In the distance, the southern horizon appeared to have villages and mountains, but as Tan Yin approached, she realized it was nothing more than thick, swirling black mist, laden with resentment and hatred.
Tan Yin quietly gazed at this swirling mass of resentment, feeling deeply that this was the heart of Han Nü's miniature world, the center of the embroidered tapestry. The tapestry was covered in demonic power and resentment, obscuring its true form. If Tan Yin could find the original intent behind the embroidery, perhaps there would be a slim chance to break through.
Looking back, the world behind her was still twisted with interwoven black and red hues. The snowfield and Tai He from earlier seemed like illusions born of her desperate mind. The souls of gods were vast beyond measure—perhaps Tai He's lingering will was still present in this miniature world, waiting for her, waiting for this moment to save her?
Without hesitation, Tan Yin threw herself into the massive black mist. The resentment there was sharper than blades, cutting through her body and resisting her intrusion. It was pitch black all around, and there was no sound. Han Nü’s original heart, like a tightly closed shell, refused to be revealed to anyone.
Get out, get out! The resentful energy wrapped around her, pushing her away.
Tan Yin’s body glowed with a faint light as she released her divine power, gritting her teeth and forcing her way through. The blade-like resentment, upon touching her divine power, withered and fell like dried leaves. Suddenly, a low sigh echoed from somewhere unknown, and a bright light flashed through the darkness. The thorny, vine-like resentment vanished in an instant. Tan Yin, not having fully retracted her strength, almost stumbled to the ground.
“Sister!”
A clear, bright voice of a young girl suddenly rang out. Immediately after, a small figure ran past her. Tan Yin felt as if she had fallen into something thick and warm, slowly sinking. Before her, the sunlight was bright, and green trees swayed in the breeze. She found herself in a small, remote village at the foot of a mountain, with about a dozen scattered houses. The girl calling out “Sister” was around eight or nine years old, slender and thin, her clothes patched in many places. Although worn, they were immaculately clean.
The little girl called out joyfully as she ran like the wind into a modest, somewhat worn wooden house. The house was furnished with shabby, old furniture. The dining table had one leg missing, supported by a roughly cut bamboo pole. It was clear this family wasn’t wealthy—far from it, they were extremely poor. Yet, despite this, the floors and surfaces were spotless, showing the owner’s love for cleanliness.
With a “whoosh,” the side room’s curtain was pulled aside as the little girl dashed inside. The small side room contained a single bed, piled high with various threads and beads. A girl of about thirteen or fourteen sat by the window, diligently working on an embroidery. Despite her young age, her hands were deft. She was embroidering a scene of koi fish swimming beneath lotus leaves, her stitches tight and exquisitely detailed.
As the little girl burst in, the older girl didn’t even look up and said, “Stop running around. I’m almost done with this piece. Once I hand it in, I’ll buy you some meat dumplings.”
Tan Yin was startled by the familiar voice—was this Han Nü? Was this… when she was still human?
Han Nü rarely spoke about her life as a mortal. Did she have a younger sister? And it seemed her family had been quite poor—impoverished to the point of destitution. Tan Yin had never known such hardship; the Ji family, with its skilled craftsmanship, had always lived in comfort. Tan Yin glanced around, and her eyes finally settled on the gentle profile of the young girl by the window—it was indeed Han Nü. Her nose, eyes, and mouth were exactly the same, though much more youthful and pure in expression.
“Sister, give me some money!” The little girl ran up to Han Nü, smiling sweetly and lightly tugging at her sleeve.
Han Nü quickly paused her needlework, half-scolding, “I told you not to mess around! More money? Didn’t I just give you some yesterday? How did you already spend it?”
“Old Man Zhang came again, and this time he brought lots of fresh, fun things from outside. I really liked them!” The little girl pouted, shaking Han Nü’s sleeve with pleading eyes. “Just give me a little more money! Please, sister!”
Han Nü sighed, “It must be the other village kids making you envious again. A-Chu, our parents left early, and we’re not as well off as other families. All I can promise is that you’ll have enough to eat and wear. Don’t go comparing yourself to the other children in the village. Old Man Zhang comes once every ten days, always with something new. Do you want everything he brings? How long do you think we can keep buying things?”
A-Chu sulked, sticking out her lower lip. “But they all have things! You’re the only one who won’t buy me anything!”
Han Nü glared at her, but A-Chu fearlessly made a funny face back at her, causing Han Nü to break into a smile. With a resigned sigh, she pulled out a small coin pouch from her sleeve and poured out a few copper coins for her. “This is all for this month. Spend it wisely, because there won’t be any more.”
A-Chu giggled as she stashed the coins away and dashed off like the wind again. From the doorway, she called back, “Sister, why do you spend all your time embroidering flowers and grass? Why don’t you sell those moving ones? They’re so unique—surely they’d be worth more than the ordinary ones!”
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