Re-birth: The Beginning after the End - Chapter 78

Chapter 78: NEEDED A DISTRACTION

Four stars pierced through the barriers between realms, their trajectories splitting across the vast cultivation world like fate’s threads unraveling.

The first star arced gracefully toward the Ascending Plateau Realm, its golden trail illuminating the perpetual mists that shrouded the Beast Tamer’s Sect. As its light dimmed to a mere ember, it descended through ancient barriers that had protected the sect for millennia. The star disappeared without sound or fanfare, and remarkably, no alarm bells rang—as if the realms themselves had granted it passage into this sacred ground.

The remaining three stars scattered across the Profound Valley, each choosing its own path through the night sky. They pierced through generations-old protective arrays as if they were nothing more than morning dew.

One star descended into the sprawling grounds of the Zhang Family manor, while the other two curved toward different corners of the Su Family compound, their light barely visible as they breached the ancient wards. Like celestial arrows finding their marks, each star vanished into the darkness, leaving only questions in their wake.

–

Sleep was a luxury she couldn’t afford tonight, not with her mind running endless tactical scenarios and combat possibilities. Her fingers twitched with unused energy as she stared at the sky.

I need someone who can actually keep up with me, she thought, jaw clenching in frustration. Someone who won’t break when I don’t hold back. Fuck this restlessness.

Thoughts of Mo Xing surfaced again—not of his honey-brown eyes this time, but of their encounter in the cave. Her jaw clenched as she recalled how effortlessly he’d matched her moves, possibly even held back.

For the first time in either life, she’d found someone who could not only keep up but might actually defeat her in a real fight. The thought was both thrilling and unsettling. Li Hua shook her head sharply, annoyed at how her pulse quickened at the memory. Focus on training, she commanded herself. He’s a distraction you can’t afford right now.

She changed into her cotton training robes and made her way to the back courtyard. Three wooden poles of equal height stood in a row where she and her brothers usually practice their qigong. Though simple in appearance, years of use had worn the wood smooth, each pole bearing the subtle marks of countless training sessions. The familiar sight of their family’s modest training space centered her thoughts.

With fluid grace that spoke of thousands of hours of practice, Li Hua leaped onto the middle pole. Her feet found purchase on the narrow surface with perfect precision, her balance absolute. The moon cast her shadow across the courtyard as she began the advanced forms of qigong—movements that appeared deceptively simple but required extraordinary control.

Time flowed like water as Li Hua moved through increasingly complex forms. Each transition was executed with lethal grace. The moon traced its arc across the sky, its light catching the occasional bead of sweat that flew from her brow during particularly demanding sequences.

Her breathing remained measured, controlled, even as she shifted into the more challenging movements. Single-leg stances held for minutes without trembling. Kicks that could shatter bone executed with perfect control, stopping just short of full extension. She pushed herself through forms that would leave most practitioners exhausted within minutes, her body’s conditioning over the past eight years allowed her to maintain the punishing pace.

The stars began to fade one by one as the eastern sky lightened imperceptibly. Still, Li Hua continued, her movements never losing their precision despite hours of constant exertion. The pre-dawn air had grown colder, but she barely noticed, her body warm from the sustained activity.

It wasn’t until she heard the soft creak of wooden floorboards that she allowed herself to pause mid-form. Her parents emerged from their wing, her father adjusting his worn cotton robe while her mother carried a basket meant for morning vegetables.

“Hua’er?” her mother’s voice carried quiet concern. “Have you been out here all night?”

Li Hua completed her form with deliberate grace before descending from the pole, landing softly on the packed earth. “Couldn’t sleep,” she replied simply, noting how her father’s weathered face creased with worry. Even after years of seeing his daughter’s intense training habits, he still fretted over her pushing herself too hard.

“At least come have some hot tea,” her mother offered, already turning toward the kitchen. “The morning dew isn’t good for your muscles.”

Li Hua nodded, knowing better than to argue. Besides, she could taste the approaching dawn in the air—time to prepare for another day, even if sleep had eluded her this night.

She followed her parents into the kitchen, the familiar scent of woodsmoke from the stove filling the air. Her mother immediately began preparing tea while her father took his usual seat at the worn wooden table.

“Hua’er,” her father’s weathered face creased with concern, using the pet name he’d given her since childhood. “Is everything alright?”

Li Hua hesitated for a moment, carefully choosing her words. “Bàba, I had a nightmare,” she admitted quietly, knowing she owed them some explanation for her nocturnal training. “I can’t remember much besides being chased. When I woke up, sleep…” she shrugged slightly, “it wouldn’t come back.”

Her mother set three steaming cups of tea on the table, the aromatic steam rising in delicate spirals. “Dreams have a way of disturbing even the strongest heart,” she said softly. “Would you like me to make you some sleeping tea tonight? The kind with chamomile and jujubes?”

Li Hua nodded her head. “That would be nice, Māmā.” She smiled warmly. Then she turned to her father, curiosity genuine despite her fatigue. “Bàba, why do you call me Little Poppy? As I recall, poppies symbolize death and—” And are the source of opium, she thought, her knowledge from her past life surfacing unbidden. The sleeping flower, as it was known in certain circles.

Her father’s eyes crinkled as he shook his head. “Ah, you’ve been reading too many dark tales, Hua’er. Poppies have another meaning—they represent resilience and strength because they can bloom even in the harshest conditions. They push through stone and survive drought, yet still offer their beauty to the world. Just like you, my little one.” He reached across the table to pat her hand gently, his weathered fingers warm against hers.