Re-birth: The Beginning after the End - Chapter 31

Chapter 31: DON’T REGRET IT

Li Hua’s muscles coiled tight as her hand moved with assassin’s instinct, reaching for a weapon that no longer existed in this realm of memories. She forced her fingers to unfurl, one by one, though the phantom weight of cold steel still haunted her palm.

“Who are you?” Her voice cut through the void, steady and sharp as a blade despite the unexpected presence that had invaded her consciousness

“Who am I?” The voice resonated through her consciousness like thunder across distant mountains, ancient and powerful. “You may call me Bai Feng, though few have earned the right to name me in countless millennia.” The words carried the weight of ages, like wind whistling through ancient pines.

“Your understanding will come with time, little one. For now, answer what I ask of you,” Bai Feng continued, each word echoing with wisdom born from millennium of watching mortal lives unfold. “Do you regret it? Do you regret pouring your essence into one who ultimately brought about your demise? Do you regret showing mercy? Do you regret the lives you chose to spare?”

Li Hua closed her eyes, letting the memories wash over her like autumn rain. Now, standing in the shadows of her past, she couldn’t bring herself to wish she’d chosen differently. “No,” she answered, her voice carrying the weight of certainty that came only from facing one’s own truth. “Those moments of mercy weren’t my weakness – they were my strength. Even if they led to my fall.”

Bai Feng fell silent for a moment, as if weighing the authenticity of her words against the vast tapestry of human choices it had witnessed through the ages. Li Hua felt its presence probing deeper, sifting through the layers of her resolve like wind through autumn leaves.

“Foolish. Humans and their emotions,” Bai Feng continued, its tone carrying centuries of witnessed tragedies. “Your kind clings to these fleeting moments of compassion like drowning souls to driftwood, never seeing how they drag you into deeper waters. Each life you spared became a crack in your armor, a flaw in your perfect design. And yet…” Bai Feng’s essence seemed to shift, like shadows dancing at the edge of firelight. “And yet there is something in your conviction that echoes of greater truths than mere survival. I’ll continue to watch you little one, though perhaps with more curiosity than judgment now.” The ancient wind’s words carried a subtle shift, like the first whisper of spring after a long winter.

Li Hua felt the weight of Bai Feng’s gaze soften, though whether in genuine understanding or merely amusement, she couldn’t tell.

“Can you send me back?” She asked hurriedly, anxiety creeping into her voice like frost across a windowpane. She was surprised by her own eagerness, the words escaping before she could trap them behind her usual wall of careful restraint.

“Yes, little one,” Bai Feng replied, its voice rippling like moonlight on dark water. “But this new life is wrought with equal if not more dangerous paths than that of which you left behind.” Bai Feng’s essence coiled around her like morning mist, neither threatening nor comforting, but heavy with warning. “Knowing this, knowing that the path ahead may demand even greater sacrifices, that your compassion may once again become your weakness… would you still choose to return? Would you still walk willingly into that uncertain dawn?”

“Yes.” Li Hua answered, the word left her lips with the quiet certainty of a blade being drawn from its sheath.

Her past life had taught her that hesitation meant death, but this wasn’t the calculated decisiveness of an assassin. This was different – a choice born not from training or survival, but from something deeper, something that had bloomed in the warmth of her new family’s love.

Bai Feng’s warning echoed in her mind like distant thunder, yet she stood firm, her resolve as unshakeable as mountain roots. She knew now that true strength lay not in the ability to take life, but in the courage to protect it, even at the cost of her own peace.

“Then I wish you well, child of three worlds,” Bai Feng murmured, its essence beginning to fade like morning dew under a rising sun. “You who have tasted both the bitter wine of death and the sweet nectar of love. Remember that it was not your blade that brought you to this crossroad, but your heart – that same heart which now guides you back. May it prove as keen as your former weapons.”

“Wait—” Li Hua called out, but Bai Feng was already dissolving like mist in morning light, leaving her with more questions than answers.

Three worlds? She thought to herself. What does Bai Feng mean three worlds?

Suddenly her vision blurred, and she felt herself falling, falling through layers of darkness until—

“Hua’er! Little Poppy!” Her father’s voice cut through the void, anchoring her back to reality. Li Hua’s eyes fluttered open to find herself cradled in her father’s arms; his face etched with worry. The familiar scent of earth and wheat that always clung to his clothes wrapped around her like a comforting blanket. Her brothers hovered nearby, their small faces pale with concern.

“I’m okay, Bàba,” she whispered, her voice slightly hoarse. The air felt crisp against her skin, grounding her firmly in this reality. The memories of her past life—and of Bai Feng—were already fading like morning mist, though their weight still lingered in her heart.

“You scared us, Little Poppy,” her father murmured, his large hand smoothing back her hair. “Let’s get home. The fields can wait.”

As he lifted her, Li Hua glimpsed the nearby farmers pausing in their work, their movements stilled by quiet concern for the child in their neighbor’s arms.

“Master, are you ok?” Little Firefly’s familiar voice, laced with anxiety pierced through her thoughts. “Our…our connection was blocked for a moment, and I couldn’t reach you.” The spirit’s voice trembled slightly, making Li Hua’s heart ache.

“How long was the connection blocked?” Li Hua asked as Bai Feng’s warning crept back into her thoughts.

“Less than a breath,” Little Firefly replied, confusion evident in its voice. “But Master… in all our time together, our bond has never been severed, not even for an instant.”

Li Hua’s eyes widened slightly. Less than a breath? But she had been trapped in that void for what felt like days. The discovery unsettled her, but she pushed the feeling aside, not wanting to worry her companion further.

“Don’t worry, Little Firefly. I’m ok.” She answered in her thoughts. “I’ll tell you more about it tonight, when we’re alone.” The spirit’s presence radiated warmth in her consciousness, a comforting sensation that seemed to pulse in sync with her heartbeat. Li Hua could sense Little Firefly’s lingering unease through their mental connection, but the spirit remained silent.

Li Hua closed her eyes, letting herself be carried home in her father’s strong arms, her brothers trailing close behind. She could hear their whispered concerns, feel their protective presence, and in that moment, she knew she had made the right choice.

“Bàba,” she whispered, her small fingers curling into the familiar roughness of his work clothes.

“Yes, my little Poppy?” Her father’s voice was gentle as he looked down at her, love and concern mingling in his eyes.

“I love you too, Bàba,” she said softly, letting the words she’d held back finally escape. She felt his arms tighten around her ever so slightly, and when he gently rubbed his forehead against hers, something deep within her heart shifted and settled into place