Farewell to Thanh Van Town

The next two weeks passed quickly.

Thanh Van Town remained as it had always been.

In the early mornings, cooking smoke rose from the low rooftops. Townspeople carried vegetables to the market, children chased one another along the dirt road, and the crowing of roosters mingled with voices calling across old bamboo fences.

The Thanh Van River continued flowing quietly beyond the town, changing its course for neither those who arrived nor those who left.

But for Hao Nhien, everything had changed.

After the final pure trace of Sword Intent left behind by Tieu Dao merged with his Spirit Sword, the sword within him had become far more stable than before.

Whenever he condensed it now, it no longer trembled as it had in the beginning, nor did it disperse so easily when his concentration wavered slightly.

The fourth layer of Qi Condensation needed time to stabilize.

Stepping from the early stage into the middle stage was already a small threshold in itself.

So Hao Nhien did not rush.

In the mornings, he practiced his three strikes and three steps.

In the afternoons, the Tieu Dao Sword.

At night, he worked with the Spirit Sword and practiced light breathing cultivation.

A little each day.

No forcing.

No neglect.

No haste.

Tieu Lan was no less busy than he was.

Ever since a tiny crack had opened in the seal of the Cosmic Ark, allowing a faint trace of wood qi to seep onto the boat, the medicinal herbs she cultivated had grown increasingly vibrant.

The Clearheart Grass became greener and more translucent.

The fragrance of the Mystic Spirit Flowers became cleaner.

Even the Willowleaf Grass had begun growing new roots.

Tieu Lan recorded the changes every day, comparing each small difference before adjusting how much water she used, where each pot was placed, and how long the plants were exposed to sunlight.

A new batch of Clearheart Liquid had also stabilized successfully.

There was not much.

Only a little more than ten bottles.

She had also managed to prepare a small amount of Mystic Spirit Liquid, intended mainly for external injuries and recovery after physical training.

Hao Nhien kept half of the Clearheart Liquid for the journey.

As for the rest, he asked Tieu Lan to divide the medicine into two groups.

The better bottles would be given to Uncle That.

The lighter ones could be taken to Thanh Van City and sold in small quantities if the opportunity arose.

The moment Tieu Lan heard that they might sell her medicine, she became visibly nervous.

Holding one of the small bottles in both hands, she asked again and again,

“Young Master, will people really buy it?”

“They will.”

“But what if they dislike it?”

“Then we change how we sell it.”

“What if they don’t believe I made it?”

“Then we say the prescription was left by my father, and you only helped prepare it.”

Tieu Lan thought for a while.

Then she nodded.

“That would work. Uncle Quan really was skilled in medicine, so it would sound reasonable.”

Hao Nhien smiled slightly.

“You’re taking a lie very seriously.”

Tieu Lan’s face reddened.

“It isn’t really a lie. Uncle Quan did teach me. I only… added a little wood qi.”

The moment the words left her mouth, she hurriedly covered her lips and glanced around as though afraid someone might have heard.

Hao Nhien could not help laughing.

“There’s only you and me on the boat.”

“We should still be careful.”

“Mm. Being careful is good.”

For those two weeks, the boat remained moored beside the Thanh Van River.

The townspeople gradually grew accustomed to the young man and young woman living aboard the old vessel.

Some knew that Hao Nhien was Quan Bach’s son.

Some knew that Tieu Lan understood a little about medicinal herbs.

Some had heard that they would soon leave for Thanh Van City.

At most, they sighed and offered a few words.

Thanh Van Town was small.

People came and went all the time.

But Uncle That was different.

On the final day before their departure, Hao Nhien and Tieu Lan went to his home together.

His house stood near the edge of town, close to the road leading into the mountains.

Several bundles of freshly split firewood were stacked in the courtyard. An animal hide hung drying from a wooden pole, and beside it rested an old hunting knife whose handle had been worn smooth with use.

Uncle That sat beneath the eaves, wiping down his curved saber.

When he saw the two of them approaching, he did not immediately look up.

“Come to say goodbye?”

Hao Nhien cupped his hands.

“Yes. We leave tomorrow. We’ll follow the Thanh Van River downstream toward Thanh Van City.”

Only then did Uncle That raise his head.

His gaze swept over Hao Nhien, pausing at his shoulder, his wrist, and finally the Tieu Dao Sword at his waist.

“Your aura is steadier than before.”

“Because I haven’t been rushing these past few days.”

“Knowing not to rush is a good thing.”

Uncle That set aside the cloth in his hand.

“Thanh Van City isn’t like this town.”

“Here, if there are a few strong people, everyone knows their faces.”

“In the city, someone you pass on the street might be an ordinary merchant—or a cultivator at the sixth or seventh layer.”

“Sometimes, a waiter in a tavern knows more useful information than a hunter in a small town.”

Hao Nhien listened seriously.

“I understand.”

“You don’t understand all of it yet,” Uncle That said bluntly. “But you will once you get there.”

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He looked at Tieu Lan.

“Girl, once you reach the city, don’t trust people too quickly.”

“Your medicinal liquid has some value.”

“But even a small skill can become trouble if you reveal it too early.”

Tieu Lan hurriedly nodded.

“I’ll remember.”

Hao Nhien took out a small wooden box and placed it on the stone table.

“This is some Clearheart Liquid and Mystic Spirit Liquid that Tieu Lan recently prepared.”

“They aren’t anything especially precious, but they can help with injuries, soothe the meridians, and ease fatigue after physical training.”

“I hope Uncle That will accept them.”

Uncle That looked at the box.

He did not open it immediately.

“I didn’t save you that day because I wanted medicine.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you giving it to me?”

“A life-saving debt cannot be repaid with a few bottles of medicine.”

Hao Nhien spoke calmly.

“But knowing that you often enter the mountains to hunt, I wouldn’t feel right leaving without giving you something useful to carry.”

Uncle That stared at him for a moment.

Then he laughed.

“You’re starting to sound more and more like an adult.”

Hao Nhien said nothing.

Uncle That opened the box, took out a small bottle, and removed the stopper.

After smelling it, his expression changed slightly.

“This medicine…”

Tieu Lan immediately tensed.

“Is something wrong?”

“No.”

Uncle That looked at her.

“It’s better than I expected.”

Tieu Lan visibly relaxed.

Uncle That sealed the bottle again and looked at Hao Nhien.

“If you take this to the city and sell it in the right place, you can exchange it for silver.”

“But don’t sell too much at once.”

Hao Nhien nodded.

“That was my thought as well.”

“And don’t let people know the formula is in the girl’s hands.”

Tieu Lan blinked.

Uncle That continued,

“In bigger places, some people don’t steal medicine.”

“They steal the person who knows how to make it.”

Tieu Lan shivered slightly.

Hao Nhien’s eyes darkened.

“I’ll remember.”

Uncle That went inside and returned with a small leather pouch.

He tossed it toward Hao Nhien.

Hao Nhien caught it.

The sound of broken silver pieces clinking together came from inside.

“Uncle That, this…”

“The journey to Thanh Van City isn’t something you finish in a day or two.”

“You may have medicine and food aboard the boat, but once you go ashore, you’ll still need silver.”

“Take it.”

“I can’t—”

“Enough useless words.”

Uncle That frowned.

“You just told me that a life-saving debt can’t be repaid with a few bottles of medicine.”

“I accepted the medicine.”

“So consider this payment for it.”

Hao Nhien looked down at the pouch in his hand.

Then he cupped his hands and bowed.

“Thank you, Uncle That.”

Tieu Lan quickly bowed as well.

“Thank you, Uncle That.”

Uncle That waved them off.

“Stop bowing so much.”

“As long as you stay alive, you can buy me a cup of wine when we meet again.”

He paused and looked at Hao Nhien.

“What do you intend to do about the Han family?”

Hao Nhien answered,

“First, I’ll reach Thanh Van City and gather information about my parents.”

“If they really entered the city, I’ll find a way to meet them.”

“If they haven’t, then I need to learn where the Han family is and who is pursuing them.”

“Don’t charge into the Han family alone.”

“I know.”

“Knowing and doing are two different things.”

Uncle That snorted softly.

“You look calm enough now, but when something concerns family, I’m not sure you’ll remain so calm.”

Hao Nhien was silent for a breath.

Then he nodded.

“I’ll remember what you said.”

Uncle That studied him for a while longer before his expression turned serious.

“Remember one thing.”

“You can be weak.”

“You can run.”

“You can endure.”

“You can lower your head.”

“None of that is shameful.”

“What is shameful is knowing you are weak and still dragging the person beside you to their death.”

Hao Nhien looked at Tieu Lan.

She was looking at him too.

He cupped his hands once more.

“I’ll remember.”

Only then did Uncle That stand.

He walked over and gave Hao Nhien a heavy slap on the shoulder.

“Go.”

“Thanh Van Town is too small to keep you here forever.”

“But if one day you get tired and want somewhere to sit down and drink tea…”

“This place will still be here.”

The final sentence was spoken casually.

Yet something tightened in Hao Nhien’s chest.

Thanh Van Town was not truly his homeland.

But during the chaos of his first days in this world, it had given him somewhere to stop.

Hao Nhien lowered his head.

“If I get the chance, I’ll come back.”

“That sounds better.”

The three of them laughed softly.

The heaviness of the farewell eased a little.

After leaving Uncle That’s home, Hao Nhien and Tieu Lan walked slowly along the main road of Thanh Van Town.

The small market was as busy as ever.

Steam rose from a stall selling hot buns.

An old fishmonger by the river was bargaining with a woman in gray.

Several children carrying candied hawthorn sticks ran past and nearly collided with Tieu Lan’s herb basket.

She quickly stepped aside.

One of the children turned around and grinned.

“Herb Sister! Are you really leaving?”

Tieu Lan paused.

Then she bent down and smiled at him.

“Mm. Big Sister has to travel somewhere far away.”

“Then who’s going to give my mother bitter medicine?”

Tieu Lan laughed.

“You miss bitter medicine?”

“I don’t miss the medicine.”

“I miss the candy you give me after I drink it.”

Several people nearby heard him and laughed.

Tieu Lan took a few small candies wrapped in dried leaves from her basket and handed them to the child.

“Then I’ll give you some in advance.”

“From now on, be good and listen to your mother when she tells you to take medicine.”

The child happily accepted them and ran off to show the others.

Hao Nhien watched her from beside him.

“You’re quite famous in town.”

Tieu Lan blushed slightly.

“Not really. I just buy medicinal herbs often, so everyone recognizes me.”

“They even call you Herb Sister.”

“Young Master, stop teasing me.”

Hao Nhien laughed softly.

They continued walking.

When they passed the steamed-bun stall, Tieu Lan stopped and bought a large bag.

“For the journey.”

“You bought that many?”

“You get hungry very quickly after practicing your fist art.”

“Did I ever tell you that?”

“You don’t need to.”

“I know.”

Hao Nhien watched her carefully pay the silver, take the buns, and wrap them securely.

A strange feeling rose inside him.

Thanh Van City lay ahead.

The Han family lay ahead.

Quan Hao Nhien’s parents might also be ahead.

The sect recruitment.

Stronger cultivators.

Greater dangers.

All of it waited somewhere downstream.

Yet at this moment, the only thing before him was a girl earnestly buying steamed buns because she was worried he might get hungry on the road.

Life was often like that.

On one side—

matters of life and death.

On the other—

the next meal.

Neither could simply be ignored.

By the time they returned to the boat, the sun had already begun leaning toward the west.

The old vessel remained moored beside the river as usual.

Tieu Lan had arranged the medicinal plants neatly across the deck.

The Clearheart Grass stood near the cabin entrance.

The Mystic Spirit Flowers were placed where the sunlight was gentle.

The Willowleaf Grass rested close to the side of the boat, where the faint wood qi seeping through the tiny crack in the Cosmic Ark’s seal was slightly more noticeable.

Tieu Lan inspected every pot one final time.

“Young Master, this one has to stay inside the cabin when we’re traveling. If the wind becomes too strong, the leaves will break.”

“Mm.”

“I put the medicinal liquids on the left and the external-injury medicine on the right.”

“The pale green bottles are the new Clearheart Liquid. Don’t take the wrong ones.”

“Mm.”

“The steamed buns are in the small wooden box.”

“The dried soup ingredients are in the cloth bag.”

“And I filled both jars with clean water.”

“Mm.”

Tieu Lan turned around and looked at him.

“Young Master, are you actually listening?”

Hao Nhien nodded.

“I am.”

Only then did Tieu Lan look satisfied.

“Good.”

Hao Nhien looked at her.

“You’re becoming more and more like a steward.”

Tieu Lan’s cheeks reddened.

“Then Young Master should listen to his steward.”

“All right.”

The answer came naturally.

Tieu Lan, however, froze for a moment.

Seeing her expression, something stirred faintly in Hao Nhien’s heart.

He had answered without thinking.

Now, for some reason, he did not quite know what to say next.

He turned toward the river.

“Once everything is ready, we leave tomorrow.”

Tieu Lan looked at his back.

“Mm.”

Her answer was very soft.

On their final night in Thanh Van Town, Hao Nhien did not practice the sword for long.

He simply stood on the deck and watched the lights of the town go out one by one.

Early the next morning, Thanh Van Town still rested beneath a thin layer of mist.

The Thanh Van River flowed quietly past the small pier, its surface gray-green beneath the morning sky, occasionally rippling when mountain wind swept down from above.

Most of the low houses beside the river had not yet opened their doors.

Cooking smoke had only just begun rising from a few roofs, thin as silk as it blended into the mist.

Hao Nhien stood on the deck and untied the final mooring rope.

Tieu Lan stood at the bow with her small basket in her arms, staring at the riverbank without blinking.

The pots of medicinal herbs had been carefully secured behind her.

On the pier, Uncle That stood with his arms folded.

Beside him were Second Aunt, the old fishmonger, several children who had called Tieu Lan “Herb Sister,” and a few other townspeople.

There were not many.

There was no noise.

Only a handful of familiar figures standing there, waving goodbye as the young man and young woman prepared to leave.

Uncle That gave no long speech.

He only raised one hand and called through the mist in his deep voice,

“Be careful on the road.”

Hao Nhien cupped his hands from afar.

“Take care of yourself, Uncle That.”

Tieu Lan hurriedly bowed as well.

“Uncle That, Second Aunt, everyone—please take care.”

One of the children on the pier held up the little piece of candy she had given him the day before and shouted,

“Herb Sister! Remember to come back someday!”

Tieu Lan smiled.

Her eyes had already turned slightly red.

“Mm! Big Sister will come back someday!”

The river wind blew past.

The last rope left the pier.

The old boat trembled faintly.

Then it slowly began drifting downstream.

Thanh Van Town started to recede behind them.

The low rooftops.

The dirt road.

The small river pier.

The Thanh Van Mountains hidden within the clouds.

The distant waterfall had already become no more than a faint white thread among the trees.

Everything slowly grew smaller in Hao Nhien’s eyes.

He did not keep looking back for long.

Not because he felt no attachment.

But because he knew—

if he kept staring behind him, the road ahead would only become harder to walk.

Tieu Lan remained at the bow for a long time.

Only when the people on the pier had become little more than distant dots did she finally lower her hand.

“Young Master.”

“Mm?”

“We really left.”

“Mm.”

She turned toward him.

“Are you sad?”

Hao Nhien looked at the river ahead.

Sad?

Perhaps a little.

Thanh Van Town was not his homeland.

But when he had first awakened on the Remnant Cloud Continent, it had given him somewhere to stop.

There had been the old boat.

The sandy bank where he practiced his fists.

The waterfall.

Uncle That.

The hot meals Tieu Lan cooked in the small cabin.

In his previous world, Hao Nhien had traveled through many places.

Some he had lived in for years and barely remembered.

Others he had visited only briefly, yet even many years later they would still return unexpectedly to his thoughts.

Perhaps a place did not become “home” because it was large or small.

It became home because some part of one’s life had truly happened there.

Hao Nhien answered slowly,

“A little.”

Tieu Lan lowered her head.

“Me too.”

She hugged the small basket against her chest.

“I miss Uncle Quan and Auntie.”

“I don’t know how they are right now.”

Hao Nhien looked at her.

“We’ll find them.”

“Mm.”

Tieu Lan nodded.

“I believe in you, Young Master.”

Hao Nhien said nothing more.

The small boat continued downstream.

River wind passed across the medicinal plants on the deck, gently stirring their leaves.

Beneath the old wooden hull, the Cosmic Ark remained in deep slumber.

Only the tiny crack in its seal had opened—

quietly releasing a faint, gentle trace of wood qi.

Thanh Van Town gradually disappeared beyond the bend in the river.

Their first harbor—

at last—

was left behind.