Ya Ya's arrival was like a pebble dropped into a tranquil lake, sending ripples of warmth throughout the Li residence. Under Mother Ye's gentle, nurturing care and Li Zhaoyan's steadfast, mountain-like protection, the once-traumatized little girl gradually shed the fear and anxiety from her face, beginning to reveal the timid yet irrepressible curiosity and brightness appropriate for her age.
Every morning, Mother Ye would personally wash and comb Qiu Yao's hair, patiently weaving it into delicate little braids and adorning it with a fresh jasmine flower. At first, Qiu Yao would flinch slightly at the sudden touch, but Mother Ye's gentle movements and faint, soothing fragrance soon helped her relax. In the afternoons, she would often sit quietly on the soft cushion by the window in the study, watching sunlight filter through the lattice to cast dappled patterns on the floor, listening to Li Zhaoyan's deep, gentle voice as he recounted tales of rare beasts from the Star Dou Great Forest or legends of ice and snow from the far northern lands. Though she mostly listened in silence, the spark of curiosity gleaming in her large eyes showed she was quietly storing these wondrous new knowledge in her heart.
Ye Lingling showed even greater enthusiasm toward her new little sister. Returning from the academy, she would always bring small trinkets—a spinning wooden top, a string of colorful glass beads, or a few pieces of malt candy wrapped in pretty paper. She would take Qiu Yao's hand to play in the courtyard, teaching her to identify various flowers and plants. Though Qiu Yao still rarely spoke voluntarily, a faint smile would occasionally grace her face.
One warm evening, during a family dinner under the cozy glow of lamplight, the heavy rosewood round table in the dining room was laden with delicacies prepared by Mother Ye herself: emerald-green stir-fried seasonal vegetables, richly braised pork belly glistening with sauce, fragrant mushroom soup, and specially made red bean buns shaped like little rabbits for the children. Ye Lingling had made a point of returning from the academy, and the family gathered around the table in harmonious atmosphere.
Li Zhaoyan set down his spoon, his gentle gaze resting on Ya Ya, who was taking small bites of the honey-glazed lotus root Mother Ye had placed in her bowl. The little girl ate with extreme care, barely making a sound, as if afraid to disturb this hard-won peace. After a moment of contemplation, Li Zhaoyan spoke softly, his voice carrying a steady calm in the warm dining room: "Child, you have been with us for some time now, but being called only by a nickname is not a lasting arrangement. Today, your father would like to give you a formal name to be recorded in the family register. Are you willing?"
Ya Ya looked up, a flicker of confusion in her clear, large eyes, followed by cautious anticipation. She nodded gently, her small hands unconsciously clutching the hem of her clothes, her breathing softening as she focused intently on Li Zhaoyan.
Li Zhaoyan's eyes reflected both affection and solemnity. Leaning forward slightly to meet Qiu Yao at eye level, he smiled and said, "It is late autumn now, with high skies and thin clouds, crisp air and clear breezes—a season of harvest and settling. 'Yao' signifies the essence of beautiful jade..."
Gentle yet firm, with luster held within. May your heart be as clear and expansive as the autumn sky, your character as resilient and flawless as fine jade, and may your future life usher in its own season of abundance. From now on, you shall be called 'Li Qiuyao'—how does that sound?
"Li... Qiuyao..." The little girl softly repeated the name, the syllables flowing between her lips as if carrying a soothing power. Though she couldn't fully grasp the profound meaning behind the words, she could feel the weighty blessing and acceptance. She looked at Li Zhaoyan, then at the encouraging Mother Ye and Marco, and finally her gaze settled on the smiling Ye Lingling. A genuine, shy smile slowly bloomed on her small face, like a flower bud beginning to unfurl, as she replied in a soft voice:
"Thank you, Father. Qiuyao... likes this name."
"Qiuyao! It's so lovely! Now I have a little sister!" Ye Lingling clapped her hands joyfully, jumped up from her seat, and went over to Qiuyao, affectionately wrapping an arm around her shoulder. Mother Ye also nodded with relief, her eyes slightly moist as she discreetly wiped them with a handkerchief, repeatedly saying, "Good, good, Qiuyao is truly a wonderful name."
The atmosphere of the family dinner grew even warmer with the settling of the name. Marco, watching the harmonious scene of his family, felt a surge of warmth in his heart and took the opportunity to share stories from his recent journey. He avoided the bloody and perilous details, instead painting a vivid picture of his experiences: the bustling shouts and unique handicrafts in the markets of border towns, the magnificent sight of the setting sun dyeing the vast plains in gold and crimson, and the solemnity and prosperity of Spirit City. He mentioned meeting Lu Zhou in a dangerous situation, describing the nearly stubborn focus in the quiet youth's eyes when it came to the way of the blade, and the spirited vow they made under the moonlight to meet again a year later.
"Single-minded in ambition, pure in nature, and unmoved by external distractions—if this young man can hold fast to his true heart, his future achievements will be limitless," Li Zhaoyan remarked thoughtfully after listening, his eyes showing appreciation for the younger generation.
When Marco spoke of receiving guidance from the two elders, Qian Jun and Xiangmo, at the Elder Hall, and even being granted the token engraved with angel wings by Grand Enshrinement Qian Daoliu along with a promise, a flicker of profound complexity passed through Li Zhaoyan's deep eyes. It held reminiscence of bygone years, a sigh for the colossal entity that was the Spirit Hall, and finally resolved into a soft exhale: "The Spirit Hall's heritage spans millennia, its foundations run deep, far beyond ordinary forces. For you to earn their favor is a rare opportunity. That promise carries immense weight, my son; you must always remember it, reflect carefully, and use it wisely."
Meanwhile, Ye Lingling rested her chin in her hands, gazing at her brother with admiration, chattering away with questions: "Brother, is the Papal Hall in Spirit City really that tall? Is Grand Enshrinement Qian Daoliu as imposing as the legends say? Is Brother Lu Zhou's blade really that fast?" She was filled with curiosity and longing for everything her brother had experienced.
As the night deepened amid the warm conversation, the family dinner came to a harmonious close. Qiuyao seemed to have fully relaxed, obediently helping Mother Ye clear the dishes (despite Mother Ye repeatedly urging her to rest). Listening to the family's talk, her serene little face glowed with a faint blush, and she occasionally gave a soft, suppressed smile at Ye Lingling's playful remarks.
In the days that followed, life returned to calm, yet gained new vitality through Qiu Yao's presence. Marco began secluded cultivation, earnestly organizing the insights gained from his more than half a year of training. Sitting cross-legged in the quiet room, he immersed his consciousness deep within his body.
He carefully revisited and verified in his mind the wondrous comprehension brought by "Life Return" - the exquisite control over every strand of muscle and every wisp of blood and energy - along with the mysterious sensation of both conflict and resonance when initially attempting to fuse blazing Soul Power with nimble Mental Power through "Demon Storm Leg". He also contemplated the methods taught by the two elders on how to condense Soul Power like steel while circulating it like flowing water, gradually attempting to integrate all these insights. After several days of secluded cultivation, his aura grew increasingly profound and restrained, with Soul Power fluctuations around him becoming perfectly harmonious and natural. His mastery over his own power had ascended to a more refined level.
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