When Li Houshan brought Qingyue back to the gathering villagers, the tension in the air broke like morning mist under sunlight. Her mother, who had been pacing with worry etched in every movement, rushed forward the instant she saw Qingyue.
"Qingyue!"
Her voice trembled with both relief and reproach. She pulled her daughter into her arms, holding her tightly as if fearing she might disappear again. Her hands moved over Qingyue's arms, her face, checking for injuries with the anxious precision only a mother could possess.
"You reckless child!" Her voice cracked as she scolded. "Do you want me to die from fright?!"
Qingyue lowered her head. She knew she was at fault. Just a few days ago, she had fallen from a tree. And now this—disappearing into the forest, drawing a thunder tribulation, almost getting killed… any mother would be at her wit's end.
"I'm sorry, Mother," she whispered, her guilt genuine.
She hadn't intended to stay in the forest so long. Her original plan was simple reconnaissance and sparring with weak spirit beasts. But fate rarely followed anyone's plans. At least… at least her cultivation had progressed. And she'd successfully warned her grandfather about the serpent.
Li Zhen, her uncle, approached next. His condition had improved since she last saw him—no longer pale and weak, though his steps still carried the heaviness of recent injury.
"You okay, Little Yue?" he asked, ruffling her hair with a warm, awkward smile.
Qingyue blinked. In her past life, she had always thought her mother and she were burdens to the clan. After her mother's death, she had left the village silently, no one stopping her. She was barely ten then. But now—now she could see it clearly: genuine concern in their eyes, unspoken affection in their gestures.
She had changed. Perhaps her rebirth had opened her heart and mind in a way that allowed her to see past her former assumptions.
Still… if they cared, then why had her mother and she been assigned to a manor on the outskirts of the clan's estate, away from the heart of the village?
She didn't know. Maybe things weren't as simple as they seemed.
The group decided to return. They had found Qingyue, and the danger had passed—for now. But Li Houshan remained behind.
"I have urgent matters to handle," he said, his tone firm. "Li Zhen, take them back."
Li Zhen didn't argue. He held immense respect for his father, and though curiosity flickered in his gaze, he obeyed without question.
Qingyue, however, knew the real reason.
The thunder tribulation had surely drawn attention. Cultivators from surrounding villages would come to investigate. This was the perfect chance for her grandfather to rally them, to warn them of the serpent lurking beneath their feet.
She was glad. He had made the right decision.
---
Back home, the scolding continued—this time from both her mother and uncle. Qingyue endured it silently, head lowered like a wronged rabbit. Only when their anger had run its course did they allow her to sit down for a simple meal.
Afterward, she returned to her room.
The moment she stepped inside, a soft rustle greeted her. Three little heads perked up, furry ears twitching, eyes glowing with recognition.
They chirped in delight.
Qingyue's fatigue vanished in an instant.
The three cubs were nestled together, warm and sleepy. At the sound of the door, they scrambled to greet her. She quickly dispelled the formation she had set to conceal them and crouched down to check their condition.
The largest cub, previously injured, was now healed. He approached and gently wrapped his small arms around her own, licking her wrist with his rough little tongue. Though he couldn't speak, his golden eyes shimmered with gratitude.
"You're the clever one, huh?" Qingyue smiled, rubbing his head.
Each of the cubs was strikingly beautiful—soft reddish fur, tiny paws, and kitten-like chirps instead of roars. Their tusks hadn't grown in yet, so they looked more like fluffy spirit cats than sabertooth tigers.
One climbed onto her head, purring; another nuzzled her hand with a wet nose.
She hadn't yet figured out what to do with them.
Her mother didn't know about them. She'd have to come up with an excuse—maybe something about them being injured beasts she was nursing. Eventually, when they were bigger, perhaps they could protect the family.
If only she were in the Spirit Formation realm. Then she could form a soul contract and store them in her spiritual sea. But she was only at Foundation Establishment. That kind of contract was still far beyond her reach.
For now, she would have to keep them hidden and cared for.
Spirit beasts weren't like ordinary animals. Just like cultivators had spirit roots, they had beast cores. While they didn't actively cultivate, their bodies absorbed spiritual energy passively. It was a double-edged sword—convenient, but slow. That's why powerful spirit beasts were rare, except for those with noble bloodlines like phoenixes or dragons.
Sabertooth tigers weren't one of those. They rarely advanced beyond Spirit Formation. But Qingyue didn't care. Their cuteness alone was worth the trouble.
Still, they needed to eat.
She tiptoed into the kitchen after making sure her mother was asleep and returned with some dried meat. As soon as she laid it out, chaos erupted. The cubs dove in, scrambling and tumbling over each other in a miniature war for snacks. Qingyue chuckled, watching the fluffball frenzy.
Eventually, their bellies full, the cubs curled up again and drifted into slumber.
Qingyue sat down to cultivate.
She needed less sleep now. Her body, refined by spiritual essence, sustained itself more efficiently. Still, the door to the second stage of Foundation was tightly shut. No sign of progress yet. Each breakthrough took longer than the last. She reminded herself—Foundation had nine layers. She still had a long road to walk before stepping into Soul Formation.
She sighed.
And she still didn't have a weapon.
The Moonblades hadn't responded to her since the tribulation. They were silent, dormant. Until they returned to her, she couldn't rely on them. She needed something—anything—to use in battle.
But their village had no blacksmith capable of forging spirit weapons. Cultivators usually traveled to nearby kingdoms for such things.
In her past life, she had owned a spirit sword before the Moonblades came into her life. But it had never formed a soul bond—it hadn't followed her into rebirth.
She would have to go to Zhu Ling Kingdom. It was famed for its blacksmiths and array masters. But traveling there wouldn't be as simple as sneaking into the forest. She would need a proper plan.
Still, the thought of even a low-tier spirit sword excited her. It would double her combat ability. And she was no stranger to sword arts.
---
Far from her quiet room, back near the site of the thunder tribulation, cultivators had gathered. Her grandfather, Li Houshan, stood at the center of the group.
He spoke with grim urgency.
"That thing's seal won't hold forever. We need to act before it breaks free."
One cultivator added, "If we strike together, we might kill it while its cultivation is still sealed."
There were murmurs of agreement. No one wanted to risk the beast escaping.
But another raised a hand.
"Wait. Attacking might damage the formation. We should contact Zhu Ling Kingdom. If Emperor sends someone, we might have a real chance. Their cultivators are stronger… and they're master formation users. They might even know what the beast truly is."
The discussion paused.
Then slowly, one by one, the cultivators nodded. It was a reasonable plan. The seal was fragile—but without strength or knowledge, they might do more harm than good.
Besides, Zhu Ling Kingdom housed many powerful individuals. There were even rumors that the Emperor had adopted a princess.
An ice-root prodigy with unparalleled talent.