Blossoming Path

Chapter 141: Broken Stems

Under the pale light of the moon, the man moved like a shadow, his blade cutting through the winter air with lethal precision. The sound of steel slicing through the frozen stems and delicate plants of the garden filled the night, each swing methodical, destructive. His eyes narrowed as he approached the nearly finished greenhouse, the fragile structure gleaming faintly under the moon's gaze. With a smirk curling his lips, he stepped forward, intent on reducing it to splinters with a single strike.

He raised his blade, preparing for the decisive blow, when he suddenly froze. A sensation crawled up his spine, prickling his skin. It was a feeling he knew well—killing intent. Cold, sharp, and unmistakable.

His grip tightened on the hilt of his sword as he slowly turned, scanning the dark garden for the source. His gaze fell on a white serpent, coiled beneath the snow-dusted bushes, its body shimmering with a faint blue sheen. The snake's hiss cut through the silence, its blue eyes gleaming with fury.

The man’s shoulders relaxed slightly, a chuckle slipping from his throat. "Just the snake," he muttered, tilting his head as he considered whether to kill it as well. “It’s only a matter of time before it becomes a nuisance.”

He took a step toward it, but something caught his eye, movement just above the greenhouse, high on the rooftop.

There, bathed in the soft glow of the full moon, stood a figure. A woman cloaked in a flowing blue silk robe that shimmered like water. Her face was obscured, half-hidden beneath the folds of her hood, but what struck him most were her eyes.

Too large. Too blank. Cold, emotionless, and unnerving. She glowered at him with an intensity that sent a chill through his body, freezing him in place.

For a moment, the woman stood perfectly still, like a statue carved from ice. The wind tugged at her robe, but she remained motionless, her gaze never leaving him. There was something deeply unsettling about her presence, her stillness unnatural, her silence deafening.

His heart hammered in his chest, his fingers twitching at the hilt of his blade. "What the hell…?" he whispered, backing away, his bravado slipping. "They didn't say anything about this."

Before he could even finish the thought, she moved.

A blur of motion, faster than his eyes could follow. The next thing he knew, she was no longer on the rooftop—she was upon him.

Her foot crashed into his chest with the force of a battering ram, the impact so sudden and brutal that his breath was knocked out of him. He barely registered the searing pain in his ribs as his body flew backward, crashing past the garden fence, and skidding across the cold ground. The world spun, and blood filled his mouth as he coughed violently, struggling to breathe.

The man wheezed, clutching his ribs, feeling the sharp sting with every breath. His mind raced as he forced himself to his feet, his vision swimming. Gritting his teeth, he lifted his blade, eyes wild with desperation.

This was no ordinary opponent.

With a growl, he swung his sword at her in a wide arc, putting all his strength into the blow. But the woman didn’t move to dodge. Instead, she raised her arm, bare and delicate, and deflected the blade with casual indifference.

His sword collided with her arm, and to his shock, it bounced off, barely leaving a small scratch. He stared, dumbfounded, as the blade trembled in his hands, the sting of the recoil shooting up his arms. "What the—"

Before he could finish, she struck.

A barrage of punches rained down on him, each one lightning-fast, blurring into a flurry of strikes. The blows weren’t heavy, but their speed disoriented him, forcing him back step by step as he tried to keep up with her movements. He swung wildly in an attempt to regain control, but it was futile. She was too fast, her fists hammering into him with precision, leaving him with no opening.

With a frustrated roar, he threw his sword to the ground, opting for hand-to-hand combat. His fists came up defensively, and he lashed out, striking at her midsection. To his surprise, she didn’t dodge this time. His punch connected with her side, and for a brief moment, he thought he had the upper hand.

He pressed forward, swinging harder and faster. Without the blade, he fought noticeably better, his strikes more fluid, more familiar. His confidence surged as he blocked her next punch and retaliated with a heavy strike to her ribs. She staggered, if only for a fraction of a second, and he grinned in triumph. This was it. He had her.

The man caught her fist in his hand, squeezing tightly. "Got you now," he spat, his grin widening as he looked her dead in the eye.

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Pain lanced through his leg. He looked down, his heart sinking as he saw the small white serpent—its fangs buried deep in his calf. Windy hissed, eyes glowing with an eerie blue light as the venom pumped into his bloodstream.

The man’s breath hitched as his leg went numb, the venom quickly spreading through his veins. His grip on Tianyi's fist weakened, panic flashing in his eyes. He cursed under his breath, his muscles twitching as the paralytic poison took hold. Staggering back, he tried to steady himself, but his limbs felt heavy, sluggish. He needed to escape, now.

"Show yourself, intruder!"

From a distance, voices echoed, sharp and urgent. The disciples of Narrow Stone Peak were coming, drawn by the commotion. He cursed again, louder this time. He had no time. His hand trembled as he reached for his fallen sword, but his body was betraying him, stiffening with each passing second.

With a desperate grunt, he turned and bolted into the night without his blade, his movements unsteady but faster than expected, given the venom coursing through him. He disappeared into the darkness, leaving a trail of shallow footprints in the snow.

Tianyi remained where she stood, her blank gaze following his retreating figure. The danger had passed, but the sound of approaching footsteps grew louder. She couldn't stay here.

A flicker of doubt crossed her face, the memory of Kai’s words flashing in her mind. He had warned her, told her not to reveal herself to these people. Her lips pressed together in a thin line, and with a swift movement, she scooped up Windy, cradling the serpent close.

Without a sound, she darted toward the house, her movements a blur as she slipped through the door. Inside, the shop was dimly lit, Kai still deep in his meditation. She hesitated for a fraction of a second, her instincts pulling her to remain on guard, but Kai's words anchored her decision.

Muttering quietly, almost as if reassuring herself, “Kai said not to reveal myself…”

She crawled under the bed, curling up in the shadows. Though hidden, she stayed alert, ready for anything.

I stirred from my cultivation, my senses gradually returning as the world around me came back into focus. The faint murmur of voices reached my ears, and I blinked, my vision adjusting to the dim light of the shop. Something felt off.

My muscles were stiff, a sign that I had been meditating for longer than I intended. But that wasn’t the problem. My eyes adjusted, and I saw them—Lan-Yin and Wang Jun, standing at the doorway, their postures tense, as if guarding me. A few villagers had torches lit, looking around in concern.

“Kai,” Wang Jun said the moment he saw me stir. His voice was steady, but there was something beneath the surface, a tension. “You’re awake.”

I sat up fully, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. “What happened? Why're you all here?”

Lan-Yin stepped forward, her expression serious. “Someone vandalized your garden. It’s... bad.”

I froze for a moment, my mind racing. Vandalized? My garden? I quickly pushed myself to my feet, ignoring the stiffness in my legs as I made my way to the door. The cold air hit me as soon as I stepped outside, and I looked toward the garden. My breath caught in my throat.

A chunk of it was destroyed. The delicate plants I had spent so much time cultivating were trampled, the once neat rows of herbs and flowers reduced to a mess of broken stems and scattered earth. The greenhouse... nearly finished, was untouched, but the surrounding area looked as if a battle had taken place. My chest tightened with frustration.

“Damn it,” I muttered, my voice louder than intended. “Who would...?”

I trailed off, noticing a familiar figure standing just beyond the fence. Wei Long. His expression was grim, his usually calm demeanor replaced with something far more serious. He approached, stopping just short of the entrance to the garden.

“The Five Fists are pursuing the trail,” Wei Long said without preamble, his voice low. “We believe the culprit fled after realizing they had been discovered.”

I clenched my fists, trying to keep my temper in check. “Did they see who it was?”

Wei Long shook his head. “No. The trail is faint, but they’re skilled trackers. If anyone can find him, it’s them.”

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to remain calm. My mind was racing, though. If they didn’t know who it was... I couldn’t afford to take any chances. My eyes darted discreetly around the area, searching for any sign of Tianyi or Windy.

A flicker of movement caught my attention near the base of the shop. Windy, coiled in the snow, watching me closely. It was as if the serpent knew what I was looking for. Slowly, Windy’s head tilted toward the house, his gaze fixating on the doorway.

My eyes followed, and I understood. Tianyi. She was inside, hiding. She had listened to me. Thank the heavens.

I turned back to Wei Long, doing my best to mask my relief. “Thank you,” I said, nodding to him. “I appreciate your help. Let me know if they find anything.”

Wei Long studied me for a moment, his expression unreadable, before nodding in return. “We’ll keep you informed. Stay vigilant. Whoever did this might return.”

As the first-class disciple turned to leave, his figure blending into the shadows, I remained rooted to the spot, my gaze slowly shifting back to the garden. The cold breeze stung my skin, but it was nothing compared to the ache that had started to form in my chest.

The Moonlit Grace Lilies I had been cultivating for months were crushed, their silver-white petals scattered like remnants of a broken memory. My hands trembled as I walked toward them, crouching down to gently pick up one of the trampled stems. It was limp in my fingers, the life force of the plant fading as quickly as my hope for their recovery.

The scent of crushed herbs and broken soil filled the air, but it was the sight of those lilies that hurt the most. They weren’t just any plants; they were my connection to my mother. I had nurtured these flowers as a way of remembering her, of keeping a part of her with me. And now...

My vision blurred, a lump forming in my throat as I struggled to hold back the tears. The weight of the destruction was too much. I clenched my teeth, my breath shaky, trying to find the anger I knew should be there. But all I felt was grief.

Deep, aching grief.

"Kai..." Lan-Yin's voice broke through the silence, soft and filled with concern. She knelt beside me, her hand resting gently on my shoulder. "I'm sorry."

Wang Jun stood behind her, his fists clenched, a mixture of anger and sympathy on his face. "We'll help you rebuild," he said, his voice firm but strained. "We’ll fix this."

I wanted to say something. To thank them, to tell them it wasn’t their responsibility... but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, I just nodded, my hand still holding the ruined stem of the lily, its once-vibrant glow now nothing more than a dull shimmer under the moonlight.

I had worked so hard, pouring my time and energy into these plants, hoping to create something beautiful, and a potent medicine in the case of an emergency. But this... this was beyond fixing with just effort. Months of cultivation, of care and attention, were destroyed in one careless moment. It wasn’t just the garden; it felt like a part of me had been trampled as well.

Lan-Yin gave my shoulder a comforting squeeze. “We’ll find whoever did this,” she whispered, her voice steady. “And we’ll make sure they pay.”

But I wasn’t thinking about revenge. Not in that moment. I was just thinking about the waste of it all.

"Why these?" I mumbled, my voice barely audible, speaking more to myself than anyone. "Why the lilies?"

I couldn’t shake the image of my mother’s smile as she had shown me how to prepare them long ago. The way her hands had moved so gently over the petals, her voice full of warmth and patience. I had carried that memory with me, and seeing the lilies bloom had been like a small piece of her living on. But now they were gone, and it felt like I had lost her all over again.

The cold pressed in, and I wiped at my eyes hastily, not wanting my friends to see the tears that had finally escaped. But they didn’t need to say anything. Their presence was enough, grounding me as I mourned the loss of something more than just a garden.

Lan-Yin sat beside me, her silence filled with understanding, while Wang Jun stood vigil, his gaze scanning the surroundings as if daring the attacker to return.

The night stretched on, the moonlight casting long shadows across the destroyed garden.