The Weight of a Simple Gift

Mu Qingli forced herself to practice “Ming Jue Xuan Yin” to suppress the strange emotions in her heart. Now with Lin Mo’s strength, she could practice the skills freely for the time being and was no longer as stretched as before.

Emotional recovery.

Observing Lin Mo’s tear-streaked face with a cold gaze, a thought couldn’t help but surface in her mind:

‘Could a mere garment, stitched by her own hands, truly move Lin Mo to such an extent?’

‘Men are so easily swayed; a simple gift, especially a handmade one, is enough to secure their unwavering devotion.’

‘Men are truly contemptible.’

‘Considering what Lin Mo had said earlier, wouldn’t a slight kindness from her be enough to effortlessly bind him to her?’

‘Hmph, men.’

She had intended to mock Lin Mo internally, yet for some inexplicable reason, his radiant smile and the crystal-clear tears tracing paths down his exquisite face repeatedly flashed through her mind.

Even though the Bright Jade Profound Yin had suppressed her emotions, Mu Qingli felt her lips developing a will of their own, constantly yearning to curve upwards.

A burgeoning joy, like bamboo shoots after a spring rain, continuously sprouted within her heart, pushing aside the monolithic stone of indifference.

‘No, no, this is wrong!’

‘Mu Qingli, Mu Qingli! Snap out of it! This person is a man!’

‘You’re happy because you know you can control him! You can control this despicable man!’

‘You’re happy because you can finally resolve your own issues and fulfill your master’s dying wish!’

‘It’s certainly not because this man is so delighted by your gift.’

‘Absolutely not!’

‘Absolutely not… right?’

Mu Qingli found herself immersed in self-doubt; for the first time, her convictions wavered.

Meanwhile, Lin Mo continued to weep beside her.

“No… it’s not…” Lin Mo stammered, wiping away his tears. He couldn’t understand why he had suddenly started crying; the more he wiped, the more tears flowed, and his voice gradually slipped beyond his control.

‘No, no… he was a man; how could he shed tears so easily?’

‘No, he mustn’t cry…’

‘He couldn’t…’

‘He would die…’

‘He would die!’

‘If he displeased Mu Qingli, his death would be a gruesome one…’

“It’s… it’s just… I’m so, so happy… it… it feels like—”

It had been so long since he had received a gift.

Born with an illness, he had been bedridden for over a decade, yet he never considered his life tragic, for he had a loving mother.

Every year, his mother would knit him a sweater, each one embroidered with his name.

Each winter, a new sweater kept him warm.

During his ten years with the Qiu family, he had forgotten that he could still receive gifts, that someone still loved him.

But he couldn’t go back.

He could only survive in this world, striving to live, to forget many past events, and to consider the new advantages.

For instance, he could walk now.

He could leap and jump.

He still had many years to live.

He could visit countless places.

This way, he could forget the past.

Until now—

As Lin Mo gazed at the character “Lin” (TL Note: His surname) embroidered on the cuff, he felt that familiar affection once more. Though merely a semblance, this similarity was enough for him.

He wept, yet without sorrow; a smile of pure happiness seemed to grace his upturned lips, swaying gently with his trembling body.

“Forgive me, Sect Master… I’ve lost my composure! I—”

“It’s alright, I know how much you like it,” Mu Qingli interrupted Lin Mo.

She could detect the tremor in Lin Mo’s voice, easily discerning the emotions it held; his words were sincere.

‘Men truly are so easy to control.’

Mu Qingli smiled, yet even she failed to notice that her smile was no longer filled with scorn, nor was it a blend of defiance and disdain.

It was simply pure joy.

The joy of someone appreciating her gift, even if that someone was a man she detested.

Mu Qingli turned, her back to Lin Mo, and spoke: “Once you’ve cried enough, follow me. I have some matters to discuss with you. If not, I’ll return in half an hour.”

“No, there’s no need, Sect Master. This humble one has cried enough,” Lin Mo quickly wiped his tears and hurried to follow.

He was somewhat surprised that he hadn’t been punished, and even more astonished that… this garment had truly been made by Mu Qingli herself.

‘Given her status as Sect Master, shouldn’t she have simply given him a standard disciple’s uniform?’

This small warmth suffused Lin Mo’s heart.

‘Perhaps… not everyone was as tyrannical and terrifying as Qiu Yue.’

He quickly composed himself and followed Mu Qingli.

Mu Qingli led Lin Mo on a circuit, briefly introducing the Sect Master’s residence.

After their tour, Lin Mo realized that while the Sect Master’s residence was indeed within the core area of the Xuan Nv Sect, it was presently nestled in a tranquil valley. Above them, a colossal island floated in the sky, where, according to Mu Qingli, the disciple induction ceremony had taken place that day.

That was the heart of the Xuan Nv Sect.

Logically, Mu Qingli should have resided on that island, yet her current abode was situated in this secluded valley, encircled by dense, towering, and somewhat eerie forests, their interwoven branches obscuring most of the sunlight.

Although Mu Qingli stated that their cultivation technique required a cold, yin environment, no matter how frigid this place was, it surely couldn’t compare to the main hall from that day, could it?

Despite the Sect Master’s residence covering a vast area, its architectural layout was chaotic, with many buildings showing signs of long-term disrepair; numerous side halls were partially collapsed, and glaring holes marred their structures.

Most of these side halls served as storage or temporary accommodation, and the room where he had awakened was one such place.

Presumably, Mu Qingli had cleaned it, as the other areas were either thick with dust or in utter disarray.

‘For a Sect Master of the Xuan Nv Sect’s standing, even if the courtyard didn’t boast rare spiritual herbs or exquisite blossoms, it certainly shouldn’t be overgrown with weeds as it was now, should it?’

The courtyard even featured a dried-up canal, now barren. The verandas were draped in cobwebs, and some pillars had been largely consumed by insects and ants.

Their path was marked by a continuous trail of dust.

Mu Qingli, protected by her spiritual energy, remained pristine, but Lin Mo became increasingly dusty and disheveled with every step.

Upon reaching the main hall, one would expect it to be kept somewhat presentable, even if other areas were neglected. After all, the main hall was the largest structure in the residence, intended for the Sect Master to handle sect affairs and receive important guests.

Yet, the main hall was desolate; the vast chamber contained only a few dilapidated tables and chairs. The ceiling had several leaks, and many floor tiles were cracked.

The tables were devoid of scrolls or books, and the writing brushes were thick with dust.

To Mu Qingli, it was simply dismissed with a casual “for quiet cultivation.”

But to Lin Mo, this was no quiet cultivation; it was clearly a sign that she had been sidelined, Sect Master.

‘You’ve been stripped of power!’

‘No wonder she had to personally make his clothes; it turned out… she had nothing.’

Lin Mo had initially assumed that while he might be Mu Qingli’s tool in private, his public identity would at least be respectable, being a direct disciple of the Sect Master, after all!

As it turned out, the Sect Master herself was in such a dire state, let alone him.

However, Lin Mo dared not complain. Surveying the environment, he could only offer a thumbs-up and exclaim: “What an excellent environment for cultivation! Such simplicity must surely be at the Sect Master’s own request. This humble one has heard that a pure heart and few desires aid cultivation.

To think, Sect Master, you are truly formidable, possessing such cultivation despite suffering from backlash.

This speaks not only of your exceptional talent but also, presumably, of your diligent efforts.

Yet, the sect now blindly trusts the slanderous words of the Grand Elder, lacking foresight and utterly unaware of your true might, Sect Master.

This humble one dares to assert that if you were to lead, the Xuan Nv Sect would undoubtedly ascend to greater heights.”

“Silence, what do you know?”

Mu Qingli reprimanded Lin Mo, as if his flattery had missed its mark. Yet, this was not the case; had he truly misjudged, he would surely have been punished or beaten.

The mere light reprimand indicated that his words had resonated deeply with her.

Her averted gaze likely meant she was attempting to control her expression.

“Yes, Sect Master. This humble one spoke out of turn,” Lin Mo said, then made to slap himself.

He had always served Qiu Yue in this manner.

However, a wisp of clear breeze materialized, gently restraining Lin Mo’s hand before it could strike his face.

Mu Qingli’s voice then rang out: “There’s no need for your servant’s antics.

Though you are a wretched man, you are now also my disciple. Despite being a disgusting and detestable wretched man, I admire your courage and resolve.

Remember this, Lin Mo. From now on, you are my disciple, not my s*ave. Call me Master.”

‘Not my s*ave.’

Such a light, ethereal phrase.

Ten years.

Lin Mo had long forgotten he was human; he only remembered being a s*ave, constantly humiliated, tormented, and yearning for escape by Qiu Yue.

He had long accepted his identity as a s*ave, worse than a pig or a dog, a belief ingrained by a decade of constant reinforcement and insidious conditioning.

He no longer viewed himself as a person.

“I… am… a disciple?” Lin Mo repeated, his voice trembling with disbelief.

Something seemed to strike Lin Mo’s heart, stirring an inexplicable flutter within him.

It was as if a placid lake had suddenly rippled with countless waves, and from its center, something seemed poised to emerge.

He gazed at Mu Qingli’s back, and for some unknown reason, his heart began to beat rapidly.