Chapter 441: Chapter 441
Li Shenwu rose slowly from his seat, and the effect was like a mountain deciding to stand — a force of nature that reshaped its surroundings with mere movement. Conversations died mid-word. Even the wind seemed to pause. His presence consumed all available space, leaving nothing else. When he spoke, his voice was deep and resonant, echoing as a forbidden sea within an ancient abyss, a voice that carried the weight of centuries lived and battles survived. It was the voice of someone who had seen empires rise and fall, who had walked through the ’Dragon’s Eye’ before and emerged changed.
"Remember this," Li Shenwu began, each word deliberate. His voice resounded. "The ’Dragon’s Eye’ rewards clarity but punishes arrogance. Do not chase glory — others grant it only after survival. Chase living. Chase the next breath, step, decision that keeps you alive." He paused, studying their faces. Somber, he said, "A cultivator alive can return. A corpse cannot." Lowering his tone, he recalled, "Shattered dreams whispered through the corridors, his name now only a cautionary echo." He let the memory linger. His eyes fierce, he warned, "A corpse becomes a cautionary tale. Trust your comrades — they are your only certainty in a place designed to disorient. Guard your heart against temptation and despair. And never forget: the ’Eye’ sees deeper than your blade. It sees your intentions, fears, and hidden desires. It will use them against you."
He paused, stroking his beard in contemplation. His gaze swept the disciples. "If you falter, retreat immediately. There is no shame in recognizing your limits. If you are tempted by treasure or power that comes too easily, resist. Easy rewards in the ’Eye’ are always traps. If you become lost — when the paths shift, and you lose your bearings — remember the way out before the ’Eye’ closes. Once it seals, those inside remain until the next opening... if they survive." His voice dropped to a whisper: "Destiny favors the patient. The patient cultivator studies the terrain; the reckless one becomes part of it."
The hall was silent, every word etched into the hearts of those listening.
Shinsei stepped forward, his monk’s robes the color of undyed silk, flowing as though moved by a breeze no one else could feel. His calm aura hinted at hidden depth. He raised both hands in the traditional blessing mudra, fingers positioned with ritual precision. When he spoke, his voice was soft but carried to every ear with clarity, as though he were speaking directly into each mind.
"May your steps be steady on shifting ground," Shinsei intoned, voice measured, addressing the assembly. "Your hearts are pure despite corruption’s whisper, your intentions righteous even when righteousness offers no reward." He paused, letting the words settle.
Then he turned, gaze fixing on Ren. His voice gentler, he continued: "Ren, my disciple, remember the needle’s dance. Precision: every movement must have purpose. Patience: the perfect moment is worth waiting for. Sacrifice: sometimes the smallest offering yields the greatest result." A slight smile touched his lips. "Let your art pierce not only the heavens but also your doubts. Your greatest enemy in the Eye will not be external. It will be the voice that tells you that you are not enough."
Ren bowed deeply, folding at the waist until her forehead nearly touched her knees, hands pressed together in respect. Her heart trembled in her chest, a hummingbird trapped in a cage of ribs, with both fear that threatened to paralyze and resolve that burned like swallowed fire. When she straightened, her eyes were bright with unshed tears, but her jaw was set. She would not dishonor her master’s faith in her.
Ling Li pulled her daughters into an embrace so tight it bordered on painful. She wrapped her arms around both girls, holding them close in a determined attempt to memorize the solidity and warmth of their bodies. Her voice wavered with emotion as she spoke directly to them.
"Both of you, please be safe. Be smart. Be careful. Don’t try to be heroes." She swallowed, breath hitching as she continued, "I will wait for your safe return. Every hour, every day, however long it takes. I will be here when you come back." Then, loosening her grip just enough, she placed her palms on their cheeks and forced herself to meet their eyes. She finished, words trembling, "You are my heart walking outside my body. Come back to me."
As the sisters nodded, their outward calm belied the churning sea of doubt within. Beneath their confident smiles, whispered fears clawed at their resolve.
’What if we’re not strong enough?’
’What if we make a mistake?’
These silent questions echoed between them like a hidden dialogue they dare not voice. Despite their shared promise to their mother, each felt the weight of their unsaid worries: the uncertainty of an untested path, the unspoken promise to protect each other — a vow as fragile as it was fierce.
Ling Li stepped forward, releasing the girls, and immediately, Four Eyes turned to her. His hands trembled visibly as he pulled her close, and she melted into him, her face pressed against his chest.
"Honey," Ling Li said, voice muffled by fabric and emotion, "please be careful and return safely. Remember to avoid the black miasma — don’t test your resistance, don’t assume you can handle it. Just avoid it." Her hands clutched his robes.
"I, the twins, and the triplets I’m carrying — we will all wait for you. We need you to come home." She added. Four Eyes’ breath hitched audibly, his embrace becoming almost crushing in its intensity, as though he could keep both of them safe through sheer force of will.
Four Eyes whispered back, his lips against her hair, "I promise. I will succeed and come back. Nothing in that place will keep me from you and our children. Nothing." He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, his own wet behind his spectacles. "You stay safe as well. Take care of yourself and our babies. Don’t overwork. Let the others handle things while I’m gone."
"There are no happy reunions without parting."