Ling Li's lips curled into a faint smile at his self-awareness, but her heart felt heavy. "It's good that you understand." She reached into her ring once more and withdrew a pouch of herbs, the fabric embroidered with intricate protective runes that shimmered softly in the sunlight. "Soak in these for three hours. They'll prime your body for the bone's energy."

Shi Min took the pouch, inspecting its contents, his eyes trained and practiced, but the weight of the mission pressed heavily on his chest.

"After that," Ling Li added, the gravity of her words anchoring them in silence, "call me. I'll perform acupuncture to open your meridians and clear your dantian. You'll need every channel flowing freely for this."

A heavy silence enveloped them, and Shi Min's heart thudded in his chest as the magnitude of what lay ahead settled like a dark cloud. "Understood."

He reached out for the Azure Dragon Bone, his fingers grazing its surface. A faint surge of qi coursed through him, electrifying and invigorating, drawing a sharp breath from his lips that echoed his inner turmoil.

"Shi Min…" Ling Li's voice softened, trembling like a fragile leaf in the wind.

He looked up, meeting her gaze filled with a tempest of emotions, unspoken yet profoundly understood — love, fear, pride.

The words she wanted to say hung between them, heavy with the weight of her unexpressed fears — the burdens of death, war, betrayal she had carried throughout her life. Nothing, though, weighed more heavily than the thought of her son risking everything in pursuit of immortality.

Shi Min saw the worry etched in her features, and without hesitation, he rose and circled the table, enveloping his mother in a firm, protective embrace. The warmth of their connection wrapped around them, grounding them both in that moment, a fleeting balm against the storm brewing in their hearts.

"Mom," he murmured, the softness of his voice surfacing as a stark contrast to the turbulence within her. "Don't worry too much. I'll come back safely, I promise."

Ling Li closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of his embrace infuse her with a mixture of solace and dread, her hands resting gently on his back.

"How could I not come back?" Shi Min added, pulling back slightly to flash a mischievous grin, an effort to lighten the air thick with unshed tears. "I still need to torture my three little brothers when they come out," he said, pointing to his mother's bulging stomach.

Ling Li chuckled lightly, the sound bittersweet like the fading light of a sunset. She refrained from correcting him — she already knew the truth. Three little sisters were on their way, not brothers.

"Alright," she responded, her voice thickening with unshed emotion. "As long as you return safe and sound."

Her fingers lingered at his elbow, a tender gesture infused with the depths of their shared love and unspoken fears. "Go and prepare. Call me when you're done."

Shi Min smirked, stepping toward the door with a playful twinkle in his eyes as he tried to mask the weight of what lay ahead. "Aw, look at that, I'm being shooed by my own mother."

He exited with a light-hearted wave, leaving Ling Li alone in the study, the echoes of their conversation clinging to the air like a haunting melody.

She stared at the empty chair for a lingering moment, her heart aching with an intensity that felt almost unbearable, then turned to gaze out the window, where the wind danced among the garden's blossoms below.

In the quiet of her heart, she whispered, "Come back to me."

The Matriarch Walks: Ling Li and the Seven Shah

The door clicked shut behind Shi Min, the sound reverberating softly within the hushed confines of the study, like a bell tolling in a tranquil valley.

Ling Li walked back to her seat. She remained anchored in her chair, her graceful hands resting lightly on the polished wooden table, but her gaze had wandered far beyond the stacks of meticulously organized documents. It drifted into the recesses of her memories, where shadows of the past lingered, evoking a complex tapestry of emotions.

Her heart throbbed with a bittersweet nostalgia.

Ling Li could vividly recall Shi Min as a small boy of three, his fists clenched with youthful determination, brow furrowed in fierce concentration as he mimicked her martial stances in the sun-dappled courtyard. Even then, he had exuded an unyielding spirit. No matter how many times he stumbled, how harshly he was pushed to his limits, he never once let a tear fall. Not a single drop.

She had wielded her expectations like a blacksmith's hammer, forging him into something extraordinary. He took her rigorous training in stride, never uttering a complaint.

When the day had come to send him to Shinsei, she had braced herself for resistance, but Shi Min had surprised her. He bowed, gathered his belongings with the quiet dignity of a warrior, and departed with unshakeable resolve. He had understood, even in his youth, that strength was not merely a gift bestowed but an essential armor for life.

Now, the thought of Shi Min traversing the path toward immortality weighed heavily on her spirit.

Ling Li closed her eyes, drawing in a slow, deliberate breath, her chest tightening like a vice. She steeled herself against the tide of grief that threatened to overthrow her composure. This moment was not for tears. Not now.

This was the only path for Shi Min to safeguard himself — especially when her own time came to step back from the mortal plane and enter seclusion. She would not always be there to shield him from the perils of the world. He had to rise as a beacon of strength on his own.

With renewed purpose, she opened her eyes and glanced at the elegant watch adorning her wrist.

Three hours until the acupuncture.

Plenty of time.

Rising from her seat, she smoothed her clothes — a flowing garment that whispered secrets of tradition — and stepped into the vastness beyond the study. Her footsteps barely made a sound against the gleaming floors, yet her presence commanded the room. Servants bowed deeply as she passed, their eyes wide with a mixture of awe and reverence.

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