Re-birth: The Beginning after the End - Chapter 64

Chapter 64: CONCEALMENT TECHNIQUE PART 1

Once they finished their meal, the siblings gathered in the back courtyard. They took their usual places on their cultivation cushions beneath the plum tree, where countless lessons had been shared.

Each cushion’s position had been carefully chosen long ago—arranged in a neat semicircle to catch the morning light while remaining sheltered by the tree’s protective branches. Their mother settled onto her own cushion with fluid grace, her robes arranging themselves in elegant folds around her as she prepared to begin their lesson.

“Do you know why I stopped allowing you to visit the village freely after Hua’er turned ten?” their mother asked once they were seated, her voice carrying that blend of warmth and wisdom they’d come to associate with their most important lessons. She didn’t wait for their response. “It wasn’t just because of Hua’er’s growing beauty, though that was certainly part of it. It was because I noticed how the village leader’s granddaughter couldn’t keep her eyes off Wei’er.”

Li Wei’s ears turned pink at this revelation, while Li Hao unsuccessfully tried to suppress a grin.

“Don’t smirk, Hao’er,” their mother continued, though her eyes held a glimmer of amusement. “That merchant’s daughter who keeps ‘accidentally’ visiting her aunt’s house when you’re playing wasn’t being subtle either.” Now it was Li Hao’s turn to blush.

“Our family’s bloodline carries certain… qualities that make others take notice.” Their mother’s eyes took on a distant look, as if seeing across realms and time. “In my youth, I learned the hard way that such gifts can be as much a curse as a blessing. The techniques I’m about to teach you were taught to me by my master, though I had hoped you wouldn’t need them quite so soon.”

The wind rustled through the plum tree’s branches, sending a shower of delicate petals spiraling around them. Their mother caught one in her palm, and before their eyes, the petal began to pulse with spiritual essence. “The ability to transform, to conceal one’s true nature—it comes from understanding that all things in nature contain the potential for change.” The petal in her palm shifted through multiple forms: first crystalline like morning dew, then verdant with awakened life force, before dissolving into pure light and finally returning to its original form.

Their mother’s elegant fingers traced patterns in the air, creating a shimmering screen of spiritual essence that reflected their faces like a mirror. As her hands moved through precise gestures, their reflections began to shift. “See how the essence flows? Every feature—the arch of a brow, the curve of a lip, the angle of a cheekbone—can be gently redirected.” The changes in their reflections were subtle yet profound, transforming their striking features into something unremarkable without losing their fundamental character.

“Hua’er,” their mother began, focusing first on her daughter as the most vulnerable of her children, “concentrate on your spiritual essence. Feel how it naturally flows through your meridians.” She moved to kneel before Li Hua, her hands forming intricate patterns in the air. “Start with something simple—try softening the curve of your eyebrows. Imagine your essence like morning dew, gently reshaping what it touches.”

Li Hua closed her eyes, sensing the familiar current of spiritual essence that had always flowed through her meridians. With delicate precision, she directed it toward her eyebrows, imagining the essence reshaping them as gently as morning mist settling on flower petals. When she opened her eyes, her mother’s approving nod confirmed her success.

“Very good. Now, boys,” their mother turned to her sons, “watch your sister’s technique carefully. The principles remain the same regardless of your cultivation base.” She guided Li Wei through the motions first, helping him direct his essence to soften the sharp angles of his jaw, then showed Li Hao how to blur the distinct shape of his eyes using gentle pulses of spiritual energy.

“Perfect, you’ve all grasped the basics quickly,” their mother nodded approvingly. “Now practice until you can feel the changes without needing to see them. Remember—subtle is best.”

The siblings, however, had other ideas about what constituted “subtle.”

Li Wei, ever the responsible eldest, started conservatively enough—slightly rounded jaw, softer eyebrows, unremarkable nose. But as his confidence grew, so did his experimentation. Soon his nose had grown so magnificently crooked it could have guided ships on a stormy night.

“Eldest brother,” Li Hua giggled, “I don’t think that nose helps you blend in unless you’re trying to hide among a family of parrots.”

Li Hao, never one to be outdone, decided to try adjusting his eyes. His first attempt left one eye dramatically larger than the other, giving him the perpetually surprised expression of a startled owl. “How’s this for unremarkable?” he asked, batting his mismatched eyes at his siblings.

“Well,” Li Wei snorted, “half your face certainly won’t be remembered. The other half might haunt people’s nightmares.”

Li Hua, drawing on her past life’s expertise in disguise, attempted something more sophisticated. She tried to make herself plain and forgettable—but apparently overshot. Her features became so aggressively average that they somehow looped back around to being memorable, like a painting that was trying too hard not to be noticed.

“Sister,” Li Hao wheezed between laughs, his own face still comically asymmetrical, “you look like someone tried to sketch a face from memory while falling asleep.”

Their mother watched her children’s increasingly ridiculous attempts with a mixture of amusement and resignation. “When I said, ‘help others’ eyes slide past,’ I didn’t mean by making them afraid to look directly at you.”

The siblings kept practicing, their features morphing through progressively more absurd configurations until Li Wei somehow managed to give himself eyebrows so bushy they could have housed a family of birds, Li Hao’s lips puckered like he’d been kissing lemons, and Li Hua’s eyes had migrated so far apart she could practically see behind herself.

“Children,” their mother finally interrupted, though her stern tone was somewhat undermined by the twitching corners of her mouth, “perhaps we should review the meaning of ‘inconspicuous.'”

The siblings quickly dissolved their exaggerated features, exchanging sheepish grins.

“Wait, Mother,” Li Wei asked, his expression turning thoughtful, “is your true face the one we see at home?”

Their mother’s laugh carried the warmth of summer rain. “Yes, what you see is my true face, though I’ve learned to temper its extraordinary qualities significantly.” Her elegant fingers traced patterns in the air as she continued, “With mastery, you can maintain different appearances for different people—letting strangers see only what you wish while those closest to you recognize your true self.”

As if to demonstrate, their mother’s features shifted subtly, aging decades in moments. Wrinkles etched themselves around her eyes and mouth, her skin taking on a weathered quality that spoke of years spent working under the sun. Even her posture changed, becoming slightly stooped, though her eyes retained their immortal gleam. “This is how the villagers see me—just another aging mother, unremarkable enough to fade into the background of their daily lives.”

Li Hua leaned forward, her instincts recognizing the masterful subtlety of the transformation. “It’s perfect,” she breathed, noting how each small change contributed to an overall impression of ordinariness. “You haven’t just changed your features—you’ve altered your entire presence.”

“Very observant, Hua’er.” Their mother’s features flowed back to normal like water settling into its natural course. “True concealment isn’t just about appearance—it’s about essence, about how you present yourself to the world. Now, let’s try again, and this time…” Her eyes sparkled with amusement, “Perhaps aim for something between ‘unremarkable’ and ‘village horror story.'”