Fox Spirit: One Sword Sweeps the World

Page 92

"Come here and wash your hands!"

Old Mrs. Mu turned around and glared at him, her tone slightly reproachful.

Mu Shenqi instantly deflated, like a punctured balloon, slumping his shoulders and muttering.

She quickly followed her mother's back, afraid that if she was a step too late, all the delicious food would be snatched away.

Mu Qinghan looked at his older brother's silly expression of going from heaven to hell in a second, shook his head helplessly, but a smile was in his eyes.

He turned his head and met Tu Shan Ya Ya's gaze.

Her eyes were also filled with laughter, sparkling like a sky full of stars.

The two understood each other without speaking, but slowly lowered their heads, their foreheads gently touching, their noses brushing together, their breaths mingling.

Suppressed, soft laughter escaped from the corners of their mouths, carrying a tenderness that only they could understand, filling the air with a sweet warmth.

A joyous and lively reunion...

Chapter 111 The Stars in the Sky Don't Speak

That night, the evening breeze carried the slight chill of early autumn, brushing against the sycamore leaves in the corner of the courtyard.

The rustling sound was very, very soft, so soft...like a sigh.

The lingering aroma of the food on the table, mixed with the sweet fragrance wafting from the old osmanthus tree in the yard, enveloped the two of them.

Tu Shan Ya Ya was half-curled up in the rattan chair, her cheek pressed against Mu Qing Han's warm shoulder, her hair gently lifted by the wind and brushing against his neck.

The scene at the dinner table was still vivid in her mind: Grandma Mu kept putting food into her bowl, her eyes crinkling into crescents as she smiled, saying, "Ya Ya, eat more. Qing Han doesn't know how to take care of people."

Old Man Mu didn't talk much, but he always nodded seriously when she spoke and handed her a cup of warm honey water.

The younger members of the Mu family surrounded her, asking her all sorts of questions, their eyes filled with unbridled curiosity.

These subtle moments of warmth, like shattered starlight, fell into her heart and into her eyes, making her unable to resist curving her lips into a smile, her laughter as soft as raindrops falling on flower petals.

Mu Qinghan tilted his head slightly, his gaze sweeping over the smile in the girl's eyes, his fingertips gently stroking the ends of her hair.

He gazed at the night sky above, the dark blue canvas studded with countless stars.

Each one was so bright and clear, like tiny diamonds that had been strung together with a fine needle.

"I told you, my family is easy to get along with."

His voice was soft.

"Well, yes."

Tu Shan Ya Ya looked up in response.

She followed his gaze, and the countless stars swirled in her clear eyes, like a pool of shattered silver.

Mu Qinghan's gaze finally settled on the brightest star, which hung in the center of the sky, its light gentle yet persistent, piercing through the thin clouds.

In a daze, the starlight seemed to solidify into a familiar outline.

Grandpa was wearing a faded blue short jacket. His back was slightly hunched, but still straight. His eyebrows were curved, and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes held an unyielding smile as he looked at him with a cheerful smile.

That look in his eyes was exactly the same as the look his grandfather gave him when he was a child, when he was practicing swordsmanship until he was drenched in sweat and his grandfather handed him a handkerchief. It was so warm that it could warm every corner of his heart.

"Qinghan has grown up and is getting married."

It was as if an old and gentle voice was falling with the starlight, gently tapping on his eardrums.

Mu Qinghan's breath hitched, and his eyes went unfocused for a moment.

He remembered that morning when he was six years old. It was just dawn, and the dew in the yard hadn't dried yet. He excitedly ran to his grandfather's door, clutching his wooden sword, and called out several times, but no one answered.

When I opened the door, the morning light shone through the window onto my grandfather's bed. The old man lay quietly with no expression on his face, his hands resting flat on his sides, as if he were asleep.

He didn't cry at the time, and didn't even immediately realize what had happened. He just wandered around the room in a daze, touched the bamboo chair that his grandfather often sat in, and looked at the old sword hanging on the wall.

That was the sword my grandfather used when he was young; the patterns on the scabbard have been worn away by time.

It wasn't until the day of the burial, when he stood at the back of the crowd and watched the coffin slowly being lowered, that he caught a last glimpse of his grandfather's peaceful face, and his heart felt as if it had been gently stung by something.

But... there were still no tears.

Over the years, he has always felt sorry for his grandfather.

His grandfather treated him the best. When he was a child, he was weak, so his grandfather would take him to the back mountain to practice breathing exercises every morning before dawn.

He was a picky eater, so his grandfather would find all sorts of ways to make his favorite sweet cakes.

Even bedtime stories are about the legends of chivalrous heroes in the martial arts world, hoping that he can become a responsible person.

But when his grandfather passed away, he didn't shed a single tear, as if he really didn't care at all.

The wind blew again, carrying a hint of coolness. Mu Qinghan subconsciously pulled Tu Shan Ya Ya closer to his arms.

I don't know when it started, but Grandpa's figure would always appear unexpectedly.

Perhaps it was when he was practicing his sword that he saw someone sitting on the bamboo chair and said with a smile, "Qinghan is really amazing, he learns so quickly and well."

Perhaps it was as he passed by the sweet cake shop at the alley entrance that he vaguely heard someone calling, "Qinghan, my dear, Grandpa will buy you something delicious."

Or perhaps it's during holidays when the family sits together that he suddenly remembers his grandfather's words, "Qinghan, grow up quickly, Grandpa wants to see you get married and start a career."

Tu Shan Ya Ya noticed his stiffness, called out softly, and reached out to touch his cheek, "What's wrong?"

Mu Qinghan snapped out of his daze, forced a smile, and hugged her even tighter.

He didn't speak, but simply looked back at the bright star.

My heart started to clench again, not with excruciating pain, but with a faint, lingering sense of oppression, like being wrapped in a thin veil, making it hard to breathe.

He knew that it wasn't that he wasn't sad; it was just that those emotions were hidden in the folds of time, quietly surging up on a starlit night, in a moment of warmth.

Grandpa must have seen it all, seen him grow up, seen him have people he wanted to protect, and seen him being lovingly cared for by his family.

Mu Qinghan thought to himself, his fingertips tracing through Tu Shan Ya Ya's soft hair, feeling the real warmth in his arms.

Starlight fell on his face, reflecting a slight dampness in his eyes, but he ultimately did not shed a tear.

Just like his grandfather taught him, a real man should stand tall and upright. He can keep his sadness in his heart, but he should carry love and hope and move forward well.

"Where do you think people go after they die?"

Mu Qinghan suddenly spoke, his voice carried on the night wind.

His gaze remained fixed on that bright star.

Tu Shan Ya Ya lifted her head from his shoulder, her nose brushing against his chin.

She looked up into his eyes, those eyes that were usually cold and aloof, now filled with starlight, but also held a hint of bewilderment.

Where do people go after they die?

She repeated it softly, "Of course it's reincarnation. You forget everything from your past life, are reborn into a good family, and live it all over again."

"Of course, if you are reincarnated and continue your relationship, you can also retrieve the memories of your lover from your previous life."

"Reincarnation..."

Mu Qinghan repeated in a low voice, "But... my grandfather told me that if a person misses their family after death and is reluctant to leave, they will become stars in the sky and watch over their family members until they let go of all their worries and can leave in peace."

His voice was very soft, as if he were murmuring to himself, letting out the words that had been buried in his heart for many years, under the starlight.

"The stars in the sky?"

Tu Shan Ya Ya was slightly taken aback and followed his gaze.

The star still hung in the center of the sky, so bright it was almost dazzling, its light flickering as if it were gently blinking.

She had never heard such an explanation before: that the life and death of demons are different from those of humans.

She was born from the Bitter Love Tree in Tushan. She had no parents from birth. Her earliest memories were only of the warm embrace of her older and younger sisters and the pink petals falling softly from the Bitter Love Tree.

If we're talking about family, besides Tu Shan Honghong and Tu Shan Rongrong, there's only Feng Qi from back then.

Thinking of Feng Qi, her heart felt a slight tug, and a faint bitterness spread through her chest.

She would rather that Feng Qi was really dead, like a human, either reincarnated or turned into stars, so that at least a tender memory could remain.

But that wasn't the case at all—he had become the most unbelievable version of her. All that tenderness and care he once showed had become the sharpest thorn in her heart, causing her to tremble with pain at the slightest touch.

The wind blew again, swirling up a few sycamore leaves, which landed at my feet.

Tu Shan Ya Ya silently withdrew her gaze, leaning back against Mu Qing Han's shoulder, her cheek pressed against his warm neck. "Then... Grandpa must be the brightest star. He's watching you, watching you be alright, watching us..."

Mu Qinghan didn't speak, but slowly raised his hand, his fingertips reaching towards the bright star, then stopped in mid-air, finally landing gently on Tu Shan Ya Ya's head and softly rubbing it.

Starlight fell on his eyelashes, reflecting the slight moisture in his eyes. He suddenly felt that what his grandfather said might be true.

Those lingering thoughts and unspoken concerns have all transformed into stars in the sky, quietly watching over those they wish to protect each night.

The girl beside him also had her own unspoken thoughts hidden in her eyes, like stars obscured by clouds, carrying a faint sadness.

He tightened his arms, holding her even closer in his embrace, as if he wanted to share some of his warmth with her, to shield her from the bitterness hidden in her memories.

"Qinghan, you must remember, a real man sheds blood but not tears."

"Qinghan, when you have a wife in the future, you must protect her well and never let her shed a tear, understand?"

"Qinghan, do you know how beautiful your grandma was back then..."

"Qinghan... I miss your grandma..."

"So cold and desolate..."

"It's late, let's go back inside..."

Chapter 112 Shall we shower together?

The steam from the bathroom overflowed the threshold, carrying a moist warmth that clung to the hems of their clothes.

Mu Qinghan stood by the wooden door, her fingertips still damp from testing the water temperature.

He gazed at the shimmering warm water in the bath, then turned to look at Tu Shan Ya Ya behind him, his eyes full of smiles.

"Want to shower together?"

"Ah! Together...together? I...I..."