Rain didn't know how long he had been screaming. His sense of time had completely fractured, leaving him to measure the passage of hours only through the slow, silent travel of the moon across the night sky. The moon glittered with a peculiar, cold brilliance, as if looking down in grim commiseration with his unimaginable suffering. The agonizing torment didn't even grant him the mercy of numbness; it came in relentless waves, crashing over his shattered nervous system just when he thought he had adjusted to the pain.
When the sky finally began to clear and the pale fingers of dawn appeared on the horizon, Rain remembered the final words of the bandit chief. It seemed that he would indeed meet his grandfather on the other side sooner rather than later.
His eyelids grew heavier by the second. Just as the comforting call of oblivion threatened to pull him under into a final, endless slumber, a faint sound broke the eerie stillness of the desolate village.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The footsteps were remarkably clear, despite not being particularly loud against the ruined earth. Pushing past the heavy fog of exhaustion, Rain fiercely resisted the pull of unconsciousness and turned his head toward the source of the sound. Sadly, his vision remained a wash of absolute darkness—he had been permanently blinded by the volatile poison. Even so, his heightened instincts told him the newcomer was a woman.
Finally, the footsteps stopped right in front of his broken, bleeding form. He heard the soft rustle of expensive fabrics brushing against the dirt. The newcomer had most likely crouched down to inspect him.
Then, a voice broke the heavy silence—a voice so breathtakingly melodious it sounded as though it belonged to the legendary Nine Song Bird of ancient lore.
"Poor soul... how could anyone be cruel enough to do something like this?"
The voice was filled with an initial wave of shock and deep, resonant compassion.
If Rain had been blessed with his sight, he would have instantly noticed a striking contradiction in the young woman kneeling before him. She looked to be in her late teens, carrying an ethereal aura that felt completely detached from the mortal world—akin to a celestial fairy descended from the heavens. Her natural beauty easily surpassed the glittering stars in the morning sky. Yet, despite the sorrow in her words, there was a chilling, razor-sharp contrast locked within her blue eyes.
Indifference.
Yes, her gaze was entirely devoid of warmth. Even if the heavens themselves were to collapse, those eyes would not so much as flicker. Alas, Rain was blind to her expression. He felt only an overwhelming wave of gratitude that he would not die entirely alone in the dirt. Someone had come to pity his wretched fate and witness his final, fading moments.
"Miss... I have one favor to ask of you. We... we don't know each other, but I hope you can bury me with my grandfather. He is inside..." Rain murmured weakly, using the last remnants of his strength to voice his final, humble wish.
"Bury you? You aren't going to die." Her tone was firm, steady, and utterly unwavering, carrying a strange authority that made Rain almost want to believe her.
"Miss, it's... it's too late for me. I can feel death's cold grasp closing in. Even the most competent healer in the realm wouldn't—"
He couldn't finish his sentence. Suddenly, a soft, soothing warmth—resembling a gentle touch of pure silk—pressed gently against his forehead.
?
Instantly, a surging wave of vital warmth bloomed from the point of contact, rushing outward like a living current to flood his entire, battered body. His ruined, agonizing frame felt like a cracked, parched desert suddenly nourished by a miraculous heavenly rain. The agonizing fire that had been tearing through his veins for hours melted away like winter snow under a blazing sun.
The providential energy cascaded downward, washing away the burning torment in his eyes as well as neutralizing the corrosive remnants of the poison. The heavy, suffocating grip of death slackened instantly. As Rain drew in a deep, shuddering breath, he felt as though he were inhaling life itself. Though he still couldn't confirm it with his eyes, he could vividly feel the deep lacerations across his flesh knitting back together, and his depleted veins pulsing with fresh, warm blood. His failing heartbeat rapidly grew stronger, steadier, and far more regular than it had ever been before the attack.
"Are you... a goddess?" Rain couldn't help but whisper in absolute awe.
"No," the fairy shook her head slightly, her gaze remaining entirely detached. "I am a cultivator."
Rain's breath hitched in shock. He had never dreamed he would actually meet a true cultivator in his lifetime. He had only ever heard whispered legends of them—mysterious beings possessing terrifying, divine powers that far exceeded mortal limitations. More importantly, they were figures capable of ascending to immortality if they achieved profound success in their cultivation.
Even his grandfather had spoken to him about cultivators in the past. Rain vaguely remembered his grandfather telling him that if a cultivator couldn't accomplish a certain feat, it simply meant they hadn't cultivated to a high enough realm yet—implying that, to such beings, virtually nothing was impossible. But at the time, his grandfather's face had darkened into a bitter expression, immediately following the statement with a grim, unforgettable warning:
Don't trust them. They're jackals, every last one of them.
Right now, however, Rain felt certain his savior must be fundamentally different from the ruthless types his grandfather had cautioned him against. She certainly didn't stand to gain anything by saving a dying mortal orphan like him. She had intervened purely out of the kindness of her heart. Just like humanity itself, surely there were good people and bad people, which meant there must also be good and bad cultivators.
In any case, he couldn't bring himself to harbor a single ounce of suspicion toward this woman. She had just granted him a literal second lease on life. As his grandfather had also taught him, a person must never be an ungrateful dog.
"My deepest gratitude, Fairy, for saving my life." It wasn't that Rain was desperately clinging to life out of a fear of death; rather, he still hadn't avenged his grandfather. To leave this world now, while the murderers still walked the earth, was a fate entirely unbearable to him. Because of this, his heart swelled with profound indebtedness to the young woman.
"It is nothing more than what I ought to have done. Besides, it is also your sheer good fortune that I happened to be passing by and stumbled upon this desolate scene," she replied softly, her voice carrying a gentle melancholy. "I am truly sorry for what happened to you and your people. If only I had arrived just a little earlier, this terrible tragedy could have been prevented." She let out a quiet, delicate sigh laden with apparent self-blame.
By this point, the surge of restorative energy had allowed Rain to push himself up into a sitting position. He shook his head, his voice filled with fierce conviction. "How can that possibly be the Fairy's fault? It is those damned bandits who deserve to burn!"
Thinking of the raiders, the cold, heavy fury in Rain's chest flared back to life, burning far hotter and stronger than before.
The fairy seemed to sense the turbulent emotions churning within him. She reached out, gently stroking his long, blood-matted hair in a soothing, maternal gesture. "Come now. I will help you bury your fellow villagers properly. After that, we can sit down and discuss what you wish to do with your future."
With tender care, she reached down and helped him to his feet. As he stood up, Rain noticed for the first time that she was comfortably a head taller than him, carrying an air of effortless grace.
"By the way, my name is Purple Rose. You don't need to be so formal—feel free to speak to me casually. After all, I am only a couple of years older than you," she said softly as she led him step-by-step toward his battered house. She kept a firm, reassuring hold on his hands because his eyes, tragically, had not fully recovered their physical sight.
To be precise, while the tissue damage around his eyes had healed and the poison had been purged, their core function had been permanently destroyed. His previously dark pupils had settled into a pale, misty, blue-grey hue. From this day forward, Rain was entirely blind.
As they walked, Purple Rose gently explained the mechanics of the poison the bandits had so cruelly administered. Its primary component was an ancient, lethal flora known as the Heaven Blighting Herb—a rare material that should have disappeared from the mortal realm millennia ago. She postulated that the bandits had likely stumbled upon a remnant stash hidden deep within an ancient ruin. The most terrifying attribute of the herb was its permanent toxicity; once refined into a poison, it permanently degraded physical pathways and made the affliction exceptionally difficult to eradicate completely.
Sensing Rain's sudden, somber silence, she offered words of comforting reassurance. She gently reminded him that once he officially embarked upon the mystical path of cultivation, there remained a slim, viable chance that he could regain his sight entirely once his future cultivation base grew strong enough to completely counter the lingering effects of the Heaven Blighting Herb.
"You possess latent spiritual talent—I can feel it. You can undoubtedly succeed in the art of cultivation if you put your mind to it," Purple Rose continued, her tone dropping into an intimate, encouraging register. "If you are willing, I would be deeply honored to take you under my wing and teach you everything I know."
She sounded remarkably sincere, her words carrying a warmth that bypassed all of Rain's lingering defenses. Rain was deeply moved, a quiet sense of wonder blooming in his chest. How could such a genuinely kind and compassionate person possibly exist in this cruel world?
For the first time in his young life, walking hand-in-hand with Purple Rose, he felt a soft, comforting warmth bloom deep within his heart—a sensation he had never experienced before, not even from the village elders. Her hand felt wonderfully warm against his calloused palm. Rain had never been the recipient of such unprompted benevolence.
Just as they arrived directly in front of his splintered, blood-stained doorway, Rain stopped. Though he couldn't see her face, he turned his head precisely toward where he sensed she was standing, a look of profound, unyielding seriousness settling over his youthful features.
"I am more than willing, if you will have me," Rain spoke firmly, every syllable carrying the weight of a lifelong vow. This was his only remaining path forward, and he needed power—absolute power—to ensure that his grandfather could finally rest in peace.