Immortal Road Worry-Free - Chapter 12:
Morning markets stirred the town awake.
Voices rose and fell like waves on the shore.
Old farmers tipped baskets of greens onto worn cloths,
calling out to passersby that three bundles cost a single coin.
Nearby, a fishmonger fanned away flies with a bamboo fan,
scolding a haggling man with laughter and mock anger.
Bai Yushuang sat quietly above them, high upon a tiled roof,
her gaze sweeping over the bustle below.
Everything was strange and fascinating the way mortals exchanged coins for food,
how they bartered fiercely over wilted leaves,
how tempers flared and cooled in the same breath.
She watched children race through the mud chasing paper windmills,
while a beggar reached out a trembling hand for alms.
Some gave. Most turned away.
And once, she saw a young boy dart through the crowd like a shadow,
nimble as a stray cat. His hand slipped beneath a merchant’s belt,
snatched a purse, and vanished into the throng.
Bai Yushuang followed him with her eyes until he disappeared into a narrow alley,
slipping through a broken gate. Inside,
several younger children huddled together on the dirt floor.
A faint crease formed between her brows.
Each day she also saw the small girl named Xiaochun.
Every dawn, before the town fully woke,
Xiaochun came down the mountain with her bamboo basket
filled with herbs and wild vegetables sometimes with a
trapped pheasant or rabbit hanging by its feet.
Her steps were firm, her eyes calm. In the clamoring market,
she moved like a single clear note amid a hundred noisy drums.
Her first stop was always the apothecary.
The old shopkeeper with a thin beard examined her herbs with furrowed brows,
muttering that the roots were incomplete and next time he might not buy them.
Yet he always paid her in the end, his rough hands sliding the
coins across the counter without fail.
Then Xiaochun went deeper into the market,
laying out her wild catch on the ground or trading them for rice,
salt, or pickled greens. She seldom spoke,
but when she did, she smiled a small,
quiet curve of the lips that softened even the hardest faces.
Bai Yushuang watched her day after day, as though reading a silent
scripture or studying a world she had never known.
When evening fell, she remained seated on her familiar rooftop.
The setting sun painted the town in warm gold, rooftops glowing beneath the crimson clouds.
In her hand, she held a translucent spirit fruit,
its inner light pulsing with gentle power. Yet she stopped mid-bite.
For a long moment she simply stared at it, her thoughts adrift.
The mortals below labored from dawn to dusk,
their reward no more than a bowl of thin porridge or a single quail egg.
They had no spirit energy, no cultivation arts
yet they fought to live, to work, to care for one another.
Life, she realized, still bloomed in its own way.
Her gaze lifted toward the horizon where a few birds crossed the sunset.
A faint smile touched her lips. She thought she understood something
though perhaps, not fully yet.
From her perch she leaned slightly forward,
eyes narrowing toward a familiar figure in the crowd.
Xiaochun was walking toward the apothecary,
her basket of herbs balanced neatly on her back.
She did not notice the ragged boy moving behind her, his steps light,
Bai Yushuang’s eyes glimmered.
She saw the flash in the boy’s gaze, the quick calculation before his hand
moved toward the cloth purse tied at Xiaochun’s waist.
A small thought stirred within her. She could have stopped him in an instant
with a flicker of spiritual force, the matter would end.
But this was the mortal world. The use of spirit power here would
ripple like thunder across a still pond.
So instead, she moved.
From the rooftop, her figure descended like a feather.
Her feet touched the ground without a sound.
The folds of her pale robe brushed against the crowd as she slipped among them,
her pace unhurried, blending perfectly into the motion of the market.
The boy’s fingers reached the purse.
Before he could snatch it, a cool hand caught his wrist.
The grip was gentle, yet unbreakable.
This is not yours, is it?
Her voice was calm as still water.
The boy froze, eyes wide with fear and defiance.
He spat out between clenched teeth, demanding she let go.
Bai Yushuang said nothing. She drew him quietly aside,
into the shadow of a narrow alley.
Steal her coin purse and then what?
Her tone was mild, but her gaze cut through him like frost.
He said nothing, only stared back, jaw trembling.
Her eyes drifted to his patched clothes, his thin arms, the grime beneath his nails.
Hungry? she asked softly. Or someone waiting for you to bring money home?
The boy’s lips pressed together. He did not answer.
Bai Yushuang loosened her grip. The moment her hand left his wrist,
he stepped back quickl but did not run.
Go to the apothecary, she said. Move his medicine crates for a day.
He’ll give you food and a few coins. It is a cleaner way to live than stealing.
Her tone was quiet, almost casual. She patted his shoulder once and turned to leave.
The boy stared after her, unsure what to feel.
Bai Yushuang walked back into the crowd as if she had never left it.
A few steps away, Xiaochun turned, frowning slightly as if sensing something amiss.
She looked around, eyes scanning the street.
Bai Yushuang approached her as though merely passing by and said in a mild voice,
The purse at your waist is too easy to see. Keep it tucked inside next time.
Xiaochun looked up and for the first time saw her clearly.
A woman unlike anyone she had ever seen, beautiful beyond words,
her eyes calm and distant like a moon reflected in water.
Xiaochun stared, momentarily stunned,
a flicker of surprise and caution in her gaze before she whispered a soft thank you.
Bai Yushuang’s lips curved into the faintest smile.
Without another word, she turned and disappeared into the sea of people.
Behind her, the boy who had tried to steal the purse stood for a long while in silence.
Then, with a small exhale, he began to walk toward the apothecary.
And in the fading light, the rooftop watcher vanished once more
leaving only the scent of wind and dusk behind her.