The first rays of morning sunlight crept across the crop fields, casting long, golden shadows over the quiet countryside. Little Water slowly opened his eyes. His body ached from sleeping upright against the broken cart, and his clothes were stiff with dried blood. The scent of iron mixed with morning dew lingered in the air.
Standing up, he looked down at himself. The once-clean robe were now soiled and stained with dirt and blood. Even his long hair had tangles of dried grass. He sighed quietly, brushing his fingers against the Clean cloth before noticing the embroidery. It was faint, but intricate—a flowing pattern of cranes and clouds sewn by hand. Unbeknownst to him, these designs were exclusive to royalty. It was something no commoner would dare to wear.
"I look no different from a wandering beggar," he muttered to himself.
A few hundred meters away, past a patch of wildflowers, Little Water found a small pond nestled among the reeds. The surface shimmered in the early sunlight, disturbed only by a couple of frogs leaping off lily pads. He knelt by the edge and began washing the blood from his face and hands. Then, after checking around to ensure privacy, he changed into the clean set of clothes the girl had left for him. They were simple, yet the fabric was soft and well-fitted.
He stared into his reflection. His beauty was ethereal—delicate yet masculine, a face that could rival the fairies of legend. Even disheveled, there was a divine elegance to him. Yet, he frowned.
"Why... do I look like this? What am I really?"
As he walked down a dirt path bordered by golden stalks of rice swaying in the breeze, he felt the quiet rhythm of mortal life around him. A few farmers were already in the distance, bent over their work, humming songs passed down generations. Birds chirped from nearby trees, and the scent of freshly plowed earth calmed him.
His mind, however, was anything but calm.
"What is life?" he whispered. "What is consciousness?"
Each step stirred more questions within him. "I think, therefore I am… but who is the 'I' that is thinking? Is it the soul, the flesh, or something else?"
The soft crunch of his footsteps mingled with his murmurings as he wandered into deeper thought. Even in a simple mortal realm, the mysteries of existence clung to him like shadows.
Eventually, towering walls came into view. The city gate loomed before him—not grand by cultivator standards, but for mortals, it was a fortress of stone and iron. Two guards sat lazily near the entrance, chatting and sipping tea. They barely glanced at Little Water as he passed through.
Inside the city, cobbled streets bustled with activity. Red and gold banners fluttered above stalls, and the scent of roasted chestnuts and sweet dumplings filled the air. Lanterns hung from wooden poles, and crowds filled the walkways in celebration.
He quickly realized something was different.
"Innkeeper says we're full! Prince Mu Jianxun returned today!" a man barked at another traveler.
Little Water tried a few inns. Each had a similar reply: no rooms. The entire city was celebrating the return of the royal prince from the Academy.
As he wandered deeper into the heart of the city, frustration mounted. He leaned against a shaded wall near a quiet alley, thinking of what to do next.
"Looking for an inn?" a soft voice asked from behind.
He turned—and was greeted with a sudden fist to the face.
His vision spun as his head hit the ground hard. Blinking through pain, he saw three figures looming over him. One was a girl with sharp eyes, another a boy with a mocking grin, and the third—a large man with a cruel face—was the one who'd punched him.
They rifled through his pouch and found the gold ingot and some leftover coins.
"Hah! Fancy clothes but traveling alone? What an idiot," the boy sneered.
The girl took the pouch and tossed it in the air. "Must've stolen these from somewhere."
The bodyguard spat on the ground. "Get lost, beggar."
The world darkened again.
---
When Little Water awoke, it was nearly noon. His head throbbed, his body was sore, and everything of value was gone.
Everything… except the sword, the book of Mortal Journey, and the empty pouch.
He sat up slowly, eyes scanning the busy streets around him. No one spared him a glance. The world moved on.
He clenched his fist. "Sitting here won't change anything."
He wandered through the streets, searching for food or a small job. But with his dirty clothes and bruised face, he looked like a vagrant. Shop owners shooed him away with sympathetic glances but no offers.
"I don't want your pity!" he suddenly shouted at one of the vendors. "I want work! I want to earn what I eat—not be treated like trash!"
The street quieted. A few murmurs passed through the crowd, but no one stepped forward.
Defeated, Little Water stumbled toward the temple on the city's eastern side. It was peaceful there. A stone path led to a courtyard shaded by ginkgo trees. Statues of old sages stood in silent reverence, incense smoke curling into the sky.
He sat near a fountain and fell into a restless sleep.
---
From the window of a grand inn across the street, a noble lady with delicate features and a gentle presence watched him quietly.
"Such pride," she murmured, resting a hand on her swollen belly.
---
Days passed. No shop offered him work. He survived by drinking temple water and sitting beneath trees, contemplating life.
Then one morning, a carriage stopped before the temple. Out stepped a noble lady, pregnant and glowing with grace. Her maids flanked her protectively.
Little Water, out of instinct, stepped aside, giving her a wide berth. He didn't want to bring misfortune upon her or her unborn child.
She turned and looked at him.
"Boy," she said, "here is some food. Take it with you."
He didn't even look up. "I don't want it. I need work."
The woman raised a brow. "Then I offer you a place to stay, clothes, and food. In return, all I ask is you eat what I give."
Little Water scoffed, lifting his gaze. "Even if you gave me a city, I would refuse to beg. And you should know—I saw you watching me from above."
She smiled faintly. "So you noticed."
"I don't take pity."
"Fine," she said. "Then I'll give you work. Are you satisfied now?"
He nodded slowly. "What kind of work?"
She touched her belly. "Take care of my unborn child... and the one already born. I'll provide food, clothes, a home, and even payment. In your free time, do as you like."
Little Water considered it. "That sounds easy, but... it's also hell sometimes. Still, I accept."
She extended her hand with a serene smile. "My name is Lan Ruyin. And yours?"
"Xiao Shui."
"Then, Xiao Shui, I'll call you... Xiao Shu. Come to my home tomorrow. My maid will explain your duties."
He bowed slightly. "Understood, Miss Ruyin."
As she returned to her carriage, Little Water stood at the temple steps, watching the sun climb above the city. For the first time in days, there was a small ember of purpose inside him.
Not because of pride.
But because someone had seen him—and still offered a hand without pity.
----To be Continued---