Jun Mo Xie's eyes blazed with cold fire. "Beg? What use is begging! Will their lives be restored by your pleas? Instead, take responsibility! Care for them! Nurture them! Help them live with dignity and start families of their own! Will you shirk even this? Are you unwilling because it is hard?"
"I'll do it!" Han Yan Yao suddenly roared through her tears, her voice shaking the air. Her delicate body quivered, but her eyes now burned with determination. "I will take care of them! For the rest of their lives!"
Jun Mo Xie snorted, his tone sharp. "Hmph! Then what about Jun Wu Yi? Shouldn't you stay by his side as well? Slowly soften his heart, undo the knots of sorrow choking him? This all began because of you, and only you can end it! Only you can heal him!"
Han Yan Yao froze, her heart pounding violently. The name she dreaded to hear, the face she longed yet feared to see, Jun Wu Yi!
That name was both her salvation and her torment.
Her lips trembled, but no sound came out.
Jun Mo Xie pressed on coldly. "Do you think caring for those children alone is enough? What of my disciple's uncle? He also needs release from his guilt. The root of this tragedy is not only you... it is him as well! Do you understand? You must both confront this pain! Only then can it be cleansed!"
Han Yan Yao's tears flowed uncontrollably, her delicate body shuddering as her voice tore out of her throat. "I... am willing to carry it!"
Her cry echoed like a vow to the heavens. "I will carry it till death! Will this do???"
Her body crumpled weakly onto the frozen ground, her arms limp, her face streaked with tears. Her beautiful eyes were glazed with sorrow, yet a trace of stubborn resolve flickered deep within.
She muttered over and over again, like a broken soul clinging to a final promise: "I'll carry it... I'll carry it till death... I'll carry it till death..."
Drip... drip...
The cave fell silent except for her hoarse sobs and the faint dripping of tears freezing into ice upon the floor.
The howling wind outside seemed to wail in unison with her broken voice, echoing endlessly across the snowy peaks.
Jun Mo Xie's lips curved into the faintest smile. Slowly, he rose from his seat, his movements calm yet carrying an inexplicable pressure that made the cold mountain winds seem to pause in awe. His robe swayed gently, the fabric whispering against the floor as he stepped forward.
Han Yan Yao sat broken on the ground, her body trembling like a frost-touched flower, her tears still warm against the bitter chill of the snowy peaks.
Without a word, Jun Mo Xie reached out his hand and gently placed his palm upon her head.
Hummm…
A soft vibration spread out, and a warmth, indescribably gentle yet overwhelmingly powerful, seeped from his palm and coursed through her.
Han Yan Yao's trembling lessened. The storm of emotions that had shattered her composure calmed, like a wild sea suddenly subdued by a divine hand. Her sobbing breaths steadied, her despair eased, and her tears slowed. She raised her eyes slightly, dazed, as if her entire soul was being soothed.
Jun Mo Xie's smile deepened, his voice calm, magnetic, and yet carrying an authority that could not be resisted.
"You have made the right choice," he said softly. "Since I am here… and since my disciple has spoken for you… then I will gift you a path."
His words seemed ordinary, yet the air around them trembled as if the heavens themselves bowed in silence.
"This cultivation technique," Jun Mo Xie continued, "is born for this land of snow and frost. You live in such a cold place, yet from now on, the cold will no longer be your enemy. If you learn it well, the chill that pierces bones will no longer torment you… Instead, it will become your ally, your strength, your foundation to grow stronger."
Woooosh!
As his words fell, an invisible energy surged from his palm into Han Yan Yao's head. It was not violent or forceful; rather, it was as if a spring of endless wisdom had opened.
A mysterious chant, cryptic diagrams, countless streams of profound energy, like flowing rivers of starlight, poured into her sea of consciousness.
Han Yan Yao gasped, her body shuddering. In her mind's eye, a scripture unfolded, each word glowing with cold brilliance, each line resonating with power. She could feel a cultivation technique that seemed to be forged by the heavens themselves to match her very being.
She looked up in shock, her voice trembling, hoarse from weeping.
"Senior… why? Why would you give me such a precious thing?"
Her eyes, red from tears, stared at him with disbelief. She had lived her life with regret, pain, and guilt, yet in this moment, she was being entrusted with something invaluable.
Jun Mo Xie chuckled softly, the sound light, yet carrying a deep undertone that could shake a person's heart.
"This… is my way of compensating you," He said, his tone carrying a hint of playfulness, but his eyes sharp. "Earlier, I doubted you. Consider this my apology."
He leaned slightly closer, his gaze boring into her.
"But remember this clearly... you must never share this cultivation technique with anyone. Not even a word. If you try… if you dare… then the technique itself will abandon you. You will forget every chant, and you will never again take even a single step forward in cultivation."
His voice was calm, but the weight of his words crashed upon Han Yan Yao like a thunderclap.
Bang!
Her heart trembled violently.
Han Yan Yao quickly lowered her head, her forehead almost touching the ground as her voice shook with sincerity.
"Senior… please rest assured. I would never… never dare to do such a thing. I swear it. This grace is too immense for me to repay even in ten lifetimes. I am grateful… eternally grateful for granting me this precious chance."
Her voice carried the desperation of someone who had finally found light after endless darkness.
Jun Mo Xie waved his hand, dismissive, as if brushing away her gratitude. His sleeve flicked lightly, yet it stirred a sharp gust of wind through the icy hall.
"This technique is not the strongest under heaven," He said faintly, as though the matter was of little importance. "But right now, it suits you the most. That is enough. Whether it will shine or not depends on your own perseverance."
His tone sharpened, cold as steel.
"Train well. Do not disappoint me."
Han Yan Yao's heart pounded as she pressed her head down again, tears welling up once more, but this time, not of sorrow, but of hope.
"Yes… I will not disappoint you!"
Jun Mo Xie's eyes softened slightly, though only for a brief instant.
Then, he turned.
His steps were slow, unhurried. But with each step, his body seemed to blur, his figure growing fainter.
Tap… tap… tap…
The sound of his footsteps echoed in the quiet hall, yet with each sound, his silhouette grew less distinct, as though reality itself could not hold him.
By the third step, half of his form had vanished into thin air.
By the fifth, only a vague shadow remained.
By the seventh, he was gone completely, like a dream scattered upon waking.
Han Yan Yao stared at the empty space before her, her lips parted, her heart trembling violently.
The mysterious cultivation technique echoed in her consciousness, her tears still fresh on her cheeks, her body still shaking.
Yet in that emptiness, a single truth was carved deep into her heart.
This day… this moment… had forever changed her fate.
--- ✦ ✦ ✦ ---
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