Meanwhile, on the other side, when the golden mist enveloped Ah Yao, it did not bring any intense emotional impact.
Instead, it was like a layer of warm, light gauze, gently brushing over her consciousness.
The surrounding scenery, like an ink wash painting, slowly shifted.
When Ah Yao "saw clearly" again, she found she could not move or speak.
Her perspective was strange, as if fixed at a high point, slightly looking down at the ground below.
Her vision was also a bit blurry, as if separated by a barrier, and the colors were somewhat dim.
She was in a small courtyard of a simple, ancient Taoist temple.
The temple seemed very dilapidated; the wall plaster was peeling, and weeds grew in the gaps between the tiles.
In the center of the courtyard was an old locust tree with all its leaves fallen, and beneath it was a stone well covered with a wooden board.
Farming tools and firewood were piled in a corner.
Is this... Heavenly Maiden Temple?
Ah Yao struggled to turn her "gaze" and finally saw a rough stone statue, half a person tall, in the corner of the courtyard.
It was a blurry female figure, her face eroded by wind and rain, her outline barely discernible.
And she, her "consciousness" at this moment, seemed to be anchored within this stone statue.
Was this the place where she had stayed for countless years before she was "born"?
Ah Yao felt a bit of novelty, but more confusion. Was Elder Die Wu's assessment to send her back into a stone?
Just then, the dilapidated wooden door of the temple creaked open.
A woman wearing coarse cloth clothes, her hair casually tied up with a wooden hairpin, walked in carrying a small wooden bucket.
Ah Yao's "gaze" instantly froze.
Is that... Master Mother?
No, that's not right.
The appearance was sixty or seventy percent similar, but the temperament was different, and the hair color was also different.
This "Master" did not have that cold, ethereal calm on her face, as if nothing in the world could disturb her heart.
There was obvious fatigue in her eyes, and her lips were slightly pursed, looking a bit stubborn and a bit distressed.
Her coarse cloth dress was washed pale, with patches on the cuffs and hem, and stained with mud.
On her feet was a pair of old cloth shoes.
She put the wooden bucket by the well, lifted the board, and skillfully turned the windlass, taking a lot of effort to pull up half a bucket of water.
Some clear water splashed out, wetting her skirt and shoes.
She frowned and muttered something in a low voice, seemingly complaining about something.
Then, she carried the half-bucket of water to the vegetable patch on the other side of the yard.
A few wilted vegetables were growing sparsely in the patch.
She picked up an old wooden ladle and carefully watered the vegetables, ladle by ladle.
Her movements were not exactly skilled, even a bit clumsy.
The watering was uneven; some spots got too much, while others were missed.
She crouched there, staring at the vegetables for a while, then sighed again.
After watering, she put down the ladle and walked to the old locust tree, where there was a small stone stool.
Not minding the dirt, she sat down directly, leaning against the cold, rough trunk.
She pulled out half a hard-looking, dark-colored steamed bun from her bosom and nibbled on it in small bites.
Her eyes were blank, staring at the gray sky beyond the low walls of the temple.
Sunlight filtered through the bare branches of the locust tree, casting broken patches of light on her.
The wind was a bit cold, blowing a few stray strands of hair across her forehead.
The entire courtyard was so quiet that there was only the sound of the wind and the occasional faint sound of her nibbling the bun.
Dilapidated, cold, lonely, and even... a bit pathetic.
Ah Yao was completely stunned.
This... this is Master Mother?
The Master Mother who was so powerful she was called the Empress, who could refine beautiful lotus pedestals, and who had the formidable Aunt Qingxuan and Aunt Ling Shuang revolving around her?
How could she be... like this?
Like the most ordinary mortal woman, worrying about three meals a day and a few vegetables, living in a leaky temple.
Wearing patched clothes, nibbling on hard buns, her eyes full of a dazed fatigue that saw no future.
Ah Yao's little head could not understand it at all.
The illusion seemed to sense her confusion, and the scene began to flow slowly, like a fast-forwarding scroll.
She saw "Master" repeating a similar life day after day:
Getting up before dawn to gather firewood in the nearby forest, her delicate hands scratched by withered branches.
Laboriously digging, sowing, and weeding in a small, barren field behind the temple, exhausted to the point of being unable to straighten her back, sitting on the ridge in a daze.
Carrying a broken basket to the village at the foot of the mountain to exchange gathered firewood or wild vegetables for a tiny bit of rice or flour.
She almost never smiled, her brow always slightly furrowed.
She would sigh at the poorly growing vegetables, and when she was tired...
Sitting on the threshold, looking into the distance, she would complain in a voice only she could hear:
"When will these days end..."
"It's been five years, why hasn't the System come yet..."
"So tired... I want to go back..."
"Living is just too hard..."
Ah Yao did not quite understand what "System" or "want to go back" meant.
But she could clearly feel that this "Master Mother" was very unhappy, very tired, very lonely, and even a bit... desperate.
Ah Yao just "watched."
From the initial shock, confusion, and disbelief, to gradually calming down.
And then... somewhere in her heart, it felt sour and astringent, a bit painful, yet warm.
She seemed to... understand a little.
Master Mother was not so powerful from the beginning.
Master Mother was once very weak and had a hard time, worrying about a meal or a piece of clothing.
Master Mother also had times of confusion, fatigue, and even wanting to complain.
But this Master Mother... Ah Yao suddenly felt a strong urge to hug that figure crouching by the door and sighing.
Not for any other reason.
Just because... she was the Master Mother who brought her out of the stone and gave her a new life.
The scene shifted again, becoming bright and lighthearted.
One day, "Master Mother" seemed to have exchanged something from the mountain that made her happy.
She twirled in the courtyard with joy and even gave a silly smile to the stone statue:
"Hey, Stone, I'm really lucky today!"
She saw it; it looked like a small package of malt sugar.
Master Mother broke off a small piece, hesitated for a moment, and then gently placed that small piece of sugar on the slightly open palm area of the stone statue.
"You eat some too."
She said with a smile, her eyes sparkling, though she soon looked at the remaining sugar with heartache,
"Sigh, just this little bit..."
The sugar on the rough stone palm was soon discovered and carried away by ants.
But that clumsy "sharing," carrying the scent of sweat and dust,
seemed to carry warmth, imprinted deep within Ah Yao's consciousness.
The final scene lingered on "Master" sitting on the stone stool, mending clothes by the last rays of the setting sun.
Occasionally looking up toward the stone statue, her eyes were tired, yet held an indescribable softness and expectation.
"Stone, oh Stone, do you think things will get better in the future?"
"Will I... one day die here just like the Old Man?"
"If only... if only there were someone to talk to..."
The warm light of the sunset gilded her figure with a golden edge.
The dilapidated temple, the wilted vegetables, the mottled stone statue... everything seemed to turn gentle.
Ah Yao's "vision" blurred.
She felt a very uncomfortable feeling in her heart.
She suddenly missed the current Master Mother intensely.
She missed the Master Mother who was cold and powerful, who would gently rub her head, who would refine beautiful lotus pedestals for her, who would teach the Junior Sisters, and who kept the entire Immortal Palace in perfect order.
She also missed... the one before her eyes, who would complain, sigh, clumsily grow vegetables, and share sugar with a stone statue.
No matter which one it was, she was her Master Mother.
She was the person who brought her from a cold stone into this warm and lively world.
The golden mist began to dissipate, and the scene of the dilapidated temple faded like a bleached canvas.
Ah Yao's consciousness returned to her body.
She was still standing on the Martial Arts Field, surrounded by other Disciples, with Elder Die Wu on the high platform.
The little one lowered her head, looked at her small hands, and touched the warm lotus mark on her forehead.
She did not talk to others like everyone else.
But her eyes were brighter and clearer than ever before.
In them was a realization unique to a child, yet incredibly sincere.
She seemed to love Master Mother even more.
It was not the kind of love that came from worshipping the strong, but from knowing that Master Mother had also worked so hard and struggled when she was small.
So she wanted even more to stay by her side forever, to ensure she would never have to return to that past—that kind of love.
To her, this assessment was more like a history lesson about "Master."
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