Re-birth: The Beginning after the End - Chapter 55

Chapter 55: LOOKING BACK

“The poor thing,” Li Wei whispered, his voice carrying echoes of the beast’s own emotions. “It was driven down from the higher peaks by stronger predators. No wonder it strayed so close to the village.” His free hand reached out, fingers trailing with water essence that matched the tiger’s own spiritual frequency. “We can help you find a new territory, one where you won’t need to compete with elder beasts. Would you like that?”

The frost tiger’s defensive posture gradually relaxed, its earlier aggression melting away like spring snow. Its crystalline fur stopped crackling with hostile energy, instead beginning to resonate with the same gentle azure glow as Li Wei’s formations. The beast took one careful step toward Li Wei, then another, until it could press its massive head against his outstretched hand.

“Showoff,” Li Hua muttered, but her smile betrayed her genuine admiration. She deactivated her celestial diamonds, letting the golden afterimages fade as she sheathed her daggers.

“Says the one who was just dancing through the air like some kind of battle fairy,” Li Hao chuckled, dispersing his fire-water technique. “Though I have to admit, eldest brother, this one is impressive. Look at those frost patterns in its fur—it must be at least fifty years old.”

Li Wei’s eyes gradually returned to their normal color as he solidified the spiritual bond with his new companion. “She,” he corrected gently, scratching behind the tiger’s ears. “And closer to sixty. Her name…” he paused, listening to something only he could hear through their newfound connection, “…is Bai Ying.”

“Frost Shadow,” Li Hua translated thoughtfully. “It suits her.” She stepped closer, noting how the tiger—Bai Ying—watched her with intelligent eyes that no longer held any hostility. “I guess this means we’re not having tiger soup for dinner?”

“Sister!” Both brothers exclaimed in unison, though Li Hao’s tone carried more amusement than Li Wei’s scandalized one.

Bai Ying actually huffed what sounded suspiciously like a laugh, frost crystals dancing in the air around her muzzle. Li Wei’s successful taming had clearly granted her a greater understanding of human speech—and apparently, their little sister’s particular brand of humor.

“Fine, fine,” Li Hua raised her hands in mock surrender. “But eldest brother, you get to explain to the morning merchants why there’s a frost tiger lounging by their favorite hot spring.”

Li Hao’s laughter echoed through the trees. “Come on, we should head back before Father realizes we went hunting without permission… again.” He paused, glancing at their eldest brother. “Eldest brother, please tell me your new friend knows how to be subtle?”

In response, Bai Ying’s crystalline fur shifted, its brilliant patterns dimming until she looked almost like an ordinary mountain tiger—if one didn’t look too closely at the frost still gathering around her paws.

“Show off,” Li Hua muttered again, but this time she reached out to gently pat the tiger’s flank. “Welcome to the family, Bai Ying. Try not to encourage eldest brother’s mother-hen tendencies too much, okay?”

The tiger’s rumbling purr sent small ice crystals dancing through the air, a sound that somehow managed to convey both amusement and promise. Above them, the morning sun finally breached the mountain’s peak, casting long shadows through the forest as the siblings and their new companion began their journey home. Watching Bai Ying pad silently beside them, Li Hua couldn’t help but marvel at how far they’d come since their first clumsy attempts at hunting spiritual beasts. It seemed like yesterday when her parents met with Grand Master Yu, this secret visit marked the beginning of their true cultivation journey.

Since that fateful meeting, Li Hua’s life had settled into a comfortable rhythm. Each day was filled with purpose—training at dawn and lessons in the afternoon. Her parents had carefully balanced physical training with intellectual development, weaving traditional education into their daily routine. Every sixth and seventh day was reserved for rest, a practice their parents insisted on to prevent overexertion of their growing bodies and spiritual cores.

Though she dutifully observed these rest days in the physical world, Li Hua never truly stopped training. While her body appeared to rest, her consciousness would slip into her inner space where she maintained a rigorous training regimen. There, time moved differently, allowing her to push her limits and strengthen her physical form. Her discipline from her past life wouldn’t allow for true rest—not when every moment could be used for improvement. This secret training, combined with her daily spiritual water consumption, had accelerated her growth far beyond what anyone might suspect.

If her past life had taught her anything, it was that true mastery required more than just physical prowess. As an assassin, her most successful missions had often hinged more on careful planning and accumulated knowledge than raw strength. Now, watching her mother’s elegant hands move gracefully across rice paper during their afternoon lessons, Li Hua found herself appreciating anew the importance of scholarly pursuits, albeit for different reasons than her mother might suspect.

“A true cultivator must be as comfortable with scrolls as they are with swords,” her mother would often remind them while helping Li Hao with particularly difficult calculations. “What good is power without the wisdom to use it?” She would create elaborate examples to illustrate her point—teaching arithmetic through calculating spirit herb portions, practicing reading through ancient cultivation manuscripts, and demonstrating how poetry could help them memorize complex formation patterns.

“Even the greatest warriors in history were scholars first,” she would remind them. “The legendary Sword Immortal Bai Zhen defeated the Thousand-Eyed Demon King not through superior cultivation, but by understanding the mathematical principles behind spatial formations. And the Divine Physician Yu Mei saved more lives with her extensive knowledge of classical texts than with her spiritual power.”

Li Hua nodded along with these lessons, finding unexpected parallels between her past skills and these new teachings. Though her knowledge far exceeded what was being taught, she found herself genuinely appreciating her mother’s cultivation-based approach to education. The fundamentals that her mother so patiently explained opened her eyes to entirely new applications—where once she calculated projectile trajectories, now she designed formation angles; where she had once measured poison dosages with precision, now she balanced spiritual essence with the same exacting care.

These familiar principles, when viewed through the lens of cultivation, revealed depths she’d never considered in her past life. Her quick grasp of these complex concepts earned frequent praise from her mother, who attributed it to natural talent rather than the hard-won experience of another life.

Yet for all their rigorous training and scholarly pursuits, their parents never forgot they were raising children, not just cultivators. In their younger years, rest days meant joining the village children in their games—playing hide-and-seek through the market stalls, racing paper boats in the shallow streams, or creating elaborate stories beneath the shade of ancient trees. Li Hua remembered those days fondly, how she and her brothers would return home with mud-stained clothes and bright eyes, their mother shaking her head in fond exasperation while their father laughed at their adventures.

But as they grew older, their rest days transformed into something different. Curiosity drew them to explore the vast forest that stretched below the Great White Mountain. What began as simple wandering evolved into detailed expeditions—mapping hidden springs, discovering patches of wild spirit herbs, and hunting spiritual beasts.

The thrill of the hunt became their new challenge as they tracked down spirit beasts for their meat and cores, each sibling developing their own unique hunting style. Li Wei preferred to use formations to trap his prey, Li Hao’s fire-water essence made him excellent at cornering beasts, while Li Hua’s speed and precision made her lethal with her daggers. The forest became their training ground, each hunt teaching them not just about survival, but about working together as a team to take down increasingly powerful prey.

These hunting expeditions often led them to unexplored areas of the forest, where Li Hua’s secret generosity could work its magic. Using her inner space’s abundant resources, she would strategically “plant” jade pieces and gold nuggets along their hunting routes, ensuring her brothers would be the ones to make these fortunate discoveries.

Their excitement never failed to warm her heart—Li Wei’s proud presentations of their findings to their parents, accompanied by Li Hao’s elaborate theories about ancient cultivation sects leaving behind their treasures.

The combination of successful hunts and “discovered” treasures began to transform their family’s life in subtle but significant ways. Their parents could afford better cultivation resources and training materials, their daily meals included more nutritious ingredients, and their clothing no longer needed constant mending.

The village even began to view their family differently, attributing their improving fortunes to the siblings’ dedication and resourcefulness in exploring the mountain’s bounty. Li Hua took particular satisfaction in watching her family’s life improve, knowing that her past life’s wealth could finally serve a purpose beyond mere accumulation

Their family had also resumed cultivation practice four years ago, though recently Li Hua had been temporarily banned from advancing further. Her rapid progress to Martial Phase Rank 3 had concerned her parents—such swift advancement could lead to an unstable foundation if not properly managed. Her brothers weren’t far behind at Martial Phase Rank 2, but their steadier pace meant they could continue their practice without restriction.