Chapter [B5] 12 — Matriarch Shie

Chapter [B5] 12 — Matriarch Shie

“Should Labby wait outside, Master?” Labby asked with a smile.

Sheldon and Ash looked at me seriously too.

“Liuxiang is inside, so once she’s done talking with—” As I was saying that, the door opened.

Liuxiang popping out and looking at me with curiosity. “Lu Jie, I sensed your presence, but what brings you here to—” She looked back into the room at the Shie Matriarch, who had a hollow gaze as she stared at the ceiling. Even though Liuxiang didn’t finish her words, I understood what she was asking.

“I need to have a private conversation with the Shie Matriarch.”

Liuxiang blinked in surprise. “With the Matriarch?” Liuxiang suddenly looked quite nervous. She closed the door behind her and leaned toward me, whispering, “She is in a quite sensitive mental state these days. That’s why I’ve been accompanying her and trying to spend as much time as I can. Can you try to be gentle, if possible?”

I nodded. “Of course I’ll be gentle. The Shie Matriarch may not be someone I knew too well, but she’s still someone who suffered due to my inability… due to my decisions.” It was the part I didn’t tell Liuxiang. And I wondered what she’d say if she knew about that theory of mine, about what I’d probably done to the divinities and her own matriarch.

Would she care? Liuxiang didn’t ever really love the Shie Matriarch, did she? But still, her impression of me would definitely change, wouldn’t it?

“Do you want us here?” Ash asked, low. He glanced at the corridor intersections, then at the window lattice across the hall. “Two approaches, one window, no blind corners. I’ll stand at the end.”

“Stay close,” I told them. To Liuxiang, I added, “I won’t take long.”

Liuxiang nodded once, worry in her eyes. “If she gets agitated, call me.” She touched my wrist for a brief second, then stepped back to stand with Labby. Labby puffed her cheeks and gave me a thumbs-up with too much confidence for the situation.

I opened the door.

Liuxiang nodded hesitantly, and I opened the door, walking in and closing it behind me. The Shie Matriarch turned toward me, looking at me with the same hollow gaze, and I used my chi to see in the room.

That was another thing I needed to look into. Unlike those of my friends, or even the basic mortals who’d become cultivators and were in the first stage, my chi reserves remained solid, stable. They were even increasing to a certain extent.

Was it because I was also consuming chi from the atmosphere like the demon god? Or perhaps because the divine tree, which is connected to me and sealing him, was absorbing that chi from the demon god? Would there be a way I could help my friends too—to maintain their chi and not have to suffer this way? Slowly becoming mortals, losing all the effort they’d put in, losing all the abilities they had?

I wondered if the leaves would help. The divine tree was just that, after all—a divine tree. I imagined many applications with it that I could look into. So many things I wouldn’t have considered possible just a few months ago, now that I knew so much more about the cultivation world.

The room held simple furniture. A narrow bed, a low table, a tray with a clay cup, a folded blanket. A faint medicinal smell. The window was open a sliver, and the distant root-hum of the divine tree passed through the wood. I let my breathing match that hum for a count of ten until the tension in my shoulders dropped. ȑÁΝ𝔬𝐛ĚṢ

“Master?” Labby’s voice came soft from the other side of the door. “Labby put the array. Sheldon says it will mute sound and block spirit sense.”

“Thank you,” I said without raising my voice. The array shimmered once, then stilled.

The Shie Matriarch went back to looking at the ceiling, and I took a seat next to her, in the stool Liuxiang was probably sitting on just a second ago. Up close, the lines at the corners of her eyes were deep. Her hair was white and thin. Her breathing stayed steady, but there was weight in each rise and fall.

“So, how have you been?” I asked, rather directly, mustering as much gentleness as I could into my tone.

The Shie Matriarch did not answer. Her eyes shifted to me for a heartbeat, then away. I let the silence stretch, not pushing. After a moment I set the cup on the table where she could see it and poured warm water from the small kettle. The steam rose in a thin line. I placed it near her hand.

“I can get Liuxiang if you prefer her here,” I said.

She blinked once. “No. She hovers.”

“She worries.”

“She does.”

I looked at her, wondering what I could say to get her to speak. “I think there might be a way to heal you.”

This made her turn toward me, a spark of life entering her eyes. “You do?” She shook her head at herself. “Of course you do. You’ve done all this. You’ve come back from death. You’ve sealed the demon god. Of course you can heal me. Please heal me. Can you restore my power as a divinity? No, I know, that is beyond even your ability. But even if you can just give me a core, I can cultivate. Even if I can just recover my youth.”

I patted her outstretched hands gently and nodded. “I will look into it and do my best to heal you.”

Her fingers were cold. I pushed a wisp of gentle warmth through my palm, careful not to flood her weak channels. Her shoulders relaxed by a small amount. Outside, soft claws tapped the floor twice. Labby, waiting.

The Shie Matriarch nodded before bitterness took over her expression. “I am sorry.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Sorry? Why?”

“I failed you. I failed my clan. I failed everyone. Losing to that demon divinity and then not even having the decency to die like the other two divinities. I’m just rotting away in this bed, and perhaps inconveniencing my soul family left.”

“I don’t see you as an inconvenience. More importantly, you’re alive.”

“That is the inconvenience,” she said dryly, but the edge weakened.

I felt a pang of empathy at those words, so similar to what I was thinking in that space of darkness. To think that the Shie Matriarch would also have similar thoughts. I pondered my response, then smiled at her. “Do you think Liuxiang would have preferred you were dead?

“Wouldn’t she?”

“Do you think she, of all people, would truly be visiting to spend time with you if she preferred you were dead? Especially right now, when you’re nothing but an ordinary mortal old lady without any cultivation, without any control over her?”

This made the Shie Matriarch falter. “I do know that,” she finally concluded.

“Exactly. Having family is a precious thing, Matriarch Shie.” I thought about all the family members I’d gained after coming to this world. Thinking about the mom and dad who raised me in this world, about the old man, about Granny Lang, about everyone else. Without them, without Labby and Sheldon, Ash and even Nyan, I probably wouldn’t have survived this world. Without them, I would have died a long time ago.

“Family is a precious thing,” I reiterated. “I know that you and Liuxiang haven’t always gotten along well…” maybe an understatement, based on what little I knew of their relationship. “However, she would prefer having her family alive, Matriarch Shie.”

“Why would she want this useless old woman to stay alive?” Matriarch Shie bit out. “I know that I would not want a worthless creature like me.”

“Because you are her family,” I said simply. “Because she remembers meals and scoldings and quiet hours even if they were harsh. Because you know names and stories the rest of us don’t. Because she wants a future where she can make it better with you.”

Matriarch Shie stared at the ceiling again. “Hnh.”

I didn’t quite know what to say to that. I adjusted the stool, settling in to stay. “I’m not here to judge you,” I added. “I came to see your state and to try something when we are ready. For now I want you to drink water, to eat, to walk a little with help if you can, and to let Liuxiang be noisy at you.”

A breath that might have been a laugh left her. “You sound like a junior elder.”

“I sound like someone who has been forced to listen to Yin’s health lectures.”

“Yin,” she said, a flicker of interest returning. “The mortal crafter who designs your tools.”

“Yes. She is very strict about food and rest and measurements.”

Matriarch Shie’s mouth twitched. “Strict mortals were useful in my time too.”

“So we agree,” I said.

She eyed the cup. After a long moment, she reached and lifted it with both hands. She drank a small swallow and set it down. It was a small victory.

“So, do you still want to die?”

“If you can heal me…” Matriarch Shie’s expression dimmed. “But with the world already dimming, I doubt I could make as much progress as I would have before. To start all over again…” The implication seemed to hit her. Unlike before, when she was excited at having any cultivation back, her expression began to shift. “I… without resources, without guidance, my path… it was a false path, wasn’t it? Liuxiang mentioned she is on the right path, to change my entire path and cultivate again.”

“Your path had strength. It also had flaws. You know that. The foundation was twisted by external power. If you begin again, you can lay a true foundation. Liuxiang is right. She has learned from the old man.”

“The time,” she said. “There is never enough time.”

“There rarely is.”

We were quiet for a count of twenty. Outside, the hall creaked. Ash’s step paused, then moved on. Sheldon’s array hummed once and returned to idle. It felt safe enough to speak bluntly.

At that moment, I felt a strange urge. “You should value your life more,” I said. “After all, unlike you, I won’t even get the chance to try and survive.”

Matriarch Shie stared at me blankly. “What?”

“If something goes wrong and I don’t find a way to defeat the demon god… the more I think, the more I suspect that as many ideas as I can muster to destroy him, none may be sufficient to directly kill him. I hope I’m just being skeptical, but when is paranoia not justified in such a situation? If things go wrong, I will need to use myself fully, and I cannot do that without losing everything of who I am.”

Her fingers tightened on the blanket. “You say that calmly.”

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“It is not calm,” I said. “It is practice.”

“You speak of sealing, then? Or burning your core?”

“I speak of using my divinity thread to anchor the seal and letting my life attach to it. If it comes to that. The power will remain long enough to merge the realms into a healed cycle, the echo of my will if not anything of me.”

Her gaze sharpened. “You—the tree…”

“Yes.”

Silence again, heavier. The door cloth shifted. Labby’s scent drifted in, warm and steady. She was not eavesdropping in the rude sense; she was standing watch in the way that meant she could hear if voices rose.

“It was ironic that the first person I told this to was you,” I said, and I meant it without insult. “But it is also useful. Sometimes the person who is not closest can hear a thing the clearest.”

She exhaled. “You are very young to be the one making this choice.”

“I am the one holding the thread,” I said. “It is not a position I chose. It is the one I have.”

“I understand that,” she said.

I went on. “Even if I fail to heal you, failed to restore your cultivation, I let my chi scan through your body as I held your hand, seeing the ruins that your internal meridians and body were in. Let alone a core—even your normal body, such as the bones, were slowly shrinking, perhaps because your body was adapting to having no chi even months after the incident.”

I let the analysis form in simple terms. “Your dantian is damaged but not completely destroyed. The core chamber is collapsed, but not wholly erased. Your eight extraordinary meridians are severed in three places. Your twelve primaries are brittle and have scar tissue. Your marrow is low on essence. Your organs are working, but under strain. Your spirit sea is thin.”

“Translation,” she said wryly. “Old. Broken. Salvageable with a miracle.”

“Salvageable with work, a miracle is not required. Tools and patience are enough. I have access to tools. You have patience, if you choose to use it.”

Her mouth pressed flat in thought. I could almost see her old self weighing options. Old habits of planning were not gone.

“Perhaps I am not empathizing enough with your position,” I said. “Perhaps I am assuming too much about my own tolerance, but I think I would like to survive, no matter what, if it meant I could spend more time with my loved ones. Even if the world is inconvenient and the food is worse without cultivation and the stairs are hard. Even if I was in your position.”

“Hnh,” she said. “The stairs are very hard.”

“Then you see my point. Even if I fail, Matriarch Shie, wouldn’t it be better for you to survive and spend some time with Liuxiang? Spend some time with the old man and Granny Lang? Even though your lot might not be the best, just… live? Is life truly so worthless?”

Her gaze dropped to her hands. She flexed them once. “You’ll be sacrificing yourself,” she stated.

“Yes.”

“Is there no other way?”

“There might be, I don’t know yet. Can you think of any ways to take down the demon god?”

Matriarch Shie chuckled. “No. An absolute entity such as that… the fact that you’ve even been able to seal him with a divine tree is already a borderline miracle. The fact that we’re all not dead is already something I’m immensely surprised about. If anyone would know other ways to destroy him, it’d probably only be you, Lu Jie.”

“I don’t know all the ways. I will be trying many.”

“You always do many things at once. It suits you.”

I shrugged. “So I’d say my estimations are pretty correct. I might die—no, I probably will die—and I need to come to terms with that.”

Her eyes were bright, but not with tears. With attention. “You came to tell me this because you thought it would make me choose to live.”

“Perhaps. And because I needed to say it out loud.”

She considered that and did not argue. “If you were to rebuild my core, how would you do it?”

“I would start with stabilizing your body. A month of essence-rich food, gentle chi circulation from me or Liuxiang, and low-dose leaf tincture to feed marrow. If your organs respond, we move to repairing meridians with thread-needle technique. I can lay bridges where there are breaks. After that, if your spirit sea can hold a seed, I will craft a seed core using leaf ash, jade powder, and your own blood essence. You would cultivate it by breathing and by sitting. No rushing. No shortcuts.”

“No shortcuts,” she repeated. “And if it fails?”

“Then we stop. We do not push you into Chi deviation. We keep you healthy and walking and speaking. You will still live longer than a common mortal because your body remembers cultivation.”

She nodded slowly. “You had this plan ready.”

“I think about contingencies.”

Matriarch Shie looked at me again. “I see. I’ll think over your words.” She sat up slightly, letting out a groan of pain as she moved her body.

I helped slide another pillow behind her back.

“Even though I would appreciate healing, getting a new core, and starting on the path of cultivation again, I do understand what you’re trying to say. I will try to appreciate life more, even as I have it right now.”

“I’ll have Liuxiang walk with you each day,” I promised. “Short distances. We can set marks in the courtyard tiles. You can curse me for every step if it helps.”

“I will,” she said, but there was faint humor there.

I blinked. I hadn’t expected Matriarch Shie to be so receptive.

She laughed at my expression. “If even you have such a positive outlook toward losing your cultivation, you who’ve touched the border of divinity and surpassed even us old people… Lu Jie, I can’t be defeated so easily by the younger generation, can I? I’ve experienced so much loss over the years. If I weren’t someone who could at least try to adapt and experience life more then I would have died a long, long time ago. I wouldn’t have gotten to where I did.”

“I see.”

Her gaze went to the window. “There is a small tree in the courtyard. Liuxiang planted it. She watered it every day for a week. Then she forgot one day, and it drooped. She ran outside in the night and gave it water and talked to it until it stood again. She thinks I did not see. I saw. I did not say anything because I did not know how to praise. I was not good at praise.”

“Tell her now.”

Matriarch Shie’s mouth tightened, but she nodded. “I will try.”

I shifted on the stool. The next part had to be said. “Would you forgive me if you knew that I was the one who caused your current state?”

“You?” Matriarch Shie raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

“During the moment I became Emperor, I touched the system that governs fate threads. My actions then impacted many things. I pulled on lines to stop one disaster and created others. I set the stage for your battle and its outcome. I did not lift you out. I could have tried. I did not.”

“You think you are the heavens,” she said, not accusing.

“I was a hand on one lever for a breath. I realized that in that moment of divinity, I had some control over the threads of fate. When I was consumed by all the power that becoming the Emperor had given me, I saw that it was I who set myself on this path. It was I who had influenced things to go in this direction. Perhaps if I had tried more, I could have saved your cultivation. If I’d chosen differently, I could have saved the other divinities. I could have saved so many more lives.”

Matriarch Shie hummed at this. “I do not blame the heavens for whatever fate they gave me. If you took the heavens’ role for a moment and did their job, then I wouldn’t blame you either,” she said with a smile. “I can imagine what it is like to control so many lives while also being indifferent to it—to not be able to move, even though my younger self probably would have done things my older self hasn’t. My younger self would have saved lives, helped people more, spent time being happier. Somewhere during the process of becoming a divinity, I lost a spark of my soul, Lu Jie. Maybe it was similar for you too. Losing my cultivation has given me a perspective on things. But I don’t think I would have blamed you, even if my mindset had remained as it had previously.”

That made me feel a load was almost lifted off my chest, especially when I sensed the two souls of the divinities almost throbbing in agreement to Matriarch Shie’s words. The room felt easier to breathe in. I paused, then corrected myself out loud. “I feel them agree.”

“They are with you. You carry too many things.”

“I do. I am still learning how to put some down.”

“Start with needless guilt. Keep necessary guilt, it keeps juniors honest.”

“Sounds reasonable.” I stood to ease a cramp from sitting. “I’ll ask Yin to prepare tinctures. We won’t start anything without your consent. We will keep Liuxiang informed unless you want privacy in some matters.”

“She can be informed,” Matriarch Shie said after a moment. “She will worry less if she has tasks. Give her tasks.”

“I will.”

We were quiet for another long minute. The sound of Ash’s step came and went. The faint scratch of Sheldon’s brush outside traced a fresh activation line on the privacy array. The door cloth rustled and stilled.

“You should tell this to your mentor,” she said, making me pause and turn around.

“What?”

“You should confess what you are about to do to your loved ones, Lu Jie. To the old man, to Granny Lang, to the rest. If you don’t, they will be even more hurt when the day comes where you have to sacrifice yourself.”

I opened my mouth before closing it again. I knew that was true. I knew that if I wasn’t lying, then all I could muster was a nod. “I will talk to them,” I said, steeling my resolve. I couldn’t hide things from them, as much as I wanted to.

—

Liuxiang watched as Lu Jie walked out of the room, flashing a smile at her before he left with his pets. She paced anxiously in front of the door, wondering what Lu Jie’d talked about with Matriarch Shie. She knew him. She knew it probably wouldn’t have been anything negative. But Matriarch Shie’s state had already been volatile—who knew how she reacted? Still, his expression would’ve been more conflicted if it had been something negative, right? So surely it should have been something positive.

She took a deep breath and opened the door, only to find Matriarch Shie sitting up in bed, staring out of the window at the village moving outside with people doing their tasks. When she saw Liuxiang enter, Matriarch Shie flashed such a gentle smile that Liuxiang’s breath was stolen for a second.

“Sit, Liuxiang. Sit.”

Liuxiang gulped but obeyed, sitting on the stool. She didn’t know how she felt about this lady. Even now, Zhi Zhu protested.

Don’t waste your time, Liuxiang, it said. You didn’t like the Matriarch anyway, right?

Telling me this for the tenth time won’t exactly make me take back my decision, she replied to the spider spirit. I don’t think even the Matriarch deserves to be left alone in such a state. I don’t hate her either. And as much as I try to deny it, her guidance has been valuable in my journey. So I will accompany her.

Zhi Zhu just sighed.

Matriarch Shie seemed to mull over her thoughts for a few seconds before she said, “I’m sorry, Liuxiang.”

“Sorry?” Liuxiang echoed, genuinely surprised. To think that the Matriarch would apologize to her. She was a prideful lady—someone Liuxiang could never see apologizing, even in her current state.

“Yes, I’m sorry,” the Matriarch said. “I have not treated you the best. I have not treated you as family should—as I should have treated my granddaughter. I would like to say that some of it was me losing perspective on what matters, on how others feel, the stronger I got. But that would be making excuses. I could have done better. I should have done better. But I did not. And for that, I apologize. And I thank you for being such a wonderful lady anyway.”

Liuxiang felt a prickle of shock thread down her spine and the urge to rise from the stool. She couldn’t quite process what the Matriarch was saying. Was this some scheme—some way to manipulate her? That did sound on-character for the Matriarch. But what would she gain from scheming now? Was the Matriarch even the same person she was? Now, after all these months of experiencing life so differently?

She opened her mouth and closed it repeatedly, not finding an answer.

“You don’t have to forgive me,” the Matriarch said. “I understand why you might be conflicted. I just wanted to let you know how grateful I am for you, regardless.”

Liuxiang felt something warm pull up in her heart at those words and tried to ignore the very real happiness that bloomed.

She folded her hands in her lap to keep them from fidgeting. “You should drink,” Liuxiang said, reaching for the clay cup and pouring warm water from the kettle. She had done this enough times in the past days that her movements were automatic. “Small sips are fine.”

Matriarch Shie accepted the cup with both hands. The tremor in her fingers was weaker than last week. “Thank you.”

“No need,” Liuxiang said. “You should tell me if you feel dizzy or cold.”

“I will.” The Matriarch took two small drinks and set the cup down. She adjusted the pillow behind her own back without asking for help, then paused, as if the small act surprised even her. “I am used to lying flat.”

“Sitting helps your lungs,” Liuxiang lectured. “And your mood. If you can manage two turns of the incense stick upright each day, we will add a third next week.” She could hear Yin in her own voice. She hid her embarrassment by checking the blanket corners.

“Are you scolding me?” the Matriarch asked, and there was no edge in it.

“Maybe a little,” Liuxiang said. “Someone has to be strict. You were strict with me for years. It seems fair.”

The Matriarch huffed, almost a laugh. “Fair.”

Zhi Zhu shifted in Liuxiang’s mind, legs pricking her awareness. You didn’t come here to nag. Ask why she apologized. Ask what he told her.

Liuxiang ignored the last suggestion and focused on the first. She smoothed the blanket once more and met the Matriarch’s eyes. “Why now?” she asked. “The apology.”

“I spoke with Lu Jie,” the Matriarch said. Her voice carried no hesitation. “He was direct. It helped. He reminded me that being alive is not an insult. He told me not to waste the time I still have. He also told me something that made my complaints small.” Her gaze drifted to the window. “I will not repeat it without his consent. It is not my secret.”

Liuxiang’s fingers pressed together. She had a strong guess. She did not push. She would ask him herself when he let her. “I am glad he was direct.”

“He is often too kind,” the Matriarch said. “This time he was clear. It cut the fog.”

Zhi Zhu clicked in mild approval. Clear talk is good. Less mess.

“I have been thinking,” the Matriarch continued. “If I can be healed even a little, I will take it. If not, I will stop asking for death as if it were a medicine. It is not medicine. It is an ending. I have juniors. You are one of them.”

Liuxiang’s throat tightened. “I am not a junior in your clan any longer.”

“You are still mine to worry about,” the Matriarch said, then frowned at her own words. “I mean—if you allow it.”

“I… will,” she spoke, the words tasting correct.