8 A Night of Change

"You're late, Yu'er. Yanfei was worried sick," the old man's soft voice rippled into the air. It was as if the wind itself had spoken.

A bashful grin spread across Xinyu's child-like face.

"I'm sorry, Old Deng. I got carried away with some stuff," Xinyu answered simply and tucked a brown lock behind her ears. Knowing the old man, he must have already guessed what happened. Nothing could escape his eyes and ears.

Old Deng didn't reply immediately. His dark eyes were benevolent, but it was hard to discern the thoughts and emotions behind them. As expected of someone nearing a thousand years old—it would be a difficult task to read what was in that wise mind of his.

His smile widened.

"Come on, little one. We'll talk on the way home. You don't want Yanfei to get any more worried, or she's going to start pulling out her hair soon," Old Deng joked with a lighthearted tone and beckoned Xinyu to follow before heading up the hill.

"Mm," she nodded and walked exactly three steps behind him.

For a while, there was nothing but the whispering of the wind, the rustling of leaves, and the sound of light footsteps tapping on the dirt trail. The sounds were unhurried and slow, creating a calm rhythm that played along with the music of the night. It was only until they were halfway up the hill that Xinyu decided to break the comfortable silence.

"I'm leaving for White Cloud Sect in two days," she declared.

"So soon?" Old Deng merely asked without turning back.

"Yes, I made a promise."

"Yanfei is going to be sad."

"She'll understand."

"It'll be hard for us to keep in contact once you leave."

"I'll come visit as often as I can. If not, I'll write a letter every day."

"But you won't be able to eat any more taro cake."

"I'll find something else to eat then."

Old Deng stopped walking. Another moment of silence passed. For the first time since Xinyu has known Old Deng, his back somehow seemed desolate—as if he was hesitant and unwilling to let her go. It was not like he was sending her to her deathbed or something, why must he be so sad?

"Are you sure about this, Yu'er?" He finally asked; a hint of sorrow tugged at his voice.

"Yes," Xinyu answered with resolution.

"Even if what Fate has in store for you is not kind?"

Xinyu seriously considered his question before responding in a carefree voice, "No one can fight against Fate. Whether I leave now or not, sooner or later I would have to leave eventually. Since it's gonna be the same result either way, why not take the opportunity Fate has given me?"

Old Deng paused for a few seconds before letting out a small sigh. A smile of defeat plastered itself on his ancient lips.

"You've always been a resilient one, never going against the course of the river—always flowing whichever way the water guides you." He turned to Xinyu with regretful eyes and lightly placed a hand on her shoulder. "Sometimes this old one feels guilty for letting you grow up too fast."

Xinyu shook her head. "You needn't be, Old Deng. It was merely Fate's will."

Old Deng studied her with an unreadable expression before turning back to the hill. "We shouldn't let Yanfei wait any longer."

Understanding the meaning behind his words, they quietly climbed up the hill.

Xinyu wondered how Aunt Yanfei would react. Would she cry? Would she be angry? She raised and cared for her all these years—for Xinyu to leave without turning back would be unfilial.

Finally, they reached the end of the trail. The forest became less condensed and revealed a bamboo cottage in the clearing. A small creek flowed at the side of the humble abode as wet fabric dangled on lines that spread across the yard.

Just twenty steps from the house stood a plum blossom tree at the peak of the hill. It stood alone; no trees dared to disturb its beauty as it leaned toward the night Sky—as if reaching for the Moon that barely glowed its way. A wooden board was planted at its base, engraved with the words: Beloved Mother and Friend. Below that read a name that was familiar yet somehow seemed foreign to Xinyu's tongue.

Xinyu glanced at its lonesome splendor before following Old Deng inside the house. Upon entering, a warm embrace enveloped her.

"You ungrateful child! You had me worried sick!" Aunt Yanfei's large arms tightened around Xinyu's slender frame. "When you didn't come home by sundown, I thought something had happened! You never break your promises!"

Xinyu chuckled guiltily and returned the hug, burying herself in the pleasant scent of cedar and wood. "I'm sorry, auntie. Some things got in the way."

She always wondered why Aunt Yanfei's true form was a pine tree. She could understand why Old Deng was a bamboo spirit; he had the virtue and modesty of a bamboo plant. But Aunt Yanfei a pine tree spirit? That made no sense! She didn't carry the stiffness or solemnity of the evergreen tree. Instead, she resembled a taro root—something round, familiar, and always easy to find when one needed it.

"Don't you ever do that again! I wouldn't know how to face Meihua if anything ever happened to you!" Aunt Yanfei cried in distraught.

"So does that mean you wouldn't be worried otherwise?" Xinyu teased with a grin. But of course, she already knew the answer.

"You silly girl! You know that's not what I meant," Aunt Yanfei broke from the hug to see her niece's face. Xinyu used this chance to do the same.

Aunt Yanfei's usual uptight bun was unsecured. Loose black strands fell down her soft features, barely worn by time. She had the most caring eyes. If not for her plumpness, Aunt Yanfei would be a beauty celebrated across the Wildlands.

It was too bad she chose to come to the Mortal Realm even when she didn't need to. They weren't even related by blood. In fact, if she wanted to, Aunt Yanfei could leave and return home right now and no one would stop her. To live away from one's homeland must be so sad.

Xinyu wouldn't understand that feeling though. She had nowhere to go but here. This was her home.

As she took in the beauty of her aunt, a stabbing pain in her right hand caused Xinyu to flinch. Aunt Yanfei had taken ahold of the injury when she was studying her.

"What happened? How did you hurt yourself?" Aunt Yanfei looked at the bruised hand with an expression that made Xinyu feel ashamed.

"I punched someone," Xinyu answered plainly.

"What happened? Did someone start a fight with you?" Aunt Yanfei peered at Xinyu, waiting for an explanation.

"No, I punched him first. He was beating a woman, so I let him taste my fist," Xinyu explained casually as if it was the most natural thing to do.

Aunt Yanfei did not share that feeling—she was actually quite startled! Did she hear correctly? Her mild-tempered niece actually initiated a fight? Even when people spat on her, Xinyu wouldn't even bat an eye!

Aunt Yanfei blinked multiple times to process the information slowly. What could have caused Xinyu to voluntarily enter a conflict?

Even without words, Xinyu knew what was going through her aunt's mind.

Of course, if Xinyu were her, she would be shocked too. In fact, she was also confused by her own actions. As a person who has never raised her hand to fight willingly for seventy years, it must be quite staggering to hear that it was Xinyu who threw the first punch.

But who could blame her? The man had it coming. Even Fate thought so and wanted her to do it, so naturally, she had no choice.

Without questioning any further, Aunt Yanfei went to grab some bandages and ointment for Xinyu's injury.

It was always like this. The three never questioned each other's actions. There was always a mutual understanding between them. No matter what one did, the other would be there to support them to the end.

Xinyu glanced at the old man who had taken a seat by the window. Old Deng took a few sips of tea and gazed into the night with his all-seeing eyes.

Tonight, there would be no storytelling.

When Aunt Yanfei returned, the two shared a meaningful look, and Xinyu understood what she had to do. As Aunt Yanfei attentively tended to her injury, Xinyu said, "I'm leaving for White Cloud Sect in two days."

Aunt Yanfei barely paused before proceeding to carefully wrap Xinyu's hand in the ointment-soaked bandages. Xinyu saw something falter in her soft eyes, but Aunt Yanfei said nothing. After finishing, she stood up and walked away silently. When Xinyu thought she would not return, Aunt Yanfei came back with a plate full of taro cake.

"It won't be any good if you leave on an empty stomach," Aunt Yanfei said with a tender smile.

Despite the optimism in her tone, Xinyu could hear the overwhelming sadness that hid behind her voice. She wanted to say something to cheer her aunt up, but she couldn't find the right words to say. In the end, she just returned a smile.

After they ate, Old Deng went back to his wooden cabin; it resided barely fifty steps away from the bamboo cottage. With his departure, Aunt Yanfei and Xinyu headed to bed. Although they slept in different beds, they shared the same room. Only a window and a small table separated the pair of aunt and niece.

As the two lay in silence, Xinyu stared at the bamboo ceiling, her thoughts unknown to the world.

"Can I sleep on your bed tonight?" She finally said in a mellow voice.

There was the shuffling of sheets before a faint voice answered, "Come here, child."

Xinyu quickly climbed out of her bed and headed to her aunt's side of the room. Aunt Yanfei made some space at the outer part of her bed and lifted the blanket up so that Xinyu could squeeze into the small bed.

With her back towards Aunt Yanfei, Xinyu snuggled herself into her aunt's arms and closed her eyes. Aunt Yanfei smiled gently, pulling the blanket over Xinyu's slender body.

As her consciousness melted away at the warmth of her aunt's arms, Xinyu could hear the trembling of quiet sniffles behind her. Something weighed on her chest, but she was too tired to think more of it as exhaustion whisked her away to sleep.