The moment Tian Jue stepped through the wooden door, the scent of burned spirit pine resin greeted him—his mother had been preparing the herb bath as usual.
He carried the wrapped Wind Deer meat, the jade token tucked carefully inside his shirt, and the beast cores sealed in pouch.
His mother turned from the hearth—then froze.
Her gaze fell not on the meat, but the markings on the fur, the subtle traces of qi burn and the way the beast's body had been cleanly slain.
Her breath caught.
Without a word, she rushed forward and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly.
Her hands trembled faintly as they touched his back and shoulder—feeling for wounds, injuries, scars. But there were none.
Only warmth.
Only her son.
"Jue'er… did you… truly kill a spirit beast?"
He didn't answer at first.
She pulled away after a long moment, eyes wide with emotion. Shock. Pride. Worry.
Then her gaze dropped to the small letter token Tian Jue had retrieved.
She recognized the emblem of the Shenxian Sect instantly—her fingers pausing in mid-air, lips slightly parted.
"You're serious about this," she said at last, softly.
Tian Jue nodded.
"I am."
She looked at him, deeply, her eyes locking into his—trying to find the heart of the boy she raised.
"Why?" she asked. "You're still so young."
Tian Jue didn't hesitate.
"When we went to Qingyuan Town, I saw it," he said, voice calm but resolute. "In this village, you're respected because you're a herbalist. But in town? We were just… ordinary."
He looked down briefly.
"I don't want to live under someone else's roof, under someone else's protection. I don't want fate to decide things for me again. Not in this life."
His mother remained silent for a while. Then she sighed deeply—a sound that carried the weight of someone who understood the world far too well.
"And the sect?" she asked. "When is the recruitment?"
"In three weeks. I already have their recommendation," he replied, showing the token.
She nodded, turning toward the herb shelf.
"I've already prepared the rest of the herbs you need for your enhancement cycle," she said, her voice steady again. "You can begin your second phase tomorrow."
Tian Jue blinked. "You knew I'd return needing them?"
She smiled faintly, setting the jade-etched leaf containers on the table.
"I know my son."
But in the quiet that followed, Tian Jue's thoughts drifted—not to the herbs, not to the sect, but to her.
His mother, who moved through the world with a grace too natural to be taught. Who handled herbs with mastery that rivaled top-tier alchemists. Who lived in a backwater village despite being a Tier 5 Herbalist, someone who could have secured employment in any city or sect.
She came to this village five years ago, alone, with a child barely a year old.
No past. No name spoken. No origin explained.
Even the oldest village elder admitted she simply arrived one spring morning and asked for a plot of land to grow herbs.
No one questioned her. Perhaps they didn't dare.
"She looks barely twenty," Tian Jue thought. "But her calm… her bearing… it's like someone who's seen centuries."
She never fought.
She never displayed qi.
And yet… no beast ever entered their property line.
He once saw a snake turn around the moment it brushed her shadow.
Tian Jue sat that evening under the tree behind their house, the silent wind steps echoing in his muscles, the plan for cultivation spinning in his mind.
He wanted to ask.
Wanted to know who she was.
Why she hid here.
Why she never left the village, never used her skills for more.
Why she had that distant look in her eyes, sometimes, when she thought he wasn't watching.
But in the end, he let the thoughts drift like smoke.
"She won't tell me yet. And I won't ask. What matters is this—"
Her embrace was real.
Her worry was real.
Her love… was real.
"Even if the world burns, I know one thing is true."
"My mother would walk through it to protect me."
He closed his eyes.
Tomorrow, the first phase of his refinement would begin. Then the final expedition. Then the sect.
And somewhere, deep inside, a part of him knew—
"She's preparing for something, too."
To be continued…