Chapter 51: Lin Moyi's Past

Two centuries ago, Zhen Chen, the venerable head of the Zhen Clan, stepped down from his position, passing the mantle to his son, Zhen Que. After relinquishing his duties, Zhen Chen retreated into seclusion, fading from public life—until now. Back in his prime, Zhen Chen had been part of the same generation as Lin Moyi, and the two shared more than camaraderie; they had once been teammates during a pivotal era.

At the time, both men were in their early three hundreds, young yet promising figures, when the Council of Northern Moon sought to extend its influence. Their ambition was to establish a sprawling network across unclaimed lands, expanding the power of Northern Moon far beyond its borders. Lin Moyi was one of the chosen few for this expedition, alongside several others tasked with conquering new territories and forging alliances.

This monumental campaign ultimately birthed the many branches of Northern Moon's vast allied network, a structure so robust that members could later return to the heartland and claim the Council's protection without question.

Zhen Chen's deep voice pulled Lin Moyi from his thoughts. "I can see it—you've been suppressing your cultivation, delaying your breakthrough to the Nascent Soul realm. What is to come will come."

Lin Moyi's lips curved into a faint, bitter smile as he turned to face his old friend. "You're as sharp as ever, Brother Chen. You're right. For hundreds of years, I've held myself back. Out there, the resources were scarce, painfully lacking compared to what's available here. The previous Council never cared for those like me—those who weren't apart of the six major powers. Sending us away was their way of ensuring we would stagnate, die off, or simply fade into obscurity, leaving no one to challenge their status."

He paused, his gaze drifting to the window. Beyond the glass lay a landscape steeped in quiet shadows, a stark contrast to the vivid memories that suddenly flooded his mind.

"They threw us to the wolves, Brother Chen," Lin Moyi murmured. "But I didn't let them win. I found an old, dying village during the expedition, a place barely holding on. With what little I had, I protected those people. I nurtured their youths, taught them to survive. Over time, that village thrived. It became the Lin Village. But it cost me everything."

Zhen Chen remained silent, allowing the weight of Lin Moyi's words to settle.

"At the time," Lin Moyi continued, his voice quieter now, "I was just five hundred years old, only at the seventh stage of the Golden Core Realm. Every ounce of my resources went into that village. When I tried to return to Northern Moon for more, they turned me away. They called the village a liability, unworthy of support. The Council demanded I abandon those people and return—but I knew if I left, they would all perish. How could I leave them to die?"

Lin Moyi's tone grew harder, bitterness lacing his words. "That was also when the Celestial Shadow Church ran rampant, killing anyone who refused to kneel to their faith. And the Obsidian Woodlands were overrun with demonic beasts back then. Staying behind was dangerous—but abandoning them was unthinkable."

Zhen Chen stepped closer, his expression clouded with sympathy. "The old Council was corrupt, Lin Moyi. They're the ones to blame. But don't let their sins chain you forever."

Lin Moyi's jaw tightened. His eyes, shadowed with grief, finally met Zhen Chen's. "You speak as if I haven't moved on. I've lived long enough to see the truth of humanity, wickedness, yes, but also love and hope. Still, I can't forget the price I paid. Kia Mundi was there that day, Brother Chen. He could have stopped it, or at least spoken up. But he didn't. He stood by and did nothing. But I later understood him and could not blame him either"

Zhen Chen let out a long sigh. "Kia Mundi was like you, strong, talented, but without backing. If he'd spoken against the Council then, they would've killed him. You know that."

"I do." Lin Moyi's voice was heavy, tinged with a sadness that years hadn't dulled. He turned back to the window, gazing into the distance. "But knowing doesn't make it any easier."

Silence lingered between the two before Zhen Chen placed a hand on Lin Moyi's shoulder. His voice softened. "I know they took her from you—your wife. And I know it was the Council's wrath you defied. But you avenged her, didn't you? You got your revenge. Isn't it time to let go of the pain?"

Lin Moyi closed his eyes, the memory of his wife's face flickering in his mind. She had been a villager, a simple woman whose only crime was loving him. When Lin Moyi refused the Council's orders to return, they had punished him in the most ruthless way possible. They killed her.

She had been pregnant with their son at the time.

But Zhen Chen had intervened. Using the resources of the Zhen Clan, he had extracted the unborn child and placed him in a life-sustaining chamber—a marvel of alchemical and spiritual engineering of the Zhen Clan. The chamber nurtured the fetus until it was ready for birth. Once the child was fully developed, Zhen Chen brought the infant to Lin Moyi.

Lin Moyi's hardened exterior had crumbled the moment he saw the tiny boy. He had held his son, Lin Rou, and wept like a broken man.

Zhen Chen's voice broke through the silence, steady yet filled with regret. "I've done everything I could to make up for my failures, old friend. I promised I would protect him, and I did. But now, it's your turn to heal. You've carried this burden for far too long."

Lin Moyi turned back to Zhen Chen, his eyes glinting with a quiet resolve. "I don't carry it alone anymore. Lin Rou lives because of you, Brother Chen. For that, I owe you a debt I can never repay."

Zhen Chen shook his head, a faint smile crossing his lips. "You don't owe me anything. Just promise me one thing—don't let the past destroy your future. Lin Rou needs you and this boy right here needs you too. Northern Moon needs you to be strong as well."

Lin Moyi nodded, though his heart still ached. The past could not be undone, but perhaps, just perhaps, the future could bring some semblance of peace.

Zhen Chen turned to his friend again, his gaze thoughtful. "Suppressing yourself to the third level of the Golden Core realm has its benefits, but it also comes with risks. With your talent, you should have reached the Nascent Soul realm by now. But because of the weight in your heart, you've delayed attempting a breakthrough. Thinking about it now, though... that was a wise decision." He stroked his beard, lost in contemplation.

The Nascent Soul realm was no ordinary step in cultivation. It required a cultivator to transcend the mortal flesh, shattering the bonds between body and soul. Cultivation was an act of defiance against the heavens, and the transition from flesh to spirit demanded unwavering willpower, a pure heart, and steadfast faith in oneself. The Golden Core stage, however, was treacherous—where one's heart demons were at their peak. A single misstep could cost a cultivator their life.

Lin Moyi let out a deep sigh, his expression tinged with weariness. "I've put the past behind me. I can't change what's happened. As you've said, I've already avenged what needed avenging. Now, I'll go into seclusion to make my breakthrough—I'm confident I can succeed. But while I'm away, I need you to watch over Feng for me. And don't let Rou leave the army. He should stay there until I return."

Zhen Chen chuckled warmly. "Ah, old friend, it seems you've found another reason to keep going in this life. These two boys are truly fortunate to have you. Don't worry, I'll look after them. This one's talent is especially remarkable, and if you don't object, I might even take him as my disciple."

Lin Moyi's gaze softened slightly. "Once I make my breakthrough, I'll take him to the Undead Fields for training. By then, Lin Rou should be fully integrated into the army, he'll have his own team to assist him. With the army's resources at his disposal, he'll be fine. Jiang Feng will be my sole responsibility there after."

"Then it's settled." Zhen Chen smiled, his voice filled with warmth. "Welcome back, old friend. I'll await your good news."