Re-birth: The Beginning after the End - Chapter 52

Chapter 52: GRAND MASTER YU PART 2

Grand Master Yu’s expression grew serious, the earlier warmth in his eyes replaced by something harder. “Your parents brought you here tonight because they’re afraid,” he said, his weathered hand resting gently on Li Hua’s shoulder. “There are people—dangerous people—who would do anything to obtain yours and your brothers’ inner cores.”

Li Hua felt her parents shift uncomfortably behind her.

“Do you know how they could do that?” Grand Master Yu asked, his voice carrying a weight that seemed to make the amber light dim.

“Grand Master Yu!” her mother’s voice cut through the tension. “She’s only four—”

“Five,” her father corrected automatically.

“—five years old!” her mother finished; distress evident in her tone.

Grand Master Yu’s head snapped up, his eyes flashing with sudden irritation. The pressure in the room increased dramatically, causing Li Hua’s parents to take an involuntary step back.

“She needs to know,” he said, his voice softening slightly. “In our world, shielding children from the harshness of reality only hastens their fall into danger. Better they learn of the darkness while safely in the light, than discover it alone in the shadows.”

Her parents exchanged worried glances before slowly lowering themselves back onto their cushions. Though her mother’s fingers still twisted anxiously in her lap and her father’s jaw remained tight with concern, understanding gradually replaced their initial resistance. The truth in Grand Master Yu’s words was undeniable—they had seen too many cultivation families fall because their children, raised in ignorant bliss, had never learned to recognize the signs of danger.

Li Hua pulled on Grand Master Yu’s beard with both hands, her small fingers gentle as she played with the silky white strands. Looking up at him with wide, curious eyes and a tilted head, she asked sweetly, “Tell me, Grandpa?”

Grand Master Yu felt his earlier resolve melting under her innocent gaze, but he steeled himself, knowing the importance of this lesson. His weathered face hardened as he gently took her small hands in his.

“They use special tools,” he began, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper. “Sharp needles made of spirit-gathering jade, designed to pierce through the dantian.” His fingers traced a spot just below her ribs. “They insert these needles while the victim is still conscious, because they need the spiritual pathways to remain active. Then, they begin to draw out the inner core, slowly, like pulling silk from a cocoon. The process can take hours.” He paused, his ancient eyes studying her face. “The pain… they say it feels like having your soul torn apart, thread by thread. Very few survive the extraction, and those who do are never the same.”

His grip on her hands tightened slightly. “That’s why we must keep your inner cores hidden. That’s why you must learn to protect yourself and your brothers. Do you understand, little one?”

Li Hua nodded fiercely and said, “Protect family. Those hurt them…” she did the slicing motion on her neck, her small fingers making an exaggerated cutting gesture that looked cuter than threatening.

Grand Master Yu’s stern expression cracked, and a deep, rumbling laugh filled the chamber. The sound seemed to chase away some of the darkness that his earlier words had brought. He reached out and ruffled her hair affectionately, his ancient eyes twinkling with both amusement and approval.

“Such a fierce little warrior,” he chuckled, his white beard swaying with each laugh. “But remember, the best battles are the ones you never have to fight.”

Li Hua nodded solemnly, though her eyes sparkled with mischief. She’d already learned that lesson well—after all, why fight when you could simply convince your eldest brother that the last sweet bun had mysteriously vanished into thin air? Still, she understood the gravity beneath Grand Master Yu’s gentle humor. The art of deception and the gift of mercy were tools just as sharp as any blade, perhaps even sharper.

“Great grand disciple and Ming’er,” Grand Master Yu’s voice carried the weight of centuries, “what path have you chosen?”

Li Hua’s father straightened his shoulders, his voice steady despite the gravity of their situation. “We’ll remain in the village while the formation holds, using every precious day to prepare. When its power begins to fade, we’ll seek refuge in the Profound Valley.” His hands clenched slightly in his lap. “The valley’s resources will allow us to construct new protective formations more easily.”

“You seek not to confront your enemies?” Grand Master Yu’s ancient eyes studied them carefully.

Her father’s jaw tightened. “No, Grand Master. We seek only to buy time.” He exchanged a meaningful glance with his wife before continuing, “We’re searching for a way to cross between worlds—to find a realm where our children might live free from those who hunt us.”

Grand Master Yu fell silent, the amber light casting deep shadows across his weathered features. When he spoke again, his voice was heavy with implication. “Even if such a passage exists, do you understand the price? To cross between worlds would strip you of all cultivation, leaving you as mere mortals.”

“Then so be it.” Her father’s response came without hesitation, his voice carrying an iron certainty that made Li Hua’s chest tighten. “I would trade every drop of power in my veins to see my children safe.”

Grand Master Yu nodded slowly, his ancient eyes softening as he regarded the family before him. “Your resolve speaks well of you both,” he said, his weathered hand resting on the armrest of his chair. “When the time comes to leave, send word. I’ll ensure your path to the Profound Valley remains… unobstructed.” The pause in his words carried unspoken promises of protection, the kind that only a cultivator of his standing could provide.

“Thank you, Grand Master,” her parents said in unison, bowing deeply, their shoulders visibly relaxing with relief.

The old man nodded and turned to Li Hua, his stern features softening into a grandfatherly smile. “And you, child,” he said, gently touching her jade bunny pendant, “don’t disappoint me either.”

Li Hua nodded solemnly, though her eyes sparkled with mischief. “I make you proud, Grandpa,” she promised, her small hand reaching up to touch his weathered fingers.

Grand Master Yu’s deep laughter filled the chamber one last time, warm and genuine. “Of that, little one, I have no doubt.” He rose from his chair with fluid grace that belied his ancient appearance. “Now go, the night grows old, and young warriors need their rest.”

The amber crystals dimmed slightly, as if responding to his words. Li Hua’s father scooped her up in one smooth motion, settling her against his chest. As they prepared to leave, Grand Master Yu’s voice followed them, carrying both warning and warmth: “Remember, little bunny—sometimes the greatest strength lies in remaining unseen.”

“I see you later, Grandpa,” she said in her sweetest voice, earning one last fond smile from Grand Master Yu. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he watched them leave, his expression a mixture of grandfatherly affection and ancient concern. The jade pendant around Li Hua’s neck caught the fading amber light, casting tiny dancing shadows on the walls as they made their way out.

Once outside the inn, the full moon hung low and heavy in the night sky, its silver light washing over the barren landscape. Something about its glow made Li Hua tug urgently at her father’s robe.

“Wait, Bàba.” Her small voice trembled slightly as she stared up at the moon. A strange sensation washed over her, as if the moonlight itself was trying to tell her something. The silvery rays seemed to pulse with an otherworldly rhythm, calling to something deep within her soul—something that hadn’t existed in her previous life as an assassin.

Then it hit her—a flash of memory that couldn’t possibly be hers: the phantom sensation of soft lips against her ear, whispering with desperate devotion, “I’ll find you, my love.”

Her mind reeled at the intrusion, body reacting before thought could catch up. The jade bunny pendant swung wildly as she shook her head, its soft green glow pulsing in rhythm with her racing heart. Small hands clutched desperately at her father’s robes, seeking anchor as reality seemed to slip sideways around her. What the actual fuck was that? The thought blazed through her consciousness.

The logical part of her brain—the part that had served her so well as an assassin—kicked in with brutal clarity. Wait… this body is only five years old. The realization hit her like a splash of cold water. A five-year-old couldn’t possibly have memories of romantic whispers or desperate promises. Yet the vision had felt so real, so visceral, sending tremors through both body and soul. Those definitely weren’t my memories from my past life, and they can’t be this body’s either…

For the first time since her reincarnation, Li Hua found herself completely dumbfounded. She’d adapted to her new life with the cool efficiency of a trained killer, taking everything from cultivation to spiritual energy in stride. But this… this was something entirely different. This was impossible in ways that even reincarnation couldn’t explain.