we're always here. You can come back anytime."
Nearby, Nong Wei and Nong Yulan stood beside their son. Nong Xuanfeng had grown tall and lean, his short black hair and sharp brows giving him a mature look far beyond his fifteen years."Xuanfeng, you be careful out there," Nong Wei said with a grin. "Don't let any demoness take you away now." Nong Yulan slapped her husband's head lightly. "Stop saying nonsense."
Chen Jie laughed along with them and his parents, his greatsword — forged by Xuanfeng just days earlier was strapped across his back. He had decided never to part with it, no matter where he went.
Zang Liu's parents embraced him, telling him to keep painting and to show them his new works when he returned. Lin Yue's mother, Lin Fengyu, pressed a book into her daughter's hands — filled with notes about medicine and the treatment of various illnesses. Lin Yue held it close, her eyes bright.
One by one, similar farewells happened. Xiao Chi hugged both his parents tightly. His father smiled and said ''When you come back you might have a little sibling'' Xiao Chi's eyes rounded and his jaw dropped to the floor, making his mother laugh.
Wang Mei's family, would guide the carts to Moondragon City — a place they had visited before, though rarely. The familiar faces and memories stirred emotion in Wang Shuren and Wang Lihua's hearts.
"Song Xue," her father said softly, "you're quiet by nature, but don't let anyone push you around. Be strong, stand tall.''
"Yes, Father," Song Xue replied, her voice light and gentle.
Hua Qingqing sat before her mother's grave. Her zither rested across her lap, and she played her favorite melody — the one her mother had loved most. The notes drifted through the air like threads of light, carried away by the wind. The tree beside the grave swayed gently. When the final note faded, Hua Qingqing stood.
"I'll try to visit you as much as I can, Mother," she said softly.
Hua Shen stood a few steps behind, tears glimmering in his eyes — though he didn't let them fall. He wanted to be strong, for her sake.
Together, they left, though next time only Hua Shen would come back.
The last farewell was to Song Ming — their teacher. The old man stood tall despite his age, his long white hair flowing down his back. Dressed in simple black robes and leaning on his dark walking stick, he smiled at the disciples standing before him.
"I'm proud of all of you," Song Ming said, his voice calm but warm. "Chen Jie — never stop training your body. Xiao Chi — remember to stay quiet when you must. Lin Yue — I hope following your mother's path will bring healing to many. Song Xue — keep your friends close, and speak your heart when it matters. Zang Liu — your paintings will carry your soul forward, keep creating. Wang Mei — study well, but remember to live. Experience is a teacher too.
"Nong Xuanfeng," he continued, "you will keep hammering away in one way or another. Protect the others with what you forge. Hua Qingqing — your heart carries both grief and light. Let music fill the empty places, and share it with the village when you return."
Finally, his gaze fell on Long Tianyu."You have grown into a fine young man. From that clumsy boy to their 'eldest brother.' But remember — do not become arrogant because of your strength, like I have said many times. None of you have learned true martial techniques yet. The sects will be your next challenge. Walk your paths with honor, and if your friends ever need you—come to their aid without hesitation."
Long Tianyu's chest puffed with pride. "I promise!" he shouted, slapping his chest with a grin.
When all farewells were said, they loaded their belongings onto the carts. Wang Shuren and Wang Lihua took the reins. As the wheels began to turn, the sound of wood and iron rolled softly over the road.
Hua Qingqing, sitting beside Long Tianyu, smiled faintly and shouted "I'll remember your teachings," she said, glancing toward Long Meilin. Hua Shen laughed loudly.
The village grew smaller behind them.
Later that night, Song Ming sat in his old wooden chair, his black walking stick resting against it. He gazed at the painting hanging on the wall — tall mountains, their peaks brushed in white paint, golden rivers winding through valleys of green.
The old man smiled.
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End of Epilogue I - Leaving the Village