Journey to the End of the Night
Chapter 119 - 119 119 Old Affairs Should Not Be Sought

119: Chapter 119: Old Affairs Should Not Be Sought 119: Chapter 119: Old Affairs Should Not Be Sought Baili An nodded slightly, then instructed Chen Xiaolan, who had somehow ended up standing next to him, to go down and explain the situation to the villagers.

He himself stayed at the stall, continuing to make small talk with Meng Zifei.

Though their conversation seemed casual, Baili An already had a plan in mind.

This Meng Zifei, of unknown origin, radiated an aura that was hard to grasp.

Although he was warm and approachable, he somehow gave off a sense of flawless perfection.

Despite several conversations, he had not managed to extract the information he wanted.

However, he had planted the useful seed of Qi Yang; should Meng Zifei truly prove troublesome, it would not be difficult to catch him.

“Brother Si Chen, don’t you plan to have dinner here before you leave?”

Chen Xiaolan’s eyes seemed glued to Baili An.

As soon as she saw him preparing to leave, she sprinted from the end of the street to the front, her face flushed as she spoke hurriedly.

Baili An smiled and patted her head, “I won’t be eating here.”

Human food, after all, was indigestible to him.

But speaking of dinner, Baili An couldn’t help but think of Lin Yuan.

These past few days, nearly every so often, she had drawn a bowl of fresh blood for him.

Even though she came from Merfolk, such bloodletting was not without strain, especially now as the season neared winter solstice; the fruits in the Mountain Realm were especially astringent, making them a rather miserable food option.

And not to mention there was a Miss Fang Da in the mountains who always had her meals handed to her.

Since entering the mountains, he had heard her daily complaints about the grapes being too sour, the fruits causing indigestion, and more.

Thinking this over, he felt he had indeed shortchanged those under him.

With no choice, before returning, Baili An asked Chen Xiaolan to purchase some vegetables and poultry from the wilderness, planning to give everyone a feast upon his return.

As the sun set behind the West Mountain, darkness from the distant mountains soon began to spread to this side.

Chen Xiaolan watched the young man holding an umbrella disappear into the distance, waving goodbye with a sad expression, and couldn’t help murmuring, “Having parted this time, who knows if we will ever meet again.”

Meng Zifei, who was packing up the stall, shook his head and smiled, “Brother Si Chen has asked you to procure those things, indicating that there will be plenty of use for them in the future.

He will naturally come often to the village to buy supplies.

Of course, you can meet.”

Her gloomy expression cleared instantly, revealing a radiant smile.

After a moment of thought, she quickly made a decision, trotting up to Meng Zifei and timidly tugging at the corner of his robe, she softly asked, “Young Master Meng, Young Master Meng, could you teach me cultivation?”

Confronted by the hopeful gaze of the plain girl, Meng Zifei was taken aback.

Looking at her face, his thoughts became slightly disordered; memories overlapped as he remembered a child who also tugged at the sleeve of a taller figure clad in red, pleading incessantly, “Sister, will you teach me Cultivation, please, pretty please?”

In distant memories, the face of the woman dressed in a red Daoist robe had blurred in his mind.

He vaguely remembered the woman reaching out to the child, patting his head with her palm, her voice echoing in Meng Zifei’s mind, sounding resigned and bitter, “Cultivation is arduous, isn’t it better if your sister protects you?”

“Eh?

Young Master Meng, why are you crying?” Chen Xiaolan became flustered, clumsily wiping away the tear stains on his face with her sleeve.

She busily said, “If you don’t want to, then don’t, there’s no need for a grown man to bully a woman by crying.”

Meng Zifei regained his composure, his face slightly embarrassed as he spoke, “My apologies, I was just reminded of a past event.”

Chen Xiaolan responded with an “Oh,” her wide eyes still fixed on him, “Then, would you be willing to take me as your disciple?”

How could Meng Zifei not see that this young girl was troubled by affection?

Her so-called desire to enter Cultivation was merely a wish to be closer to the man in her heart.

In this aspect, he didn’t resemble her at all.

With a helpless smile, Meng Zifei looked at her, “It’s not that I don’t want to accept you.

Unfortunately, Cultivation requires innate talent.

Only those with a Spirit Root can cultivate and introduce energy into their body.

Miss Xiaolan, you…

do not possess a Spirit Root.”

“Ah…” Chen Xiaolan’s expression faltered, seeming somewhat disheartened.

But the image of Baili An quickly revitalized her.

Unwilling to give up, she clenched her fists and said, “I don’t know what Spirit Root is, but I believe diligence can compensate for lack of talent.

With a thousandfold more effort, I refuse to believe I can’t achieve the same success as others.”

Meng Zifei replied with a bitter smile, “If something exists in your dreams, it may indeed find its way, but if it doesn’t exist in dreams…”

His words trailed off as an unexplained pain suddenly gripped his chest, preventing him from finishing his phrase.

With a smile frozen on his face, he unconsciously caressed his chest, eventually letting his arms fall despondently.

Meng Zifei looked at the girl, his eyes not as clear as before but clouded with gray.

He said, “You’re right; natural ability has its own purpose.

A gentleman should respect what lies within himself and not covet what the heavens hold; it implies daily improvement.”

Under the increasingly bright and excited gaze of the girl, Meng Zifei picked up his sword, kissed the hilt, and with an inscrutable gleam in his eyes, said, “I will take you.”

Baili An walked home under the moonlight, with Ancient Vine lamps hanging on either side of the Mountain Realm path.

These Ancient Vine lamps contained no oil nor fire; their material was quite unique, the real light source coming from a natural luminescence within the vine.

They did not catch the eye in daylight, but at night, their light suffused the darkness enough to brighten it, preventing anyone from losing their way.

Although the light held no warmth, it inadvertently dispelled a bit of the melancholy in the woods.

Baili An’s face revealed a gentle smile.

He thought that walking on this homeward path felt genuinely wonderful.

Because in front of the path, someone was waiting for him.

Times of peace, an ordinary mortal life.

Thirteen Swords Jin Sheng had slept from day into night, and if one didn’t know that there was no wine in the mountains, one might truly believe that the young man spent his days in an aimless, inebriated existence.

Leaning against the tree house, Fang Geyu, always somewhat lazy, was learning how to make Ancient Vine lamps from Lin Yuan in earnest.

Although life in the mountains was Spartan and dull, her impatience to leave was nowhere to be seen.

“Hmm…

So the lamps along the mountain path were made by you?” Baili An was somewhat surprised, not expecting Fang Geyu to also be involved in making the lamps.

Fang Geyu characteristically displayed a proud expression, snorting, “It’s Young Lin who insists on making these damned lamps.

I only help because I can’t bear to see her struggle alone.”

Baili An smiled and approached them, his gaze falling on Lin Yuan’s creamy hands.

He slightly furrowed his brows and asked, “Have the injuries you got in the Mountain Realm last time not yet healed?”

The days of consecutive exposure had caused the merfolk thin webs between Lin Yuan’s fingers to crack and they seemed to have not healed since.

Yet Baili An remembered that Lin Yuan’s mermaid tail, which formed when she touched water, had regrown the scale armor that had peeled off, but only the webs hadn’t healed.