Mystique Soul: A Cultivator's Flame
Chapter 68

Chapter 68: Chapter 68

Feng Jiao Xue stepped into the room, her breath hitching at the sight before her.

Her grandfather, the once, mighty Patriarch of the prestigious Feng Clan, was sitting slumped in a meditative posture at the center of the chamber

Without her realizing it, her eyes watered slightly at the sight of aging patriarch.

"Sister..." Mo Tianze reached out and kissed her tear away. "Don’t cry. You shouldn’t cry" When he said the last part, it wasn’t in the voice of the pure youth but the deep and rich, dripping with velvety warmth with a smooth, low timbre that curls around each word like a dark promise, effortlessly commanding attention.

However, Feng Jiao Xue attention was too focused on the old patriarch, her grandfather.

He was nothing like the jolly man in her previous incarnation’s memory. His form, once upright and imposing, was withered, his skin pale and almost translucent under the dim lighting of the cultivation chamber.

His once deep black hair which should have carried the luster of an immortal cultivator, hung in tangled strands,has turned into long silver strands, lifeless and as dried willow leaves. The air around him pulsed with volatile qi, dark, ominous and like tendrills of shadows.

Feng Jiao Xue can understand what Huang Jin De meant up close now.

He was powerful, really powerful but at the same time, he was weak.

His Qi was pulsing with like an uncontrollable force about to break out while his lifeforce was slowly being sucked away.

His breathing was shallow, his chest rising and falling in an uneven rhythm. Yet, despite his weakened state, she could sense it. The turbulent, nearly out of control qi swirling within him, fighting to burst free.

He was on the verge of a breakthrough.

"So, this is why they’re so couragious..." She muttered.

It has always baffled her. Even if her previous incarnation could not cultivate, she was still a young miss of the clan, favored by the powerhouse of said clan.

Normally, they should have been wary of the old man and not discriminate against her so blatantly.

Unless they knew that there was nothing to fear in the first place.

The higher ups kept it well hidden, her grandfather was nothing more than a paper tiger in their eyes.

And those below, seeing the attitude of those in power towards her, would clearly not fear as well. They’re courage growing over time....

A deep ache pressed against her chest, unfamiliar yet piercing. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. The real helm of the clan was an untouchable figure a pillar of their family, an unshakable cultivator who commanded reverence with just his presence, with just his name.

But now...

Now, he looked fragile, like a candle flame flickering against the wind.

Feng Jiao Xue’s fingers curled at her side before she forced herself to move forward.

As she approached her footsteps barely made a sound, but the old man suddenly stirred. His cloudy, unfocused eyes flickered open, his gaze sluggish as he lifted his head ever so slightly.

For a long moment, he simply stared at her.

"Gasp’ Feng Jiao Xue stood still, frozen in her place.

Then, his lips parted, and he breathed out a name, one she hadn’t expected.

"...Sying’er...?"

Feng Jiao Xue froze.

Her mind stilled, caught off guard, but the old man’s gaze had already softened, warmth flickering through the haze of his muddled consciousness.

"...You’ve finally come back" he murmured voice hoarse but filled with something achingly tender. "I... I thought I was dreaming again."

"Cough, cough, cough!"

Feng Jiao Xue’s heart clenched as she run to support the old man.

Sying’er.

Feng Sying

That was... That’s her mother’s name...

Her grandfather, her proud, unyielding grandfather, was looking at her, but he wasn’t seeing her. He was seeing the woman she had never met, the woman who had left before she could even speak her first words.

His muddled mind had mistaken her for her mother.

A thousand thoughts ran through her mind, yet none found purchase.

She wanted to ask so many questions.

But instead, she moved to slowly she kneel down before him, holding the old man’s hand.

"...Yes," she said, her voice calm despite the strange turmoil in her chest. "I’m here. I’m... back"

"Good, good. Cough! cough! Jiao Xue, echem, that little girl has waited long enough for her parent" He patted her head.

The warmth of his hand on her head...

Feng Jiao Xue leaned to his touch

...warm.

The old monarch exhaled and his body relaxing ever so slightly. His hand trembled as he reached for hers again his once powerful fingers now weak and skeletal as they grasped her wrist.

Feng Jiao Xue did not pull away.

She let him hold onto her, let him believe even if just for a moment.

As she took his wrist her other hand settled over his pulse, her own qi carefully extending to examine him and the results made her blood run cold.

His meridians were unstable, teetering between collapse and breakthrough as she had expected but inside of his body was ever more in tormoil. His qi was surging, but it had no proper direction, it was like a storm trapped within a brittle vessel, thrashing violently. And his life force like a river flowing away without a source to replenish it, like sand slipping through an open palm.

"...It’s been so long since I’ve seen you," the old man murmured, oblivious to her growing worry. "You were always so gentle... a bright little star in the darkness." His grip on her wrist tightened slightly, as if grounding himself. "I... I thought we had lost you forever."

Feng Jiao Xue felt something stir inside her, a strange, unfamiliar tightness in her throat.

She had never met her mother.

She had never known what kind of person she was, what kind of warmth she might have carried.

But her grandfather...

He had known.

And right now, he was speaking to her as if she was that missing warmth.

A part of her wndered, was he ever nice to her because of her parents? Is that why he was good to her in her memories? Was he just being good to them?

"...I’m here," she repeated softly despite the lingering doubt in her mind.

The old monarch chuckled weakly, his eyes closing for a brief moment. "...Jiao Xue... she looks like you, you know."

Feng Jiao Xue stiffened and for a moment, she wonders if he saw through her heart.

The words caught her off guard, unexpected.

"...Jiao Xue?" she echoed, carefully keeping her tone even.

The old man hummed, his voice distant, laced with old memories. "Ah... our Jiao Xue. She inherited your eyes. Your stubbornness, too..." A faint, wistful smile touched his lips. "She tries to hide it but I can tell."

Feng Jiao Xue’s fingers twitched.

He was talking about her.

About her, but not to her.

The realization was both strange and... oddly painful.

"...Is that so?" she murmured.

Her grandfather let out a breath that sounded almost like a chuckle. "Mn. She’s a sweet child, but... I can see it in her gaze. She cares too much." His voice wavered, but there was a trace of warmth in it, genuine and unguarded. "She has your heart, Sying’er... and that worries me."

feng Jiao Xue kept examining him as he talks fondly of a past that she clearly see in her mind. Like watching a show, so close yet... distant...

"She must be cold cough, cough we can go see her together before I pass on." He breathed heavily. "Yes, yes, we need to go see her. I promised her candy when I come down. She must be waiting for her candy"

Feng Jiao Xue kept silent as he talk about the distant past as if it was just yesterdays away for him. That promise... was years ago.

The hand that was holding the old man thightened for a brief moment. ’Her previous incarnate stopped waiting years ago.’

His hand tightened slightly as well as his eyes blanked before lighting with awareness again, unexpectedly, his gaze darkened.

"...And Feng Haoyuan" he muttered. "That foolish, foolish boy..."

Feng Jiao Xue’s breath caught.Feng Haoyuan. Her father.

Her grandfather’s expression twisted slightly, his muddled mind still lost in memories. "Too much like his father, that one. Too much like me..." he grumbled. "Too reckless... too willing to throw himself into danger." He exhaled a weary breath. "I warned him not to go down this path... but he never listened."

His fingers twitched against her wrist, his tone growing almost pleading.

"...Sying’er, talk to him," he murmured. "He listens to you. You’re the only one who can make him listen."

Feng Jiao Xue swallowed, unable to speak.

For the first time in her life, she saw something human in her grandfather’s usually untouchable presence.

This isn’t just a figure in her mind anymore.

Not as a mighty cultivator.

Not as the Feng Monarch.

But as a father who had once been helpless before the choices of his son. And a grandfather that once cared for her.

"...Sying’er," he whispered again, his voice barely audible now. "Don’t... go too far..."

Feng Jiao Xue’s gaze softened.

"...I won’t," she said, and though he was already slipping into unconsciousness, she meant it.

Her attention snapped back to his pulse.

He was slipping again.

Her eyes darkened, sharp with focus. No. Not yet.

Taking a slow breath, she carefully infused a steady stream of her own qi, stabilizing the wild currents wreaking havoc within him. Huang Jin De’s presence stirred faintly in her ring, silently reinforcing her efforts.

The old man’s body shuddered, but his breathing began to even out.

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