Before dawn, there is still a long way to go.

Chapter 97 Before dawn, there is still a long way to go.

Li Yuan remained silent for a long time. So long that Wei Shufen thought he wouldn't answer.

After a long while, Amu yawned, but then forced it back down.

Then he heard the voice, lower and deeper than before, like the water in a deep pool, bottomless: "Before I went down the mountain, I asked myself a question."

Wei Shufen held her breath.

"There are too many things in this world that should not happen."

"Some are suffering, some are dying, some are doing evil, and some are remaining silent."

"What can I, a mere Taoist priest, do alone?"

His voice drifted in the mountain breeze, and the stars seemed to shine even brighter.

"Later, I figured it out."

"Do whatever you can."

"Save as many as you can."

"Go as far as you can."

He turned around, his moon-white Taoist robe fluttering gently in the night breeze.

The firelight illuminated his face, which remained as handsome and composed as ever, but something was burning quietly in his gentle eyes.

That wasn't fire; it was something more enduring and more silent than fire.

It's the kind of light that stays lit even in the dead of night, in the wind and rain, in a corner where no one can see it.

Looking into those eyes, Wei Shufen suddenly felt a lump in her throat.

She quickly lowered her head and pretended to tend to the fire, carefully placing the nearly extinguished firewood back up to make the fire burn brighter.

"When I was little..." she said, looking down.

"My mother told me that there are three kinds of people in this world."

"Some people are like fire, burning wherever they go, leaving only ashes."

"One type of person is like water, flowing wherever it goes, washing everything away except for stones. And another type of person is..."

She paused, then spoke even softer.

"It's a lamp; it doesn't burn anything, it doesn't burn anything, it just keeps the light on."

"If you see it, you'll know where the road is; if you can't see it, it's still there, shining brightly."

She wiped her eyes with her sleeve, looked up at Li Yuan, and said, "My mother said I should be like a lamp."

"I didn't understand back then. I thought, what's so great about a light? It just goes out when the wind blows."

"Now I know that the wind can't extinguish a lamp."

"As long as there is one person watching, the light will not go out."

Li Yuan remained silent.

He simply stood there, letting the mountain wind brush against his clothes, letting the starlight fall on his shoulders, and letting the firelight flicker in his eyes.

Amu had already fallen asleep against the wall, emitting soft snores.

Awang also closed his eyes, and his breathing gradually became even and long.

The last bit of firewood in the bonfire burned out, and the firelight dimmed, leaving only a patch of glowing embers that flickered in the darkness.

Wei Shufen wrapped her clothes tighter, leaned against the door frame, and her eyelids grew heavier and heavier.

She had taken off her silver crown and was holding it in her arms; the delicate silver chains gleamed softly in the moonlight.

Li Yuan did not sleep. He stood under the old pine tree, gazing at the boundless darkness below the mountain.

Some of the twinkling lights in the distance had gone out, while others were still lit.

Those are other people's lights, torches carried by people traveling at night, and bonfires lit by night watchmen.

Under each lamp lies a story.

Some people are waiting for their children to come home, some are waiting for news from afar, and some are waiting for dawn.

Li Yuan closed his eyes.

The mountain wind has stopped.

The stars are brighter now.

In the distance, some kind of bird was chirping, its calls intermittent and broken, like the only sober one in the mountain night.

The night breeze completely subsided.

The branches and leaves of the old pine tree no longer swayed, and even the intermittent bird calls in the distance disappeared.

The entire mountain seemed to have fallen into a deep, bottomless sleep, with only the occasional crackling of the charcoal fire and the even breathing of the three young Miao people remaining.

Amu turned over, mumbled something indistinctly, and then fell into a deep sleep again.

Awang's breathing was very light, as if he was on guard against something.

Even in his sleep, this seemingly shrewd, tall, thin man never completely relaxed.

Wei Shufen leaned against the door frame, clutching the bag of silver crowns tightly in her arms, her brows slightly furrowed, as if she were still on her way even in a dream.

Li Yuan stood under the old pine tree, his gaze slowly sweeping over the three people.

Amu's bamboo basket lay askew to one side, the empty space left after the bronze mirror rolled away.

Awang had a short knife tucked into his waistband, the handle of which was wrapped in faded red cloth.

Wei Shufen's cloth bag was open, and Li Yuan could see layers of oil paper packets inside, with several silver needles sandwiched between them, their tips gleaming coldly in the moonlight.

There was also a very faint smell in the bag.

It's neither poison nor medicine; it's something more subtle.

That's a poison.

It is a unique aura possessed by those who raise Gu poison, an aura that is integrated into their flesh and blood, and cannot be washed away or hidden.

Wei Shufen's Gu poison was more powerful than her master had imagined.

But she herself probably doesn't know that yet.

Li Yuan withdrew his gaze and looked up at the night sky.

The stars have moved to the zenith, spreading out densely like a luminous river.

The starlight fell into his eyes, reflecting another, even deeper starry sky.

That is the Great Luo Palace within the inner landscape, the Sea of ​​Radiant Nature guarded by all gods, and the invisible net woven from countless threads of cause and effect.

The line leading deep into the Miao region has now been extended further.

It crossed Eagle's Beak Cliff, crossed the two rivers, crossed the old forest, and finally stopped in a place it could not see clearly.

It's not that I can't see clearly, it's just that the time hasn't come yet.

Some causes and effects only truly manifest when they come to you.

Li Yuan closed his eyes.

I don't know how much time passed, maybe an hour, maybe two.

The charcoal fire went out completely, leaving only a thin layer of ash, white and fluffy, like someone had scattered a handful of fine snow on the ground.

A mountain breeze rose again, blowing in from the mountain pass, carrying a damp, impending mountain rain.

Wei Shufen suddenly woke up.

She didn't move, she just opened her eyes.

Those bright black eyes blinked in the darkness, quickly adjusting to the light.

Moonlight slanted in through the temple gate, casting a silvery-white glow on the ground.

The figure in the moon-white Taoist robe was still standing under the old pine tree, his posture almost unchanged.

Wei Shufen stared at him for a long time.

She remembered the stories her mother had told her when she was a child.

There's always someone like this in a story, coming from a faraway place, dressed simply, not saying much, but with bright eyes.

He would appear when the village needed him most, help the villagers overcome difficulties, and then leave quietly.

No one knows where he came from, and no one knows where he is going.

My mother said that it was a messenger sent by the mountain god.

She believed it when she was a child, but after growing up, traveling around and seeing the world, she stopped believing it.

She felt that it was just a story, something the mountain people made up to comfort themselves.

But now, looking at that figure in the moonlight, she suddenly felt uncertain again.

"Can't sleep?"

Li Yuan's voice came from the shadows of the trees.

Wei Shufen was slightly taken aback, then realized that her breathing had given her away.

She decided to stop pretending, gently sat up, put the silver crown in her arms aside, and tidied her hair.

I had a dream.

She said her voice was still a little hoarse.

"What kind of dream?"

Wei Shufen remained silent for a while.

She looked at the silvery moonlight on the ground, at her own shadow in the moonlight, and at the tree branch extending from outside the temple gate beside her shadow.

Pine branches that came in.

"I dreamt of my mother," she said softly.

"She's embroidering a blue dress with lots of flowers on it."

She said she would make me wear it when I get married.

"But my mother didn't live to see that day. She passed away when I was twelve years old, bitten by a Gu worm."

"It wasn't the Medicine Immortal Society that caused it; it was the Gu poison in the village that went out of control."

"She was bitten while protecting me."

"Back then, our village was not very peaceful. There were wild Gu worms in the nearby mountains that would run into the village every summer."

"My mother and the others have to keep watch every night, burning mugwort, sprinkling medicinal powder, and repelling insects."

"I was naive back then and thought keeping watch was fun, so I secretly sneaked out to watch."

"And we really did encounter insects. Not just one, but a whole swarm."

"A dark mass, gushing out of the grass, like water."

"I was so scared I couldn't move, all I could do was cry."

"My mother rushed over, pushed me aside, and got bitten several times herself."

Wei Shufen's voice trembled slightly.

"My mother's legs, arms, and back were bleeding everywhere."

"I held her and cried, and she kept telling me, 'It's okay, Mom, it's okay.' But she passed away the next day."

The moonlight seemed a little dimmer.

A cloud drifted over from the other side of the mountain, obscuring half the moon and blurring the light and shadows inside the temple.

"Later, my master adopted me and taught me the art of Gu poison."

"She said, your mother died protecting you. You must learn to be skilled so that this kind of thing will never happen again."

"At that time, I thought, I want to learn the best Gu techniques so that I can protect everyone in the village."

"But after studying for so many years, I still..."

She didn't continue speaking, but simply pulled her hands back into her sleeves, hugged her knees, rested her chin on her knees, and gazed at the increasingly dim moonlight outside the door.

Li Yuan was silent for a moment, then spoke: "Your mother protected you, not so that you would live with guilt for the rest of your life."

Wei Shufen raised her head.

She protects you because she wants you to live a good life.

Li Yuan's voice remained as gentle and peaceful as ever.

"If you learn the skills and protect the people in the village, then you have done right by her."

"As for whether we can protect them or not, as long as we've done our best, that's enough."

Wei Shufen stared at him blankly.

Something was gleaming in those bright black eyes.

"Michiko," she whispered, "is there anyone you couldn't protect?"

The night wind picked up again.

The old pine tree's branches rustled, as if answering Li Yuan's question.

He remained silent for a long time, so long that Wei Shufen thought he wouldn't answer.

Then she heard the voice, lower and deeper than before: "Yes."

Wei Shufen's heart clenched suddenly.

She wanted to know who it was, when it happened, and what happened afterward.

But looking into Li Yuan's eyes, which were still gentle in the moonlight, she suddenly couldn't ask him anything.

Because she saw something deep within those eyes—not sadness, not regret, but something deeper and quieter.

"The day my mother passed away..." Wei Shufen suddenly said.

"The people in the village all say that she was taken away by the mountain god."

"She was so kind and protective of the village when she was alive, the mountain god will surely let her live in the best place."

"I didn't believe it back then; I thought it was just a lie to kids."

"But later, every time I kept watch at night and saw the fireflies in the mountains, I felt that it was my mother watching over me."

She paused, then lowered her voice even further: "My mother's name is Ayi. In our Miao language, it means 'moonlight'."

The moonlight shone through the clouds again, brighter and softer than before, falling on the temple gate, on the old pine tree, and on the figure in the moon-white Taoist robe.

Looking at the moonlight, Wei Shufen suddenly felt that perhaps her mother was really watching from heaven.

Watching her learn her skills, watching her protect the people in the village, watching her, in the dead of night, speak the words she had kept hidden in her heart for so many years to a Taoist priest who had come from a faraway place.

"Michiko," she suddenly asked, "do you have a mother?"

Li Yuan's gaze sharpened slightly.

That extremely subtle change flashed across the depths of his eyes, so fast that it was almost impossible to catch.

But his voice remained calm: "Yes, the person who gave birth to me is no longer here."

Wei Shufen's heart tightened: "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked." "It's alright." Li Yuan shook his head slightly, his gaze fixed on the distant night sky, on that boundless, silent darkness.

"Her giving birth to me is the greatest kindness she has ever shown."

"The rest is unimportant."

Wei Shufen did not ask any further questions.

She simply hugged her knees, watching the figure in the moonlight, watching those eyes gazing into the distance.

She suddenly realized that this Daozi was unlike anyone she knew.

He stood there, talking to her, but his gaze seemed to be looking into the far, far distance.

There is her mother, his mother, all those who have left, and all that is happening.

The night was deeper.

The clouds gradually dispersed, and the stars once again filled the sky.

Awang turned over in his sleep, mumbled something, and then fell back into a deep sleep.

Amu's snoring was intermittent, like a song without a tune.

Wei Shufen had fallen asleep again sometime later.

Her head was tilted to one side, resting against the silver crown, and her breathing was light and even.

The moonlight fell on her face, casting delicate shadows on her eyelashes.

The corners of her mouth turned up slightly, as if she had seen something wonderful in her dream.

Li Yuan looked at her for a moment.

Then he turned around and looked once again at the boundless darkness below the mountain.

A few more of the flickering lights in the distance went out. But new ones came on, I wonder whose lights were still burning at this hour.

Inside, the Daluo Palace stands eternally.

Deep within that moon-like radiance, the thread of cause and effect had already extended to the edge of that old forest.

Further ahead lies the Miao village.

Further ahead lies the Medicine Immortal Gathering.

Further ahead are those children.

Li Yuan closed his eyes.

A mountain breeze rustled through the old pine trees, making their branches whisper as if they were saying something.

Those sounds were mixed in with the wind, with the intermittent bird calls in the distance, and with the deep breaths of the mountain; no one could hear them clearly.

But Li Yuan heard it.

What he heard was...

There's still a long way to go before dawn.