Xu Liling touches her hair.
Ying Ran: “Do you think Uncle Xi recognized you too?”
Xu Liling doesn’t care whether others recognize him and counters, “Not comprehending the Way of Yin-Yang anymore?”
Ying Ran, full of spirit: “I’ve already understood it.”
Xu Liling: “Oh?”
Ying Ran: “If there’s no fate, why hide? If there’s fate, what need is there to hide? The Way of Yin-Yang lies in the mystery, hidden in the heavens and earth… You and Uncle Xi both say the Way of Yin-Yang is about fate and destiny, and the people of Wuyin Village are born with the inheritance of Yin-Yang. This means the birth of Wuyin villagers is due to the destiny granted by the heavens and earth, dying first and then coming to life.”
“They are neither human nor ghost, truly existing in the chaos of fate, destiny, life, death, and Yin-Yang.”
“The ‘hiding’ in ‘Wuyin heavens and earth’ can mean concealment or burial. They hide between heaven and earth, waiting for the opportunity bestowed by the heavens to truly end this life, to be buried and enter the cycle of the Nine Netherworlds.”
Having said this, Ying Ran proudly adds, “I really do have a talent for cultivating the Way of Yin-Yang.”
She looks at Xu Liling, and they both burst into laughter, lying back together on the stone bed.
Looking up, she sees the words he carved in his youth during his prime.
Ying Ran gazes at the words, thinking of that young boy’s figure, of the child looking up at him by the stone bed, and suddenly says, “Huai Zhen.”
“Hm?”
“When I’ve mastered the Way of Yin-Yang, I want to send Uncle Xi to the Nine Netherworlds, to give him a proper burial.”
Xu Liling remains silent.
Ying Ran turns over, resting on him.
In the dim cave, she can’t see his expression clearly, only his dark, deep eyes.
Her gaze, unflinching, meets his.
In a trance, it’s as if she can still see the shadow of the past—when the boy used his spiritual power, his right eye turned blood-red, demonic energy surging.
It caused his spiritual energy to collapse, his qi to reverse, and his meridians to shatter.
He became a demon, no longer able to use spiritual power.
Even if he cultivated the Way of Yin-Yang again, he could only practice forbidden techniques.
The unfinished matters of his past, she wants to complete for him.
Xu Liling gently strokes her back, his voice low and slow: “Alright.”
At midnight, Xu Liling teaches Ying Ran to channel her qi and focus her mind to clear her roots and bones, marking her entry into the Mysterious Way.
It’s so simple that Ying Ran is surprised.
But Xu Liling says, “Clearing the roots and bones to enter the Mysterious Way is just the beginning of formal cultivation. The path of the Mysterious Way is difficult, depending on the sect one excels in and the techniques one practices.”
Ying Ran’s current cultivation is like a baby just learning to walk.
How she grows from here depends on her innate potential, the techniques she practices, and how many levels of mastery she achieves in those techniques.
Differences among Mysterious Way cultivators are not evident in the early stages.
It’s often after mastering their respective techniques that the disparities become vast.
Ying Ran understands: “So, I need to find techniques for the Way of Yin-Yang later.”
Xu Liling: “Every path has countless techniques and secret manuals, varying in quality. I’ll go back another day to look for Yin-Yang techniques and manuals.”
Ying Ran knows that when he says “go back,” he means to his home, tainted by demonic energy.
She says, “If it’s inconvenient to go back, that’s fine. We can search for them slowly in the future.”
In her dream, his family’s city was called Xuli City, now fallen to become the Holy Demon City.
She doesn’t want him to go back and risk being detained by the Holy Demon.
Xu Liling hums in acknowledgment, tidies the bedding, and returns to the village with her.
Passing by the village’s edge, they meet Uncle Xi and Aunt Huan, still at the bonfire gathering.
Seeing them about to leave, Uncle Xi asks, “Has Miss Qin already comprehended it?”
Ying Ran nods with a smile, thanking Uncle Xi for his help.
Uncle Xi chuckles, “Miss Qin truly has talent. Since you’ve comprehended it, why not stay and celebrate? We’re about to perform the Moon Worship Dance.”
Ying Ran: “Moon Worship Dance?”
Uncle Xi gazes reverently at the moon: “The moon, also called Taiyin, grants us the ability to linger between heaven and earth. The Moon Worship Dance is our bridge to communicate with the Spirit of the Moon.”
The Spirit of the Moon?
Ying Ran curiously looks at the moon but feels no spirit.
She tugs at Xu Liling’s arm, discussing, “Shall we stay?”
Xu Liling never dampens her enthusiasm, sets their bags aside, and sits with her at the spot Uncle Xi arranged for them.
Hearing that Ying Ran has gained insight into the Way of Yin-Yang, the villagers’ attitude toward them becomes even warmer.
At first, Ying Ran only felt their friendliness, but now, understanding their identity, she vaguely realizes:
Perhaps they hope someone will appear to end their neither-living-nor-dead existence, granting them peace.
Ying Ran is still curious about them, especially when she sees the children.
During the gathering, she whispers to Xu Liling, “How exactly do they die and then come to life? Why are even young children like this? Aren’t they their biological children?”
Xu Liling: “They are all infants who were fully formed but died before birth.”
Ying Ran is stunned.
Xu Liling: “Their souls enter the cycle of the Nine Netherworlds and are reincarnated after the infant is formed. If the infant dies after forming, the soul is temporarily sealed in the stillborn body. Their consciousness is completely chaotic, unlike infants who have seen the world. Some forget to return to the Nine Netherworlds, lingering in their stillborn bodies even after the night of soul return.”
“Such infants, preserved by the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, remain in a state of neither living nor dead, neither ghost nor human. They need a place with suitable earth energy to survive. The gathering of Wuyin Village came about this way.”
He doesn’t lower his voice deliberately.
Uncle Xi, nearby, overhears and doesn’t mind, smiling as he says, “As we grow, with the help of the Spirit of the Moon, we can travel at night to bring children like us back home.”
Uncle Xi looks around at the Wuyin villagers: “Some children were given names before birth; others, stillborn, have no names. But together, we are not just family—we are closer than family.”
Those children were rescued by the villagers, not born to them.
Yet they treat them as their own, just as generations of Wuyin villagers have raised their young.
Uncle Xi sighs, “But the outside world is too dangerous. We stay in the village, neither living nor dead. Over time, some can’t bear this life. There aren’t many elders in the village—some Wuyin villagers left and never returned.”
“The people here hope a Yin-Yang cultivator can send us to the Nine Netherworlds, but we fear evil sorcerers who might refine us into evil elixirs or artifacts.”
Ying Ran feels deeply moved but can’t make promises, so she listens quietly and obediently.
Uncle Xi doesn’t dwell on the topic, smiling as he invites Ying Ran and Xu Liling to try Wuyin Village’s special Wuyin wine.
Wuyin wine is clear as the moon, with a faint fragrance of locust flowers.
Ying Ran doesn’t like wine and isn’t good at drinking.
But thinking of the young Xu Liling, who seemed to often drink, carefree and unrestrained, she didn’t refuse. She took the cup, thanked them, and took a sip.
It tasted of locust flowers.
But soon, the flavor of the wine, which she disliked, surged up.
After downing a cup in one gulp, Ying Ran’s face began to heat up, and she felt dizzy, glancing at Xu Liling.
Xu Liling took the wine but set it aside without drinking. Seeing her look over, he offered his cup, “Want to drink?”
Ying Ran shook her head, “Why aren’t you drinking?”
Hearing her slightly slurred tone, Xu Liling knew she was drunk. He supported her waist and back, “I don’t like drinking.”
Ying Ran leaned into him, “Why don’t you like it?”
Xu Liling didn’t answer.
Ying Ran tilted her face up, pressing, “Didn’t you used to enjoy drinking?”
Xu Liling’s eyes held a smile, but he remained silent.
He rarely drank in her presence. Even at their wedding, since she disliked wine, they used tea for the ceremonial cup exchange.
Logically, she shouldn’t know he liked wine.
Realizing this, Ying Ran gave a silly, proud grin, whispering as if sharing a secret, “I saw it in the Immortal’s Tomb.”
Da Hua, sitting behind her, looked exasperated.
She was truly drunk.
Xiao Huang, puzzled: Did the Immortal’s Tomb mention Xu Liling, that demon?
Xu Liling looked at her with a smile, as if waiting to see what else she’d say.
Ying Ran, with no filter, nestled in his arms, mumbling, “Why aren’t you talking? Wine tastes awful. Why did you used to like drinking? I read in the travelogue that you’d recite poetry when drunk. My dad does that sometimes too… Do all you scholars like that? Oh, right… the travelogue…”
She was about to continue when Da Hua quietly warned, “Stop talking.”
She waved a hand, “Don’t interrupt.”
The Wuyin villagers at the gathering quieted, looking at her.
Ying Ran, face flushed, said, “Sorry, I wasn’t talking about you.”
Xu Liling: “Then who were you talking about?”
Da Hua buried its face in the ground, wishing to disappear.
Ying Ran, confused, let out an “Eh?” and asked, “Who was I talking about?”
Then she looked around, “I think I’m hearing things…”
She noticed the Wuyin villagers dancing the Moon Worship Dance around the bonfire, her attention shifting to them. Propping herself up on Xu Liling’s shoulder, she stood to join them.
Xu Liling helped her up, seeing she walked steadily enough, and didn’t stop her, letting her go.
These days, she’d been holding too much in her heart; she needed to let it out.
Ying Ran didn’t know the Moon Worship Dance, clumsily following the Wuyin villagers circling the bonfire.
A shy Wuyin village girl tapped her shoulder, gesturing for Ying Ran to follow her steps.
Ying Ran mimicked her, step by step.
Amid the chanting in the Wuyin villagers’ unique language, she gradually matched their pace, smiling brightly.
Vaguely, Ying Ran felt the Spirit of the Moon the villagers spoke of.
It wasn’t communication as humans might think, but the moonlight gently falling on her, draping her in a veil of snow.
The Moon Spirit, with the soft night breeze, was like a mother’s hand, lovingly brushing her face, brushing the stillborn children, embracing them in the arms of heaven and earth.
It was the tender care and love of the Mother of Heaven and Earth for all beings.