Chapter 382 - 365: A Human Must Learn to Be Mature, Not That They Dislike Innocence

As the saying goes, one should strive to emulate the virtuous. This was exactly how she felt at this moment.

As Song Ciwan listened to Aunt Wen speak, she collected some of her human desires, but this was not her true gain.

In fact, for the Song Ciwan of this moment, these insignificant gains were hardly worth mentioning at all.

The Sutra of Sitting and Forgetting circulated silently within her body. Song Ciwan felt that this Cultivation Technique had never been as perfectly harmonious as it was at this moment.

Within her body, her meridians, and even the depths of her soul, it felt as if countless hidden wounds were being healed.

Before this, Song Ciwan had never thought she had any hidden wounds. Or rather, she had never realized that some of her old injuries still lingered within her, unhealed.

But in reality, those wounds were very much there.

There was the physical toll from her Cultivation of the Thunder Fire Body Devouring Technique, and... there were the scars left on her heart by everything she had heard, seen, and experienced along the way—

Yes, she was not as indestructible as she had once believed herself to be.

When she first began Washing Demons, she witnessed all sorts of tragedies in the Mortal World. She told herself to be prudent and protect herself, but deep down, how could she not feel sorrow?

When she acted as a Divine Envoy, she saw all kinds of suffering in the Mortal World. She stuck to her principles, dealing only with what was within her immediate reach and saving only those who wished to save themselves. Yet the world is full of hardship. Being human, how could she remain completely untouched?

And that was to say nothing of all she experienced afterward.

One must learn to mature. It’s not that people dislike innocence, but simply that this world has no place for it.

Song Ciwan asked, "Aunt Wen, from childhood to now, even past the age of fifty, you’re still subjected to so many restrictions. Doesn’t it make you sad?"

Aunt Wen blinked, as if to clear some dryness from the corners of her eyes.

She chuckled. "To be honest, it’s not that I don’t have my sad moments. Sometimes I think about just leaving that whole family behind and running away with my little daughter to a place where no one can boss us around.

From then on, I could draw however I wanted, and my girl wouldn’t have to be looked down on by her sister-in-law..."

At this, Aunt Wen seemed to realize she had said too much and trailed off.

Then she continued, "But that’s impossible. In this day and age, this place is a rare pocket of peace. We live off the river, so we won’t starve. That’s already better than a lot of poor souls out there!

Besides, I only have so much strength, and my girl is just a child. What good would come of us leaving? Out there, there are demons, devils, and all sorts of ghouls and monsters. How could I protect her? I can’t even protect myself!

Sigh... Most of my life has passed like this. It’s nothing, really. At least I can still draw in secret on this boat."

As she said this, Aunt Wen giggled like a child who had snuck a taste of honey—a child in an old woman’s body, one who seemed simple and clumsy but was, in reality, exceptionally deft.

’Perhaps, for her, life was nothing but shackles.’

’These ever-present shackles were like patches of heavy mud, pulling and dragging at her, trying to drown her in darkness forever so she could never raise her head and grow freely.’

’And yet, her eyes always seemed to see colors that didn’t exist in a black-and-white world.’

’In the deepest darkness, she had fought to push out the bud of her own self. In that barren soil, where no one could see, she had secretly blossomed.’

’Her resistance was invisible. It was quiet, without any earth-shattering confrontations or soul-stirring epics. But this invisible struggle was so ordinary, yet so powerful. So vibrant and full of life!’

There was a passage that had once deeply resonated with Song Ciwan:

If the sky is dark, then feel your way forward in the darkness;

If it is dangerous to speak out, then remain silent;

If you feel you lack the strength to shine, then huddle in a corner;

But do not grow so accustomed to the darkness that you speak in its defense;

Do not take pride in your own wretched compromise;

Do not mock those who are braver and more passionate than you;

We can be as lowly as dust, but we must not be as twisted as maggots!

Song Ciwan had seen too much darkness and depravity in this world. Humans, demons, specters, and devils alike had been twisted beyond recognition by the entanglements of life. And yet, this world was never lacking in people who truly knew how to love!

’From now on, she would likely stick to her principles as always: with prudent self-preservation as her priority, she would only perform acts of kindness that were within her power.’

’But after such a precious encounter,’ she thought, ’she had to at least ensure she would never become numb!’

’When she looked up at the sky, she must always be able to see a sliver of light in the darkness.’

The Sutra of Sitting and Forgetting flowed without a sound. Song Ciwan had practiced the Second Layer of the Heart Method to such perfection that it flowed effortlessly, unconsciously reaching a state of harmonious overflow.

The intense feeling of an imminent breakthrough to Divinity Transformation washed over her again, and again, Song Ciwan did her utmost to suppress it.

She couldn’t possibly break through until the trade for her existing Demon Spirit Malice was complete.

’If she broke through too early, wouldn’t the hundreds of thousands of years of Lifespan she could potentially gain from the trade all go to waste?’

’Besides, her Dantian still wasn’t full. So, a breakthrough was out of the question. She could only continue to suppress it and make her foundation even more solid.’

Song Ciwan asked, "Aunt Wen, your paintings are so good. Have you never thought of selling them for money?"

The question took Aunt Wen by surprise. "Sell my paintings for money?"

A look of disbelief crossed her face. Forgetting to even row the boat, she quickly freed a hand to wave it dismissively. "Oh, my, young lady, you’re giving me far too much credit. My drawings... it’s one thing for you to praise them, but who else would give them a second glance?"

To this, Song Ciwan immediately countered, "So you’re saying that I’ve been praising something no one else would look at? Aunt Wen, are you implying my judgment is far worse than everyone else’s?"

Aunt Wen immediately grew flustered. "Oh, dear, young lady, that’s not what I meant! Goodness, you—you—how could you think that? That’s not what I meant at all, not at all..."

Song Ciwan smiled. "Then you must mean that everyone else’s judgment is far worse than mine, right?"

Aunt Wen was speechless.

She was at a loss for words for a moment. She could only grip the sculling oar with her left hand while wiping her right hand on her headscarf again and again.

Then she switched, gripping the oar with her right hand and wiping her left hand on her headscarf again and again.

The Heaven and Earth Scale appeared again, collecting a wisp of her energy: [Human desires. A mortal’s joy, delight, and bashfulness. Four catties and three taels. Tradable.]

Song Ciwan smiled faintly. "It’s just a fact. Their judgment is nowhere near as good as mine. Aunt Wen, are you willing to sell these drawings? If so, how about I buy them?"

Aunt Wen gasped. "Ah, young lady, you must be teasing me. My drawings... look, the cloth is all patched together from scraps. I don’t have any proper ink or paints, either. I just sketch whatever with a few charcoal sticks. I admit, they might look a little lifelike..."

At this, she seemed to make up her mind. "Young lady, I’ll be honest with you. Not long ago, I... I secretly went into Huijiang City to try and sell my drawings. Everyone who looked at them just laughed at me... Oh, just don’t buy them. They aren’t worth anything!

If you... if you really like them, I’ll give you a few... No, one. Just one is fine!"

As soon as she finished speaking, Aunt Wen’s face turned bright red.

Song Ciwan simply said, "Aunt Wen, you underestimate yourself far too much. One day, these drawings of yours will be priceless treasures. I think the reason you won’t sell them to me isn’t because you think they’re no good, but because you can’t bear to part with them!

Name a price, Aunt Wen. Otherwise, I won’t believe that you’re truly willing to just give one away."

Aunt Wen gasped again. "This... this..." Stunned, she held up five fingers toward Song Ciwan.

After holding up five, she hastily pulled two back, finally showing three fingers to Song Ciwan.

Song Ciwan took three small silver ingots from her Storage Pouch. "Thirty taels for one? How many are you willing to sell, Aunt Wen?"