After everyone was reborn, I was strictly disciplined.

Liu Qingwan turned and left, her clothes fluttering as she walked briskly toward Jiang Huaijin's residence.

But when she stepped into Jiang Huaijin's residence, she found it cold and deserted.

The desk was spotless, with pens and ink neatly arranged on one side. In the center, however, lay a plain white letter, unsealed, with only a small green bamboo seal pressed on it—Jiang Huaijin's usual mark.

Liu Qingwan's heart sank. She quickly stepped forward, picked up the thin letter with her fingers, and saw that the handwriting on it was elegant and neat, and it was Jiang Huaijin's handwriting.

The letter was concise, but in essence, it said that thanks to her careful guidance and the cultivation of the sacred land over the years, his cultivation had reached a bottleneck, and only by going out to explore and gain experience could he break through the shackles. Therefore, he left without saying goodbye and hoped that she would not worry about him.

After reading it once, Liu Qingwan felt it was absurd, impossible, absolutely impossible.

Jiang Huaijin has been her most worry-free disciple ever since he became her student.

Whether in his past or present life, Jiang Huaijin was more composed than his peers and more insightful than ordinary cultivators. Even for the smallest matters, he would respectfully report to them and never overstepped his bounds.

He knew that he was Liu Qingwan's last disciple and the most valued junior of the Fire Crystal Holy Land. Every word and action of his was related to the face of the Holy Land.

His departure so quietly is not only against his nature, but may also cause unrest among the disciples of the Holy Land, and even breed rumors.

Moreover, how could he not say goodbye to her, or even tell her mother, He Anyao?

Liu Qingwan suppressed her panic and unfolded the letter again, carefully reading it word by word. However, after reading the whole thing, Jiang Huaijin's words were sincere and his tone was calm. There was no haste or hidden hints. It was as if it really was just a long-planned trial.

Still uneasy, she took the letter and left the bamboo residence, approaching any patrolling disciples she encountered to inquire.

But whether it was the cleaning servants or the fellow cultivators who were on good terms with Jiang Huaijin, they all said that Jiang Huaijin was just like usual yesterday, refining pills in the morning, cultivating in the afternoon, chatting and laughing with people, and his words and deeds were not abnormal at all.

This answer did not reassure Liu Qingwan; instead, it made her even more worried.

She was well aware of Jiang Huaijin's capabilities.

Jiang Huaijin was reborn, carrying the memories and cultivation experience of his previous life. His cultivation level far surpassed that of his peers, and was even more profound than some elders.

But he was, after all, her personally trained disciple whom she had raised herself, the child she cherished dearly.

In his past life, because of Xie Xingran, his reputation was ruined and his body was never found. That sense of guilt and regret has haunted him all these years.

It made her always want to protect him more and cherish him more, fearing that he might suffer any more misfortune.

Now that Jiang Huaijin has left so quietly, how could she not panic?

Liu Qingwan could no longer contain herself. Clutching the letter, she hurried toward the Saintess Residence.

He Anyao, the mother, has always been meticulous. Perhaps she knows something, or perhaps Jiang Huaijin hinted at something to her before he left.

Inside the Saintess's residence, a brazier burned with sandalwood incense, its smoke curling upwards.

He Anyao gently patted Xie Xingran's back in her arms. The little guy's eyes were red, his face was buried in her neck, and his shoulders were still trembling slightly.

Seeing Liu Qingwan burst in, looking anxious and her clothes somewhat disheveled, He Anyao frowned slightly after hearing her daughter's words, her tone instantly turning cold, "You're in such a hurry because of Jiang Huaijin?"

Liu Qingwan's heart skipped a beat as she realized the displeasure in her mother's tone and noticed Xie Xingran in her mother's arms.

She was stunned, not understanding why her mother was angry.

She only wanted to ask about Jiang Huaijin's whereabouts and why he suddenly left; she didn't do anything out of line.

Suppressing her anxiety, she softened her tone and explained, "Mother, you know Huaijin. He's always been mature and steady, and he always acts with discretion. Why would he leave a letter like this and disappear without a word? Could something have happened?"

"Heh." He Anyao gave a low, cold snort, her tone even more sarcastic and chilling. "Jiang Huaijin is your last disciple, the pride of the Fire Flint Pill Holy Land, with a high status and profound cultivation. How could anything happen to him?"

"Since he left a letter, it means he left voluntarily. Your overreaction makes it seem as if someone mistreated him."

"But he..." Liu Qingwan wanted to say something more, wanting to say that Jiang Huaijin would never be so rash, but before she could finish speaking, she was suddenly interrupted by a dignified voice.

"That's enough!"

Liu Xuan walked out of the inner room with a serious expression and his piercing gaze fixed on Liu Qingwan. The majesty in his eyes made Liu Qingwan subconsciously stop talking, and a sense of fear rose in her heart.

"Qingwan, I know you care about Jiang Huaijin, because he's your disciple, but before you go to such lengths to dote on him, can you think about Ranran first?"

Liu Xuan paused, his gaze still fixed on Xie Xingran, who looked aggrieved. His tone softened slightly, but still carried a hint of reproach: "Ranran is your biological son. When you and Xie Jinghan left just now, you didn't even say a word of comfort to him, causing him to cry for a long time, filled with resentment."

"Now that you've rushed back, all you talk about is Jiang Huaijin, every word you utter is about his safety. Have you even considered, for a single moment, Ranran's feelings? Have you ever thought that he is also a child who needs his mother's love?"

"Ranran..."

Liu Qingwan murmured her son's name, as if struck by lightning, and froze on the spot.

Just now, she was so worried and flustered about Jiang Huaijin's departure that she completely forgot that there was such a small figure waiting for her comfort and attention.

She suddenly looked up, her gaze falling on Xie Xingran's small frame.

He was still buried in He Anyao's neck, with only a small section of his reddened ear exposed, and his shoulders were still trembling slightly, clearly still sad.

A wave of intense guilt instantly swept over her heart, so dense and painful that she could hardly breathe.

She slowly reached out her hand, her fingertips trembling slightly, wanting to gently touch Xie Xingran's head, wanting to say sorry to him, wanting to give this wronged child a good hug.

Just as her fingertips were about to touch his hair, Xie Xingran suddenly broke free from He Anyao's embrace, twisted his small body, and jumped down. His movements were swift, leaving Liu Qingwan's hand frozen in mid-air, grasping at nothing.

"Oh, Ranran!" He Anyao exclaimed, quickly leaning over with concern. "Why did you suddenly jump down? Are you hurt anywhere? Let Grandma take a look."

Xie Xingran shook his head, patted his robes with his small hands, and the grievance on his face seemed to disappear instantly, leaving only indifference, as if the child with red eyes from crying just now was not him.

He looked up, gave He Anyao and Liu Xuan a slight smile, waved his little hand, and said in a soft voice, "Grandpa, Grandma, I'm going to play for a while now, it's so boring here."

After saying that, he turned around, and his small figure ran towards the door with light steps.

That small figure ran further and further away, eventually disappearing into the depths of the bamboo shadows of the Saintess Residence.

"Ranran!" Liu Qingwan looked in the direction her son had left, her throat tightened, her voice choked with sobs, her heart filled with guilt and pain.

She noticed that during the time Xie Xingran jumped down, spoke, and left, he didn't look at Liu Qingwan once, as if she, his mother standing there full of guilt, didn't exist in the room at all, and wasn't worth his attention.

"Oh, this child."

He Anyao sighed softly, her voice filled with helplessness and heartache. She walked to Liu Qingwan's side, and seeing her distraught and red-eyed appearance, her anger gradually dissipated, leaving only a deep sense of helplessness.

"Qingwan, Mother is not upset that you care about Huaijin. He is also a child with a hard life, and Mother loves him too."

"But Ranran is different. He is your own flesh and blood. He is still so young and doesn't understand any big principles. He only knows that his mother never cares about him."

He Anyao reached out and gently patted Liu Qingwan's shoulder, saying earnestly, "It's understandable that you value Jiang Huaijin."

"But you can't neglect Ranran just because of Jiang Huaijin. He's a child who needs his mother's company..."

Liu Qingwan stood there, her eyes filled with disappointment and confusion. She wanted to say that she didn't mean it, that she was just too worried about Jiang Huaijin, but when the words came out, all that remained was endless self-blame and regret.

At this moment, Xie Xingran was running quickly along the stone path of the Fire Crystal Holy Land, taking small steps. The words of guilt, rebuke, and persuasion from the Holy Maiden were left far behind him.

His delicate face was expressionless, displaying a maturity beyond his years.

It wasn't that he couldn't feel Liu Qingwan's maternal love; it's just that that love was too shallow, too cheap, and too easily overlooked.

In Liu Qingwan's world, there is Xie Jinghan, Jiang Huaijin, the rise and fall of the Huosui Dan Holy Land, her guilt and obsession, and so many other people and things that are more important than her biological son.

He was never her first choice; he was always her last.

He neither craves nor wants this kind of love.