INE Chapter 110: The Road Ahead

After entering the city gates, Ji Rong planned to hand Drunken Samsara over to her father, then quietly take Gu Baiyi and slip back to Wanjian Sect.

Gu Baiyi didn’t follow her in. She remained seated in the carriage, eyes lowered as she flipped through the The Hidden Records of Cultivation.

She was tactful enough to leave space for the father and daughter to be alone, choosing instead to wait for Ji Rong outside the city.

The farther Ji Rong went, the more a faint smile tugged at Gu Baiyi’s lips.

Even at this distance, her “Uncertainty” hadn’t flared up.

So, unknowingly, Senior Sister had already come to fully trust her.

Gu Baiyi had been smiling faintly, but when her eyes landed on a certain passage in the book, her smile slowly faded.

On page 223 of The Hidden Records of Cultivation, a legend about the True Immortal of Scattered Flowers and the Five Divine Swords was recorded.

Scattered Flowers forged swords, sacrificing five hundred boys and girls.

Later, they sought a body with a Yin constitution as the vessel, used the blood of a heavenly demon as the guide, and attempted to reverse time and bring someone back to life.

Her fingers paused on that page, her face showing no extra expression.

She just stared at the words “Yin constitution” and “heavenly demon’s blood." unable to turn the page.

Who exactly had written this book?

…

Inside the Taiping Hall.

Ji Rong ate slowly, tightly gripping the small bottle containing Drunken Samsara.

She recalled how Madam Ji had handed it to her, softly urging, “Changqin, my time has come. I don’t wish to use a puppet to cling to life anymore… I just hope your father can forget me.”

For a moment, Ji Rong felt rather awkward.

How exactly was she supposed to give this to her father?

She looked at the white hairs streaking Ji An’s temples.

There was no way she could simply place Drunken Samsara in front of him and expect him to drink it. No sane person would.

As she was puzzling over how to deliver it subtly, Ji An unexpectedly broke the silence: “My daughter, you visited your mother today, was she any better?”

Ji Rong set her bowl and chopsticks down expressionlessly.

What could she say? All she could do was become a cold, nodding machine.

So Ji Rong feigned calm and replied with a nod, “Mother’s doing much better now.”

Hearing that, Ji An smiled faintly. “After all these years cultivating at Wanjian Sect, you’ve finally learned how to lie.”

“…"

I didn’t, I swear.

Seeing Ji Rong remain silent, Ji An only looked at her gently and said with a smile, “There’s no need to feel awkward. I’ve always understood your mother’s state of mind. I just couldn’t bear to let go.”

At that, Ji Rong thought for a moment and offered a small suggestion: “If you can’t let go, maybe you could try persuading her?”

Although Ji An and Madam Ji weren’t her biological parents, they had treated her very well. So her words were sincere.

Ji Rong figured Madam Ji likely couldn’t get past her grief after losing her daughter and was set on death as a result.

In modern terms, it would be called postpartum depression.

With proper psychological counseling, she might still be saved.

But Ji An only smiled and replied, “I’ve always known your mother’s temperament. She has her own thoughts. I couldn’t persuade her even if I tried.”

How would you know if you haven’t even tried?

Before Ji Rong could retort, Ji An suddenly changed the subject: “Changqin, do you know why Madam Mo went mad?”

Madam Mo?

Ji Rong blinked, her train of thought disrupted.

How would I know the affairs of an elder from generations past?

So she answered honestly and shook her head.

Ji An sighed and continued, “Madam Mo lived for over five hundred years. All her old friends and acquaintances have long disappeared. Even the man she loved in her youth turned to dust.”

“After centuries passed her by, she spent her days in the company of puppets, lonely beyond words.”

Ji Rong frowned, remembering something. “But didn’t she still have Madam Mo with her? Surely she wasn’t completely alone.”

Ji An’s tone was soft, but what he said left Ji Rong stunned: “Actually, Madam Mo wasn’t her biological daughter. She was her disciple.”

“Puppet masters hold a unique status. Though they live longer than most cultivators, they cannot marry or take partners. Only after passing down their legacy to a disciple can they leave the Tiangong Workshop and pass away peacefully.”

Ji Rong was dumbfounded.

Still, she kept a calm facade and asked, “If puppet masters can’t marry, why is she called ‘Madam’ then?”

Ji An explained, “Because the puppet is their partner. A puppet master’s life is long, and most of it is spent with their puppet.”

“Though puppets have no life or emotions, for someone like Madam Mo, who poured her entire heart and soul into crafting it, that puppet was both her Dao companion and the child she created.”

After hearing that, Ji Rong keenly picked up on a discrepancy. “If puppet masters value their puppets so highly, how could Madam Mo willingly use one to treat my mother?”

“By tradition, puppet masters are not allowed to extend a life with their puppets. They may only cure illness." Ji An said quietly. “Unless… that person agrees to inherit the puppet master’s legacy and become their disciple.”

Ji Rong was shocked. “So, the price for treating Mother with a puppet… was that she had to become Madam Mo’s disciple?”

Wait a minute, didn’t Madam Mo once lie and say that Gu Baiyi was her disciple?

Which means… Father must’ve seen through it long ago, but kept quiet out of consideration for everyone’s feelings?

“Yes. Madam Mo’s condition was to have your mother become the next puppet master." Ji An nodded, weariness showing on his face.

“But Mother already married you. Doesn’t that break the rules of the puppet masters?”

Ji An looked at the white porcelain bottle in Ji Rong’s hand and said softly, “That’s why I gave your mother a bottle of Drunken Samsara. Once she takes it, she’ll forget me. From then on, we’ll have no ties to each other.”

“…”

Ji Rong’s scalp tingle. The bottle in her hand felt hotter and heavier by the second.

On one hand, Ji An wanted Madam Ji to live. So he gave her the Drunken Samsara and allowed her to become Madam Mo’s disciple. The price was eternal forgetfulness, she would live long, but alone.

On the other hand, Madam Ji believed destiny could not be defied. She didn’t want to forget Ji An. Nor did she want to inherit the legacy of the puppet masters and extend her life with threads and string.

So she returned the bottle to Ji An, hoping he would forget her instead. She would face death with calm resolve.

Neither of them wanted to forget the other. Their methods were different, but they had unknowingly chosen the same path.

It was truly a difficult situation.

At that moment, Ji An looked at Ji Rong, as if unwilling to let her be caught in the middle any longer.

He extended his hand to her with a gentle smile. “My child, give the Drunken Samsara to your father.”

Ji Rong paused. It seemed Ji An had decided to compromise with Madam Ji.

She handed him the bottle.

Just when she thought he would drink it in one gulp, Ji An simply stared at the porcelain bottle without moving.

His gaze was soft and filled with sorrow, like he was looking at his beloved wife one last time.

Then, under Ji Rong’s silent watch, he slowly opened his hand and let the bottle slip from his palm.

The floor of the Taiping Hall was paved with jade from Mount Zhong, each tile priceless.

The sound of the bottle shattering was clear and sharp.

Like the breaking of a guqin string. A crisp echo like ice cracking against stone.

The liquid trickled along the jade, soaking into the carpet.

For a long, long time, Ji Rong said nothing.

Ji An stared at the shattered bottle on the floor, his hand still hanging in the air.

Framed by the gray at his temples, he suddenly looked far older.

After a while, he let out a quiet laugh. “Changqin, I’ve finally figured it out.”

“After all these years, I can still remember the first time I saw your mother. It was in April. Willow fluff filled the air, and a young lady pushed open a window in a small building, wide-eyed as she watched the bustle of the street below.”

“That day, a friend told me the clouds above were beautiful. I pulled my reins and looked up, but they seemed ordinary to me.”

“But when I lowered my head and met that girl’s gaze, I suddenly felt those clouds had turned into an endless field of green, stretching as far as the eye could see.”

Ji Rong saw the faint smile on Ji An’s lips and asked, “That girl was Mother, wasn’t she?”

“Yes.” Ji An nodded. “She’s the most precious thing in my life. Because since that day, I’ve never seen clouds as beautiful again. They became the most perfect thing in my heart, nothing can ever replace them.”

“That’s why I understand now. Maybe neither of us wants to forget that one most precious thing. She chose death to remember it. I choose life. Neither of us was wrong.”

“Your mother and I are both stubborn. Since neither could persuade the other, this bottle of Drunken Samsara has no reason to exist.”

Ji Rong looked at Ji An in silence for a long time.

She thought of the original body's blood and its strange properties. Slowly, she began, “Father, what if there was a way, ”

“My child, maybe what your mother wants isn’t a solution." Ji An interrupted gently. “She’s been at the mercy of others her whole life. She’s tired. Destiny has taken too much from her, and now she just wants to decide for herself.”

“But if she dies, doesn’t that mean she’s just fulfilling destiny?”

Ji An shook his head. “No. That’s not fate, it’s the path your mother chose for herself.”

“I used to think fate didn’t exist. But now, I believe in it. Maybe fate wanted to tear us apart, and that’s why I fought it so hard. Maybe that’s why our memories are so vivid, because they came from defiance.”

Ji Rong felt like she understood, and yet didn’t.

At last, Ji An lowered his hand and said to her, “My child, you don’t need to carry this burden anymore. I’ll bring your mother back from the Tiangong Workshop and be by her side until the very end.”

Ji Rong looked at him, a sudden sense of helplessness washing over her.

If this was the final choice her parents had made… then what could she do for them?

What was the point of her sister sending her to the cultivation world in the first place?

She had thought she’d changed so many things, but in the end, it felt like she had only walked a circle along a prewritten path.

And now, back at the start, she realized nothing had truly changed.

As Ji Rong fell into silence, Ji An raised his hand and gently patted her head.

“My child, since your mother and I have made our choice, there’s no need for you to stay any longer.”

“It’s time for you to make a choice too, to walk your own path.”