Chapter 3: Parting

  When An Shen Shi saw An Jing carrying aire trunk of grain and medial supplies back to their shack, she uood everything at ond burst into tears.

  She was more experiehan An Jing. Havihat voy and the white-robed schor who came ter, she had already felt a foreboding in her heart, roughly guessing these people’s purpose in her.

  Now that An Jing had returned with a chest full of medie and food, how could she not realize that her child had caught the eye of those powerful figures, had sold himself, and obtaihis life-saving payment?

  “Jing’er.” She tried to sit up, and An Jing quickly set dowrunk, holding her and helping her sit upright. Tears streamed down An Shen Shi’s face as she said, “I’ve harmed you… I’ve harmed you…”

  “My boy was born a proper young master of the Northern Frontier. If these people truly belong to a great household, so be it. But if they’re some sort of gang or evil sect who fancy your talent while I lie here ill, I… I’d rather die myself!”

  “Mother,” An Jing said softly, an unusually geone for him. He sighed a on, “Without you, how could I have made it safely across the wastend?”

  “If not for you, I would have died months ago—by the Huai River, in the ruins of Anmin ty, or by a horse bandit’s bde!”

  “To save your life, why would I fear giving my own? Besides, if these people really are some wicked cult trying to make me harm the popuce, I would never agree. At worst, I could repay them tenfold or a hundredfold in and grain someday—or spare them on the future.”

  “I’ll look for a ce to escape. I’d never sink to their level aray the righteous legacy of the An Family!”

  “For now, let’s not think about that. Look, this chest tains lung-nourishing, breath-reguting medies, along with blood-replenishing pills and lung-repairing elixirs… Take them quickly. By tonight at the test, Mother, you should be able to restore your internal energy aurn to a martial artist’s state!”

  As he spoke f words for his worried mother, An Jing had already taken a small por bottle from the supplies and gazed at An Shen Shi expetly. No matter how sad she felt, under her child’s ear gaze she could only take out a light red pill and swallow it.

  Seeing his mother take the medie, An Jing smiled and carefully instructed, “Mother, now that you have these medies and this food, once you recover your strength, head south. Go around the checkpoints—don’t linger.”

  “This Frost Camity is far greater and spreads faster than before. Everything north of Broken Bde Mountain is unsafe; Mingshan City… I fear it, too, will fall.”

  “When that happens, it will be too te to leave. If a million people inside Mingshan City all bee refugees, no p the Hanbei Daion will be safe. You must keep heading south, all the way beyond Broken Bde Mountain to the banks of the Linjiang River. Go early, and with your ability, Mother, you definitely find a foothold.”

  “I uand.” An Shen Shi nodded slightly. Her son had been clever since childhood, always having his own ideas. Even his father had frequently taken his advice. Part of the An Family’s livelihood had e from An Jing’s suggestions, so she certainly would not dismiss his words.

  “But what about you?” As a mother, An Shen Shi was always most ed about her child’s future. Her expression was filled with worry as she looked at him. “Jing’er, what will you do?”

  “Me? Don’t worry.”

  An Jing had anticipated her question. He answered with practiced ease, “Whether they truly are the wealthy retainers of a powerful family or the authorities or a secret sect trainihsworn soldiers, they still need people alive.”

  “They were willing to give all this medie as payment—proving that we, all of us, may have some ‘important value’ even we don’t realize. I’ll certainly have a ce to survive.”

  At those words, An Jing suddenly paused.

  A value evehemselves did not know they had? Children in this refugee camp—what sort of value could they possess? Could it be just to be thrown into someone’s pot as ‘mi-rou’? Or to be a burden on a family?

  Then again, he was a bit special. But what about the other kids? Aside from hardiness, what else did they have?

  Hardiness…

  Yes, “a hard life”… just a life that refused to die!

  At once, realization dawned on An Jing.

  This was the world of Huaixu, part of Great , where everyone spoke of Heavenly Fate desding, of stars falling into the mortal realm.

  Ever sin Jing had dispyed unusual insight in childhood, his parents believed he was a “heaven-born star of wisdom,” raising him with great care. Since Great was founded on martial strength and maintained by w, both letters and arms were valued. Hehey had taught An Jing to read and practice martial arts from a young age, building the sturdy body he now possessed.

  A person’s fate was at the heart of martial cultivation.

  Great was brimming with martial arts—even the shepherds ie bions often knew some basic moves. But most were mere peasant teiques.

  Even if a few folk masters mao reach the threshold of mastery, they still hovered outside the core of martial cultivation, g the plete unity of mind, body, and teique o awaken internal energy and bee true martial artists.

  An Jing’s mother was a true martial artist, having reached the level called Internal Breath Like Threads. His father was oep higher, at Internal Breath Like Rivers, able to project his internal energy outward to attack or probe bones.

  As for the one-eyed leader and the white-robed schor, whose cultivation An Jing could not begin to fathom, they were likely at the pinnacle of the internal energy realm—Internal Breath Like Tides—where their energy was supremely ied and difficult to gauge.

  That marked the limit of mortal martial teiques.

  If one could not awaken, could not use fate to refiheir body’s blood and qi, then one could never surpass those three tiers of internal energy, could never advao Five Aspects of Internal Fortificatio alohose subsequent realms.

  Sin Jing was born into a martial family, he uood these cepts well. His suspi dissolved. “Could it be these people io use this disaster to sift out children who might awaken their 'Heaven-Ordained Fate*' and then train them?”

  (*命格 in ese, literally "Fate Pattern." I felt it didn't sound quite right in English so after some bad forth I settled on "Heaven-Ordained Fate" to also tie this cept with 天命, "Heaven's Fate." They are, however, different cepts, so if you think they're too simir I ge it back to "Fate Pattern"/an alternative.)

  At this thought, An Jing’s demeanor turned serious. He gripped his mother’s hand and said, “Mother, you must survive.”

  “The Northern Barbarians have invaded. My father went missing at Qingyu Pass, but no one firmed his death. Though I have sold myself, I might still be able to move freely iure.”

  “Survive. No matter what, keep living so that we might meet again!”

  So saying, An Jing and his mother embraced tightly.

  When they parted, the boy stood up, rummaging for ri the chest and ughing. “That leader told me to e back here, so I suppose he’s allowing me one final meal with you… an ued bit of kindness, I suppose?”

  “Mother, let’s have a hearty meal.”

  An Shen Shi looked at the child who was already busy making preparations to cook the rice. Bittersweet emotions filled her heart, but she also felt a surge of pride.

  —Truly, Heaveowed me this son, child of Shen Mubai!

  Emotions roiled in her mind, and the pill she had swallowed began taking effect. Blood and energy surged until An Shen Shi suddenly coughed up a mouthful of dark blood. It was clotted blood from her wounded lungs, proof that her lung injury had eased.

  The medie was extraordinarily potent. Its healing effect was astonishing.

  Seeing this, An Jing was overjoyed—his mother’s strength far exceeded his own. With her internal energy flowing again, ordinary marauders would not stand a ce against her! Yet recovery still took time…

  An Jing narrowed his eyes as he swept his gaze around and sensed numerous prying eyes.

  The smell of cooking rice wafted through the air, catg the attention of many starving refugees nearby.

  Mingshan City had already shut its gates to them, and even the pe kits had long since closed. The only reason the refugee camp still g on was that the routes along the Huai and Cui Rivers had been blocked off. With o go, these people were slowly wasting away.

  That was likely the oute desired by the gentry of Mingshan City and the officials of Hanbei Dao.

  But life often found its own path, even if some so-called paths iably led to dead ends.

  Among those casting hungry gnces, a few bold or desperate individuals had already picked up wooden spears and were sneaking closer to An Jing’s shack.

  They had earlier been cooking a pot of “meat broth,” hoping to fill their stomachs, only for that band of riders to trample and scatter it. Even the scraps had been snatched up by other refugees.

  Now, this woman coughing up blood and her skinny son had somehow obtained so much grain from the riders, stoking these people’s fury, envy, and hunger.

  But before they could make a move, An Jing stood up.

  —Jackals.

  He watched them approach, their eyes filled with a greenish glint, like starving wolves in winter. He could practically smell the foul saliva and seheir rabid gaze, ced with hostility, as vicious as the frigid wind.

  He felt no fear.

  An Jing drew the saber he had taken from the horse bandit, then lunged forward without hesitation, sshing down at the refugee!

  “Ahhh!!”

  With a shrill cry, a spray of blood burst from the man’s shoulder as he staggered backward, dropping his wooden spear. An Jing showed no mercy, stepping in to smash his foot into the man’s chest and stomp him to the ground. Then, reversing his grip on the saber, he struck hard across his chest and belly!

  There was a siing sound of flesh and innards being cut. Blood and reeking fluids gushed, gealing quickly in the Frost Camity’s cold.

  Finally, An Jing severed the man’s head. Holding it by the hair, he hoisted the wide-eyed head while the others, driven mad by hunger, fled in horror. He hung the severed head upon the spear heir shack.

  “This head should buy enough time for you tain your martial strength, Mother.”

  Returning to the shack, where the rice had just finished cooking, An Jing exged a gh An Shen Shi, who looked gratified. He paid no attention to the blood spattered on his fad clothes.

  “Now I don’t have to worry about you suffering,” An Shen Shi said gently, though sadinged her eyes. She reached out and wiped the blood from An Jing’s face. “Sit, a’s share this st meal together.”

  “Mm.”

  With the fearful stares of others upon them, and the stench of blood in the air, An Jing and his mother quietly fihe final meal they would have in that refugee camp.

  Afterward came their farewell.

  (End of Chapter)