Threads 347-Clan 2

The next morning, Ling Qi and her family were relaxing in the garden after Ling Qi had just finished a cultivation session with her mother, guiding her mother through the simple first realm cultivation art that she had chosen. Letters and messages had been sent out the night before, and Ling Qi would be meeting with a sect functionary later in the day to formalize her job submission.

Biyu had definitely been making use of the talisman brush Ling Qi had given her. A great deal of use.

Admittedly, most of them were just random splashes of color strewn across reams of rough paper. If they ever had any meaning, they were lost to a child’s wandering attention span and short memory.

There were ones with recognizable images though. One depicted the garden with the sun high in the sky and a squiggly figure that was Biyu herself. Another showed what was probably the night sky with a big, blobby white moon and speckled blue and white dots that were probably stars. Other paintings were of figures only identifiable due to Biyu’s chatter, including one of a puffy blue and white dog.

“I wanna ride!”

“Oh, do you, little sister?” Ling Qi held Biyu up in her hands, and the little girl kicked her feet, giggling. “Are you suuuuure you’ve been good enough?”

“Yes!”

Ling Qi glanced toward her mother.

“She has behaved herself,” her mother said, looking somewhere between amused and concerned.

“What do you think, Zhengui? Are you up for giving rides today?”

“Hmph. If it is littlest sister, then I, Zhen, will allow it.”

Zhengui stood on the garden path before them, shrunk down to just about a meter and a half long. His scales had a well polished shine to them; it looked like he had been well taken care of on the journey.

“Yeah! Gui will give littlest sister a ride around the garden. Gui wants to see everyone’s work since he was here last,” his other half chirped.

“It looks like you’re in luck today, Biyu,” Ling Qi said. “Now, hold still, okay?”

She lowered her sister down onto Zhengui’s back. He was still hot, even with his fires banked. An unprotected mortal might still have been scalded or at least uncomfortable touching his shell, but Biyu, wrapped in the gentle embrace of her domain and under Zhengui’s protection, was fine. Ling Qi settled her in the crevice between two of the blunt spikes of Zhengui’s shell.

“Littlest sister must hold on,” Zhen hissed. “Do not fall! Noble ladies must ride with dignity.”

“Kay! I won’t fall off, good turtle!”

She was amused to see Zhen’s serpentine head remain hovering near her anyway as Ling Qi herself stood up. “Once around the garden, okay?”

“Yes, big sister!”

Ling Qi and her mother stepped out of the path as Zhengui lumbered into motion. Shrunk to such a small size, his rocking gait did not exactly eat up ground quickly. But Biyu squealed in delight anyway, grasping onto the shell spike as she wobbled back and forth with the motion of his shell. Soon, they were on their way.

“She really took to that brush, huh?” Ling Qi commented.

“It took some time. At first, I think she was only interested in the mess she could make,” Ling Qingge said.

“What changed? It seems she’s enjoying actually trying to make images now,” Ling Qi wondered, eyes wandering down the path where Zhengui had gone. Zhengui had arrived a couple hours ago with the thankful caravaners.

“It was that girl, Yu Nuan. She had stopped by to work out a matter of her contribution to the household. She asked Biyu what she was painting,” Ling Qingge explained. “And when Biyu couldn’t answer, Yu Nuan suggested that she try making an image of something that made her happy.”

“That was the dog, I guess?” Ling Qi wondered. “She knows I haven’t asked for any dues from her, right?”

“She does.”

Ling Qi sighed. “It’s a shame she’s deployed right now. She should be here too.”

She was, after all, technically Ling Yu Nuan now.

Still, she hadn’t thought much about the brush. It was strange to see two of her decisions coming together to influence Biyu. She was still only a child, so there was nothing definite, but her little sister had seemed awfully excited to show her every last clumsy but earnest image.

Ling Qi felt the breeze tug at her hair, and she glanced up at the sky, clear and blue, strung out with strands of wispy white cloud. “I’m sorry if you are uncomfortable with the idea of the larger celebration, mother.”

She sometimes forgot how easily her mother could give way on decisions even now. She forgot her own influence and power here.

“Do not be. I am… I am too pessimistic at times.”

“You have every reason to be.”

“That may be, but there is a line between caution and wallowing. I have not found it yet.”

“Cultivation is good for ordering your thoughts, isn’t it?”

“It is, but if it grows worse, I can see why many falter, even with the boons offered.” Her mother said, brushing her fingers over colorful petals.

“It does get worse. You have to look at yourself with clear eyes… or carve the masks you wear into your own skin. There may be other methods, but I don’t know them.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“I do not know that I could manage, even if this soiled body of mine could withstand it. There are many regrets I would rather leave behind.”

“I’m not different. But I think it’s only with cultivation that you really can leave them behind. Just turning your eyes from the past doesn’t make them disappear. Regrets cling to you, weighing you down, even if you refuse to see them.”

“My daughter has become a philosopher,” Ling Qingge said, looking faintly amused.

“I’m sorry, mother. I fell in with a bad crowd.”

“Such terrible influences. I once thought this was all akin to a dream. I was terrified it would vanish when I opened my eyes. Now, it is what is behind me that feels like a dream. I am not sure what is more frightening. You say I should face my regrets. I don’t even know where to begin. I don’t know what the greatest among my regrets should be.”