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Lian Junchu said calmly, "I've only been in the martial world for three years, how could I possibly know her?"
"Then why would she agree..." Wei Heng was puzzled. Just then, he heard footsteps. The female Taoist priest had already arrived with her sword at her side. When she saw Lian Junchu, she nodded slightly.
Seeing that she had already arrived, Wei Heng refrained from asking directly. The three of them descended to the foot of the mountain, where Ying Long and Chongming were waiting at the crossroads. Wei Heng said, "Young Master Lian, are you also coming back to Luzhou with me?"
Lian Junchu paused for a moment, then said, "I'm afraid I must return to Seven Star Island first."
For some time now, Wei Heng had been wondering about Lian Junchu's fate. Hearing his words now, he felt a mix of relief and regret. But considering that Lian Junqiu was still unburied, and Lian Junchu was his only son, he couldn't simply ignore the matter. Seeing Lian Junchu's somber expression, Wei Heng said, "I understand. In that case, I will escort this Shenxiao Palace disciple back."
Unexpectedly, the female Taoist raised her hand and said, "Men and women should be separate; there's no need for us to travel together. I know the location of Yinxi Cottage and will go there myself."
Lian Junchu smiled slightly and said, "That's fine then. Since Daoist Lin has already promised, he certainly won't go back on his word. Master Wei, you don't need to worry."
"If it weren't for the fact that my master and your father were old friends, I wouldn't have wanted to get involved in this matter." After saying this, the female Taoist bowed to the two of them and walked away alone.
After watching her walk away, Wei Heng sighed, "I wondered why she suddenly changed her attitude. It turns out Hai Qiongzi has connections with your father. That's quite unexpected."
Lian Junchu looked away, not continuing the conversation, and simply said, "She is Lin Bizhi, the only female disciple under Hai Qiongzi."
Wei Heng nodded, tidying the saddle as he pondered something. Seeing Chongming preparing the carriage, seemingly preparing for Lian Junchu's immediate departure, he couldn't help but ask, "After burying your sister, will you come again?"
Lian Junchu, who had already walked towards the carriage, paused slightly and said, "Is this the question you wanted to ask yourself?"
Wei Heng was caught off guard by this question and was speechless for a moment. After a while, he suddenly smiled and asked, "Why do you ask me that?"
Lian Junchu turned to look at him, hesitated for a moment, and then said, "After you return to Luzhou, could you please refrain from talking about me?"
"Why?" Wei Heng asked, somewhat surprised.
Lian Junchu looked at the ground and said, "You should know their attitude towards me. I don't want to cause any more trouble."
Wei Heng paused, then raised an eyebrow and said, "You don't want Yue Ruzheng to be caught in a conflict between you and your sect, do you?"
Lian Junchu shook her head silently and turned to walk towards the carriage.
As he was about to leave Tiantai, Lian Junchu got off the carriage alone and stood amidst the vast mountains, gazing towards the northwest.
In that direction, clouds and mist swirled, barely revealing the verdant peaks. The rising sun cast a soft golden glow through the pure white mist, creating a scene of ethereal beauty. Qiongtan Peak was the most secluded and solemn place in the vicinity, the very spot where he had been imprisoned when he was nine. He vividly remembered the excruciating pain and his mother's panicked yet desperate struggle. The mountain path was rugged, petals fell, blood dripped—his mother, with immense willpower, withstood the onslaught of illness, carrying him on her back as they fled until utterly exhausted…
That night, the moonlight was like silver, bathing the earth. The exhausted mother lay by the deep pool, reaching out to embrace him, who was also on the verge of death. He couldn't reach out, but could only struggle to stay in his mother's arms, hearing her say in a restrained yet gentle voice, "Xiao Chu, you must live... no matter what, you must live well..."
These were the last words his usually silent mother left for him in this world.
For a long time, he couldn't accept the reality, couldn't accept that his mother, who had always been by his side, had turned to dust. This was the first time in his life that he had faced death directly, the death of a loved one. His mother had been expelled from the Tang Clan while she was alive, and had never been formally married into Lian Haichao's family. Even after her death, she couldn't be properly buried. She was like a solitary yet resilient magnolia, quietly blooming and quietly withering away, seemingly leaving no trace except for her son.
Qiongtan Lingxi is where she rests in peace.
Lian Junchu had only heard Lian Haichao mention it once; he didn't even know if anyone would go to pay respects to his mother on the Qingming Festival, the anniversary of her death. For so many years, even he himself had never set foot on this land that had been stained with blood.
Now, by chance, he has come to this old place. He has always avoided this trauma. Looking at the mountains behind the clouds, he can no longer leave.
He did not ask Yinglong and Chongming to follow him, but instead set off alone on the mountain path leading to Qiongtan. The road was not easy to travel; he and his mother had been brought to the mountains bound in a carriage years ago. Now, searching along the way, he found the secluded valleys and deep forests sparsely populated. Lian Junchu could only rely on the words Lian Haichao had spoken years ago to head towards Lingxi in Qiongtan.
It's said to be surrounded by mountains and rivers, and every night the bright moonlight bathes the surrounding area, making it a truly wonderful place. But for a mother, how could even the most beautiful scenery dispel her long, lonely days?
He trekked through this desolate place for a long time, and it took him more than an hour to find the grave.
Ancient trees reach for the sky, their evergreen leaves providing shade, and the tomb, constructed of pure white jade, can be seen from afar. Just as Lian Haichao had said, there is a babbling brook in front and lush green mountains behind, but before this exquisite tomb, there is only a blank tombstone.
She was neither a member of the Tang Clan nor the Lian Family. Given her awkward identity, she could only be buried here in this way.
Looking at the blank tombstone, Lian Junchu suddenly wanted to ask her mother what she had been seeking all her life, and whether she had ever truly been happy.
In her short life, she carried so much pain. In the end, she risked her life to save him, but left him to live alone in the world. He always remembered the words "live well," so he endured the torment day and night until now. But when he faced his mother again, faced this desolate emptiness, he felt a deep sorrow, as if all the loneliness and pain of the past ten years had rushed over him, leaving him unable to resist.
A mournful flute melody drifted from an unknown direction, its sound mingling with the gentle breeze, sometimes clear and sometimes faint. Exhausted, he leaned against his mother's tombstone, wanting nothing more than to gaze at the misty clouds, as if in a dream.
Uncontrollably, a series of experiences surfaced in his mind, from gazing at kites soaring high in the sky as a child, to the woman swiftly wielding her twin knives despite his pleas, and later, the long mountain road he walked alone, carrying a bamboo basket back and forth under the silent moon... The unforgettable pain has finally become a fait accompli, but there are still many things that cannot be forgotten.
For example, Yue Ruzheng.
--You are the only Little Tang in this world, there will never be another one.
Lian Junchu always remembered those words. Many nights after she left three years ago, he would lie in bed, staring blankly out the dark window. Her seemingly joking words lingered in his mind.
Along the long mountain path, there was him, and there was her. In the quiet courtyard, she would lean against him, drifting off to sleep. When happy, she would hug him and laugh, her eyes sparkling like stars in the sky. When angry, she would lie alone by his side, stubbornly shedding tears. Looking back, the time he spent with her was so little, yet so unforgettable. The pen poking his cheek, the letter torn in two, the pastry stuffed to his lips, the shadows of the trees they watched side by side... those traces seemed like forgotten grains of sand, washed away little by little by the tides of time, yet now they seeped back into his heart.
You can't forget her, even if you deliberately hate her, try to avoid her, and try every means to tell yourself that she was just a passerby in your life. In the end, it's just self-deception.
Whether she called him Xiao Tang in a sweet voice or Lian Junchu in a stiff manner, every smile, every word, and every action of hers left a deep imprint.
His mother's only wish before she died was for him to live well. Perhaps, this simplest of wishes required him to do everything in his power to fulfill it.
Have you been happy all these years?
Even though I know the answer, for some reason, I want to ask myself and her at this moment.
As he left Qiongtan, the sound of the flute gradually faded away. He didn't dwell on why anyone else would linger in this desolate place; he simply looked back at the tombstone and made a wish.
Chapter Seventy-Two
As the year drew to a close, a festive atmosphere gradually filled Yinxi Cottage. Yue Ruzheng's injuries had not worsened, but she remained weak. Although Wei Heng had not yet returned to Luzhou, Qi Yun had informed her that he would arrive soon.
Jiang Shuying felt much more at ease upon hearing that Wei Heng had invited Hai Qiongzi's disciple. Taking advantage of this moment, Qian'er, who had long been unmarried, finally married a guard from Yinxi Xiaozhu.
Although her wedding banquet was very simple, she had everything a bride should have. Yue Ruzheng watched as she wore a bright red wedding dress and a veil, and was led by the groom to perform the traditional kowtow ceremony to Jiang Shuying. She then watched as she slowly entered the bridal chamber, where the flames of the dragon and phoenix candles in the hall flickered, illuminating the delicate embroidery on her wedding dress.
This was a token of her affection, which she sent to her only maidservant as soon as she had recovered somewhat.