The woman smiled. "I'm not going to eat you."
Despite himself, Mo Xuan almost laughed.
She waved him closer. "Whatever happened to your family, you shouldn't be standing alone in the forest."
Getting up, she looked toward the village. "Come with me."
Mo Xuan hesitated. His instincts told him not to trust strangers. But another part of him remembered the warmth of home, his father and the Mo Clan. The life he had lost without knowing whether he would ever return.
Finally, he bowed. "Thank you, Grandma."
The old woman smiled. "What's your name?"
"Mo Xuan."
"Mo Xuan..." She repeated the name softly.
"I'm Lin. Most people here call me Old Lin."
She turned toward the village. "You can call me Granny Lin if you like."
Mo Xuan followed. "Granny Lin."
The old woman's smile widened. That evening, Granny Lin gave him a bowl of warm porridge. A simple food, nothing remotely comparable to the meals served within the Mo Clan. Yet Mo Xuan found himself eating slowly.
He had not realised how hungry he was.
Granny Lin watched him quietly. "You don't have to eat like someone is going to take it away."
Mo Xuan paused. Then he lowered his bowl slightly. "Sorry."
"Don't apologise." She shook her head.
"You've been through something frightening."
Mo Xuan looked down. The warmth of the small house settled around him. For the first time since leaving the Mo Clan... He felt a bit safe.
After he finished eating, Granny Lin brought out a set of clean clothes. "They belonged to my grandson."
Mo Xuan looked at them. "Your grandson?"
She nodded. "He left the village many years ago." There was a brief sadness in her voice.
Mo Xuan was reluctant to accept the clothes.
She waved her hand dismissively. "They're doing no good sitting in a chest. Take them."
"Thank you."
That night, Mo Xuan lay on a simple wooden bed in a room that had probably once belonged to the old woman's grandson. The ceiling creaked softly whenever the wind passed through the house. Outside, insects chirped beneath the moonlight.
Mo Xuan stared at the unfamiliar ceiling. His thoughts ran wild. Everything had happened so quickly. He still did not know where he was and did not know his father's condition after he discovered his disappearance.
And he certainly did not know whether he could return home anytime soon. But for tonight... there was nothing he could do.
Mo Xuan closed his eyes.
Morning came quietly to the small mountain village. A thin layer of mist covered the valley, drifting between the wooden houses and the fields as the first rays of sunlight slipped over the surrounding mountains.
Mo Xuan had already been awake for some time. He sat cross-legged beneath the old tree behind Granny Lin's house, his eyes closed and his breathing steady. The Spiritual Energy of the valley flowed gently around him.
With every breath, a small amount entered his body. He simply guided it through his meridians, allowing his body to absorb what it needed. Mo Xuan had discovered something interesting about this place. The Spiritual Energy here was remarkably pure.
For a cultivator, it was an ideal environment. But he did not allow himself to become careless or greedy.
A strong foundation was more important than rapid cultivation.
Instead, he cultivated slowly. One cycle. Then another. He allowed the energy to circulate through his meridians before returning to his dantian. After several cycles, Mo Xuan opened his eyes.
A faint mist escaped his lips. He looked toward the rising sun. Another day had begun.
His life in the village had gradually settled into a simple rhythm. During the day, he helped Granny Lin with whatever work needed to be done. Sometimes that meant carrying water from the stream. Sometimes it meant cutting firewood.
Other times, he helped repair the fence surrounding the small vegetable garden. The work was simple. Almost ordinary. But Mo Xuan did not dislike it. In fact, after everything that had happened, he found a strange peace in it.
No clan elders were watching him. No one measuring his cultivation. No one comparing his soul with those of other children. To the villagers, he was simply a boy who had lost his family.
After finishing his morning cultivation, Mo Xuan returned to the house. Granny Lin was already preparing breakfast. "You are awake early again."
Mo Xuan smiled. "I couldn't sleep."
The old woman glanced at him. "You young people should sleep more."
"I slept enough."
"Hmph." She placed a bowl on the table. "Then eat."
Mo Xuan sat down. The meal was simple, just as it had been every morning since he arrived. Yet he had slowly grown accustomed to it. While eating, his gaze occasionally drifted toward the old woman's hands. They had become steadier over the past few months.
When he first arrived, Granny Lin often struggled with small tasks because of the pain in her joints. Now she could carry firewood herself. Her complexion had also improved. The change had not escaped Mo Xuan's attention.
It was one of the reasons he had begun secretly adding tiny amounts of Spiritual Energy into the food he prepared for her. He had also used a small amount of the Blood Essence Fruit's medicinal power.
Nothing excessive. Just enough to nourish her body gradually. Granny Lin had never asked about it. Perhaps she had noticed. Perhaps she simply chose not to. Mo Xuan was grateful for that.
After breakfast, he carried a basket toward the fields. Several villagers were already working. A middle-aged man waved when he saw him. "Xuan!"
Mo Xuan turned. "Uncle Zhao."
"Come help us with these." The man pointed toward several sacks of grain.
Mo Xuan walked over. "Where should I put them?"
"Inside the storage shed."
Mo Xuan nodded and lifted one. The sack was heavy enough that an ordinary child would have struggled with it. For Mo Xuan, however, it felt almost weightless.
By midday, the work was finished.
Mo Xuan returned to Granny Lin's house and rested briefly before heading toward the forest. The villagers believed he went there to collect herbs and firewood. The forest had become his second training ground.
Once he was far enough from the village, Mo Xuan's relaxed expression disappeared. He began training his sword forms. He repeated each motion dozens of times. His sword moved through the air with increasing fluidity. His transitions became smoother.
Most importantly...
He was beginning to understand the relationship between his body and the sword.
Hours passed. Sweat soaked through his clothes. His breathing became heavier. Still, Mo Xuan continued. He simply wanted to become stronger. Because somewhere beyond these mountains was his father.
And one day... He intended to return home.
A year passed quietly.
The boy who had arrived in the valley exhausted and wounded had gradually become part of the village. The villagers became accustomed to seeing him carrying firewood, repairing fences, or helping with the fields.
And Mo Xuan...
He became accustomed to the valley. Yet he never forgot the Mo Clan. Every night, before sleeping, he would look toward the distant mountains. He wondered how his father was doing.
One morning, as mist drifted gently across the valley, Granny Lin stood outside her house and watched Mo Xuan finish setting up the firewood.
He had just set down the last log when she spoke.
"Xuan."
Mo Xuan turned.
"Yes, Granny?"
The old woman looked toward the mountains.
"The Azure Cloud Sword Sect is recruiting new disciples in a few months."
Mo Xuan's expression changed slightly.
"I know you're not an ordinary mortal. You should be one of those they call cultivators," she said, adjusting her tone. "I can tell from how you never tire, no matter how much you help around here. And do you think I haven't noticed my own body? I feel myself growing more youthful by the day."
She paused. "I know there are things you still haven't told me, and I don't mean to pry. Just know you have a home here. But I don't want you wasting your life in this valley either."
"Our village has a quota." She looked at him. "You should go."
Mo Xuan remained silent.
Granny Lin smiled. "The children here have dreamed of becoming cultivators since they were young."
"But you..." She paused. "You already have the ability."
Mo Xuan lowered his gaze. He had spent a year hiding his cultivation.
Granny Lin continued softly.
"The Sword Sect once said that our village produces good seedlings."
"If you succeed, you will have a chance to see the world beyond this valley."
Mo Xuan looked at the mountains again. For a long time, he said nothing. Long after Granny Lin had gone back inside, he remained beneath the old tree, the words Azure Cloud Sword Sect still echoing in his mind.
A sect.
The thought was both unfamiliar and strangely appealing. For the past year, he had cultivated alone.
He had the inheritance of An Extreme Theory, a body transformed by the Revolution Connecting Mantra's body-tempering method, a Storage Ring full of resources, and some sword manuals he was only beginning to understand.
But he lacked something important.
Guidance.
The books could teach him principles, but they could not correct every mistake in his movements. They could not answer every question about his Cosmic Soul. And they certainly could not tell him what existed beyond the mountains surrounding this valley.
The Sword Sect could.
More importantly...
A sect was connected to the wider cultivation world.
If he wanted to find his way back to the Mo Clan, remaining in this isolated valley would accomplish nothing.
Mo Xuan went to ask Granny Lin. "How long until the recruitment?"