Hidden By Moonlight

The Taste of Home, The Edge of Blades

The morning sun crept gently over the tiled rooftops of the Taiyin Sect, casting golden streaks across the quiet courtyard.

Lin Yuan stirred from his bed, the scent of warm porridge drifting through the air like a tender hand brushing against his cheek.

Half-asleep, he padded into the small dining hall, rubbing his eyes and mumbling,

> "Mom… I want curry with fried rice today..."

There was a pause.

Lady Yuexian, standing by the table with a ladle in her hand, turned slowly.

> "Alright," she said softly. "I'll go buy some now."

Lin Yuan blinked, the fog of sleep lifting. His eyes widened.

> "Ah—sorry! I thought you were my mom..."

Yuexian froze.

Then, with a quiet smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, she replied,

> "It's alright."

A moment later, she rose into the sky.

But the word "mom" lingered like a bell tolling in her chest.

A quiet joy bloomed—but so too did a deep, aching sorrow.

She had no children. No partner. No parents. No true friend.

No warm hands to hold when the battles ended. Only duty.

For years, she had carried injuries in silence, healed alone in shadowed halls, and led her sect with grace—while burying her own dreams beneath layers of frost.

---

A Village Memory

She flew without purpose until she reached a small village on the forest's edge.

There, a young woman chased laughing children with rice balls, scolding and smiling all at once.

Yuexian hovered mid-air, breath catching—suspended between envy and wonder.

Then a voice rose from below.

> "You look like someone who's forgotten what she came looking for."

An old woman, hunched but steady, stood beneath a crooked tree.

Without a word, she led Yuexian through winding paths to a grassy field scattered with simple graves.

> "My first husband's there… then the second… third… and fourth. I buried each of them myself."

She pointed toward another section.

> "These were my husband's wives before me. At first, we were rivals. I hated them. They hated me.

But when he died—we cried together. We became friends."

Her finger moved to another row of markers.

> "When they passed, their children let them sleep beside him. I had many stepchildren.

Some called me mother. Others didn't."

She pointed higher—toward a hill crowned in shade.

> "And those? My children. My grandchildren. I can't remember their voices anymore."

The old woman turned to Yuexian, her gaze unflinching.

> "Now tell me, child. Is your loneliness deeper than mine?"

Yuexian couldn't speak.

> "Come. I'll show you something warmer than grief.

See that village? They're all mine. Every one of them is my descendant."

---

She led Yuexian to a narrow kitchen with soot-black walls.

> "Start a fire. Wash the rice."

Yuexian did as she was told.

Under the old woman's quiet instruction, she cooked the rice, stirred in beaten eggs, added herbs and oil, and let it all crisp.

They ate together.

Simple. Warm.

And somehow—it melted something frozen inside her.

Before she left, the old woman handed her a bamboo basket.

> "Take this. Feed someone with it.

You're a woman. Don't just lead like a sword.

Do what stirs your heart.

Some things are simple—even easy. But if done with feeling, they become priceless.

That's where happiness begins."

---

Back Home

Yuexian returned just as Lin Yuan, Qingxue, and Xiao Hu were setting bowls on the table.

Their faces lit up.

> "We were waiting for you," said Qingxue, smiling brightly.

She set three bowls down.

> "Egg fried rice. I made it myself. Curry's next!"

Xiao Hu shoved a spoon into his mouth.

> "Whoa! This is amazing!"

Yuexian chuckled, heart a little lighter than before.

> "Take Xiao Hu and Qingxue with you today," she told Lin Yuan. "Let them accompany you."

> "Yes, Sect Leader."

As Lin Yuan adjusted his robes, his gaze drifted upward.

On the guest balcony, Princess Wu Zhao sat—legs crossed, sword resting like a slumbering beast across her lap.

Her gaze did not move from him.

> She hasn't stopped watching me…

---

The Challenge

While other princesses practiced calligraphy or meditated beneath flowering trees, Wu Zhao leapt from the balcony in one fluid motion.

> "Sister Lin Yue," she said, voice overly casual, "come spar with me."

Lin Yuan blinked.

> "I… don't have much weapon training."

> "Perfect. Let's learn together."

He took a step back.

> "Maybe another time—"

Wu Zhao's eyes narrowed.

> "What's wrong? Afraid I'll find out what you're hiding?"

Her voice was soft—but sharp enough that Bai Ling and Princess Qingwu turned their heads.

Silence fell across the courtyard.

> "Is this really necessary?" Lin Yuan asked, heartbeat drumming.

> "Very," Wu Zhao replied. "I duel anyone I suspect."

> "Suspect of what?"

She stepped forward.

> "Of pretending to be something they're not."

Lin Yuan swallowed hard.

Qingxue stepped forward, voice firm.

> "Sister Lin isn't someone you can bully."

Xiao Hu marched up.

> "Yeah! She's our big sister. Mess with her, you mess with us!"

Laughter rippled from the nearby princesses.

Bai Ling sipped her tea and murmured,

> "Let her defend herself. She's more than she looks."

Lin Yuan exhaled slowly.

Refuse, and he would look guilty. Overperform, and he risked exposure.

The safest choice—appear clumsy, not cowardly.

He drew a training sword.

> "Just one exchange."

Wu Zhao smiled coldly.

> "One is all I'll need."

---

A Gentle Blade

The courtyard fell silent.

Wu Zhao moved first—fast, sharp, and ruthless.

Lin Yuan's response was fluid but modest.

He parried softly, using minimal effort, his movements elegant but lacking bite. He redirected her attack—not as a warrior, but as someone lucky.

Their blades clashed once.

Then Lin Yuan let his weapon fall and staggered back.

> "Ah—my wrist!"

Qingxue rushed forward.

> "Sister Lin!"

Xiao Hu shoved a cloth into his hand.

> "Did she hurt you?! I'll bite her!"

From the side, Princess Hong Yu snorted.

> "She moves like a dancer… but crumbles like a rabbit."

Wu Zhao didn't smile.

She stared hard at Lin Yuan.

> She's hiding something.

---

Seeds of Doubt

Later that afternoon, under a peach tree, Bai Ling sat beside Wu Zhao, sipping tea.

> "You still think she's lying?"

> "I'm sure of it," Wu Zhao said. "But I have no proof."

Bai Ling swirled her cup.

> "Then wait. The truth slips out when people stop being afraid."

Wu Zhao's eyes narrowed.

> "Or when they're too afraid to keep hiding it."

---

Nightfall

That night, Lin Yuan, Qingxue, and Xiao Hu ate together.

Xiao Hu's eyes lit up as he stuffed a spoonful into his mouth.

> "Mmm! This curry's perfect!"

But before they could settle, the Sect Leader waved them away.

> "Go enjoy yourselves. I want to try making curry alone tonight."

They left quietly.

Later, Lin Yuan lay in bed, heart still thudding like distant thunder.

Then a shadow appeared at the foot of his bed—Lady Mingyan, arms folded.

> "She's going to corner you soon."

Lin Yuan sighed.

> "Then I'll just stay away."

Mingyan's gaze was sharp.

> "Wrong move. Stay close. Make her doubt herself."

> "That sounds manipulative."

> "It's not manipulation. It's survival. And survival is… artful lying."

> "That still sounds wrong."

She smiled, though her eyes remained unreadable.

> "Good. Keep thinking that. As long as it feels wrong… you won't become a monster."

Next morning lin Yuan woke to the gentle sound of cooking and the warm aroma of porridge drifting through the air.

In the kitchen, Sect Leader Yuexian stood quietly by the stove, stirring with calm, practiced hands.

The memory of the previous morning flashed in his mind—when he had accidentally called her "mom." His face flushed slightly, but… it wasn't a bad feeling. In fact, it reminded him of something he hadn't felt in a long time.

Home.

Lady Yuexian glanced over. "What are you thinking about?"

Lin Yuan smiled faintly and tell a lie,"I was thinking about… our horse."

She gave a small chuckle but said nothing. For a moment, she almost asked him to call her "mom" again. But instead, she chose a different question.

"Tell me about your family."

Lin Yuan hesitated. "I can't really talk about them. But… if there's something specific you'd like to know, you can ask."

She shook her head gently. "No, it's alright. I was just curious. The truth is… I don't remember my own family anymore."

Lin Yuan looked at her seriously. "It's not your fault. My mother once told me: 'When you grow old enough, you start to forget your childhood.' It just means you get experience of real life."

He paused, then added with quiet honesty, "They say men shouldn't cry. But you're a woman… that means you're allowed."

That soft sentence undid her.

The woman who had led armies, held formations under siege, and stood firm when all others fell… suddenly couldn't hold back. Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled silently down her cheeks.

She tried to remember—her family, her childhood, any warmth she once had—but all that came were images of loss. Friends who had died, fellow cultivators who had vanished, protectors who never returned. Her head throbbed with the effort of remembering.