I am Rain Ink.

I followed the woman in the deep purple veil and the man with sage-colored hair as we traveled in an ethereal canoe that glided through the air. I learned their names - the woman was Obsidian Snow, and the man was Clement Bamboo, though in their circle he was known as the Bamboo Sovereign, a person of great importance. She simply called him Clement.

The man had a habit of calling her "little stone," with a tenderness that suggested they were lovers or perhaps even married, though she kept her own name. Maybe they hadn't formalized their union yet.

When the familiar sea breeze brushed against my face, I couldn't hold back my tears. They rolled down my cheeks as memories washed over me like the waves below. I found my old house, now renovated and barely recognizable. My hand trembled slightly as I knocked on the door. The woman who answered was elderly, her face lined with age, but she wasn't my mother, nor my grandmother, and certainly not my sister-in-law.

"I'm from the Ink family," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. The woman stared at me with vacant eyes, as if the gears in her mind turned slowly. After what felt like an eternity, recognition finally dawned on her weathered face.

"Oh! The Ink family!" she exclaimed, her voice carrying the slow cadence of someone whose thoughts came with difficulty. "They moved away long ago! Are you one of their married daughters?"

Married? I scoffed inwardly. Being sold to an old man at twelve could hardly be called marriage. I simply nodded, letting her assumption stand unchallenged.

"Could you tell me where they went?" I pressed forward with the question that mattered.

"Oh? They didn't tell you? Poor child." The old woman's face creased with concern. "I'm not entirely sure, but they probably moved to the nearby county town!"

My heart sank, though a sliver of hope remained. The old woman invited us - Obsidian, Clement, and me - to stay for a meal. As I tasted the familiar seafood, tears welled up in my eyes; it was exactly like my mother's cooking. This brief stay gave me a fleeting sense of home.

In the evening, I took Obsidian and Clement to see the temple from my childhood. Clement burst into laughter almost immediately: "Look how they carved you."

What? I turned to Obsidian in surprise.

Obsidian furrowed her brow thoughtfully. "I've never worn my hair like that..."

"But it looks beautiful," Clement teased. "Little stone should try it sometime."

Obsidian remained noncommittal, showing little interest. But I was stunned by the revelation - Obsidian was the Divine Lady?

"You're the Divine Lady?" I asked incredulously.

Looking between the statue's face and Obsidian's unveiled features, the resemblance provided its own answer.

"Perhaps," Obsidian replied, scratching her head with embarrassment. "I didn't expect them to build statues."

"Then why..." I carefully chose my words, "I'm not sure if this is impolite to ask... but why did you help the Stormwind family? Their rule was... also quite brutal..."

My eyes clouded with shadows as I remembered my father's execution, even though I knew I couldn't blame Obsidian for that.

Obsidian's face grew somber. Clement noticed immediately, moving closer to rub her back gently. "What's wrong? Did you remember something?"

Her expression lightened then, though it was clearly forced - a deliberate mask of casualness. "At the time, I was solely focused on opposing the Immortal Alliance and overthrowing their puppet regime in the mortal realm. But politics... politics turned out to be far more cruel than I had imagined."

The Immortal Alliance? Their puppet regime in the mortal realm? Was she referring to The Eternal Harmony Empire? I didn't pursue the question further. Some things were better left in the past.

We rested at the old woman's house for a day before heading to the nearest town. I remembered my mother sometimes came here to sell clothes.

We questioned every passerby - some shooed us away impatiently, others were willing to spare a moment to answer, but the response was always the same: no one knew of a family named Ink living there.

They hadn't come here. The trail had gone cold, and my heart sank deep into my chest.

"It's alright," Clement tried to comfort me. "We could search the surrounding cities."

But a greater sorrow enveloped my heart. Why couldn't they have waited for me? Or did they move because they were searching for me? No, that couldn't be - grandmother was the one who sold me, why would she look for me?

We traveled to many cities in the northeast, but no one had heard of the Ink family. Occasionally we'd find another family with the surname Ink, but they weren't mine.

When passing by the Soaring Heaven Sword Peaks, Clement asked Obsidian playfully, "Want to visit an old friend?"

Obsidian managed a forced smile. "Better not."

I never understood who this old friend was, and the question remained forever unanswered - by the time Master Snow and Bamboo Sovereign died, it was too late to ask.

Nearly a month passed. They were ready to take me to the next city, but that morning, watching the sunrise, I thought: why not make a home for myself?

"Ms. Snow..." I began hesitantly, "I don't want to search anymore."

"Oh? Why not? We're in no hurry," Obsidian reassured me.

"In this mortal realm, women have no rights. We rarely receive education, born only to become slaves to a new family and tools for a man's pleasure..." I paused, gathering my courage. "Even if I return, I'll likely just be married off to another man for a bride price. I want to go to this world of cultivators you spoke of... or gathering place..."

I took a deep breath, then continued uncertainly, "I think I have that power you mentioned - the arts. I used it... to kill everyone in that village."

"Besides, I might be wanted by the authorities. Going back could mean getting arrested." I added this reason hastily, though even as I spoke, I realized that with everyone in the village dead, it would likely remain an unsolved case with no one to pursue me.

Stolen story; please report.

Clement's eyes lit up with unexpected enthusiasm. "Wanted criminals are perfect candidates for the Abyssal Pavilion!" His sage-colored hair swayed as he clapped his hands together in delight.

Obsidian tilted her head thoughtfully, her dark eyes calculating. "Actually, you won't be wanted," she said, her voice measured and precise. "The entire village perished - who could possibly testify against you?"

My heart sank at her analysis, a cold feeling spreading through my chest. Was she planning to send me back after all?

"However," A small smile tugged at the corners of Obsidian's lips, "you're welcome to join the Abyssal Pavilion, because..."

"The Abyssal Pavilion provides refuge to all fallen souls in the world!" Clement cut in eagerly before Obsidian could finish, his voice ringing with pride and warmth.

And so, I abandoned the search for my family, following Clement and Obsidian to the Abyssal Pavilion - my new home.

Obsidian became my master - my Master Snow. She tested my spirit roots and found I had Gifted levels in both Stasis and Shadow Elements, indicating exceptional talent. She taught me Shadow-based techniques, as she hadn't yet mastered Stasis-based arts herself.

Sometimes she would tie my hair into a ponytail, saying it was better for combat, and I could let it down during peaceful times. Her fingers would move through my hair with surprising gentleness for someone so powerful.

Training at the Abyssal Pavilion was preparation for joining their primary business - bounty hunting. We were one family, and everyone needed to contribute. The Bamboo Sovereign possessed a unique ability to accelerate spiritual herb growth, so he spent most of his time tending to the herb fields. The rest of us took assassination contracts, with 10% of each bounty going to support the Pavilion.

Most targets were Master-level cultivators - contracts rarely called for eliminating Adept or Initiative practitioners. There was an assassin named Serenity who had a peculiar habit of dragging dying cultivators to someone called Wind Patio, harvesting their spirit roots for transplantation attempts. Despite the roots consistently failing shortly after extraction, he remained convinced successful transplantation was possible.

Wind Patio was Clement's disciple, though their relationship seemed more like a business partnership - one growing herbs, the other refining them. Despite being Clement's student, he possessed only modest talent: a single Gifted-level Light spirit root. His true expertise lay in alchemy.

One day, Master Snow came to me with news that I no longer needed to take assassination contracts. She had never been entirely comfortable with the bounty hunting business - it had been The Bamboo Sovereign's idea, though in some ways it suited the Abyssal Pavilion's members perfectly. By then, I had reached Adept Level and could pilot an ethereal canoe. Master Snow wanted my help installing crystal spheres across different locations - they called them Memory Echoes.

For me, whether I took assassination contracts didn't matter much - I had already killed an entire village, so what difference would a few more make? Still, whenever I saw Serenity dragging his victims into the Abyssal Pavilion, my heart would flutter uneasily, like a trapped bird against its cage.

And so it went - I never killed again after joining the Abyssal Pavilion. Master Snow paid me for installing Memory Echoes, and I still contributed to our family. Sometimes I felt guilty that my work seemed too easy compared to my fellow members who risked their lives on assassination missions.

A cultivator's "money" differed from human currency - we used something called spirit stones. Despite their name, cultivators usually kept them in ring-shaped, hollow containers filled with what looked like viscous blue liquid. These were refined from the raw spirit stones, like those that had kept me company during my time with the Smith family.

Converting to human currency was simple enough - we could purchase gems from the Inferno Wolves and pawn them in the mortal realm.

Master Snow suggested I could search for my family while installing the Memory Echoes. More than twenty years had passed since I joined the Abyssal Pavilion. In human terms, I would be an old woman in her fifty now, though my cultivator's lifespan extended to two hundred years.

Yet cultivation had preserved my youthful appearance. My little brother would be an old man by now, my mother might not even be alive, and grandmother had likely passed away.

After installing the Memory Echo at a secluded marking point, I ventured into the nearest human city. This was Stargull, one of The Stormwind Empire's most prosperous cities, which would later become the capital of The Frostshore Empire.

I entered a jewelry shop, intending to buy a hairpin for myself. As I reached for my payment, the clerk's words stopped me short.

"Are you Miss Ink? Please, just take it - there's no need to pay."

I froze, my heart skipping a beat. How could he possibly know me? I'd never set foot in Stargull before. "You must be mistaking me for someone else," I managed to say, my voice barely steady.

The clerk studied my face intently, his brow furrowing in concentration. After a moment, uncertainty crept into his expression. "Perhaps I am... but your resemblance to our Miss Ink is truly remarkable."

"There's an Ink family here?" The words tumbled out before I could stop them, hope and disbelief warring in my voice.

A warm smile spread across the clerk's face. "Why yes, this very shop belongs to the Ink family."

My fingers trembled as I gripped the edge of the counter, trying to keep my composure. "And... the owner's name?" I asked, hardly daring to breathe.

"River Ink."

I stood there, frozen in place, as laughter and tears fought for dominance. The clerk looked at me with growing concern. "Ma'am, are you alright?"

"Where does he live?" The words came out more desperately than I intended.

"I... uh..." The clerk's expression grew guarded.

"I'm his... niece," I hurried to explain, crafting a plausible story. "My surname is also Ink. I'd like to pay him a visit."

"Oh!" Understanding dawned on the clerk's face. "That explains why you look so much like Mr. Ink's daughter! He lives at Number 4, Azure Seawind Street."

When I arrived at my brother's home, they all believed I was their niece returning. The thought that I had accidentally assumed my niece's identity was rather amusing in retrospect. I encountered no resistance as I made my way inside.

Only my sister-in-law realized I wasn't her daughter. "Lake? Weren’t you supposed to go out and play today? Why did you come back so early?" Her eyes narrowed slightly. "No... you're not Lake."

She studied my features intently, her expression a mixture of bewilderment and wariness. Her hands, which had been reaching to embrace who she thought was her daughter, dropped slowly to her sides. I smiled gently and explained, "I'm River Ink's sister."

Mrs. Ink's expression grew even more peculiar, her brows drawing together in confusion. "But I've never known River to have any sisters... he only had one..."

As the thought struck her, her eyebrows knitted tightly together, disbelief spreading across her face like ripples on still water. "The sister... who was sold away?"

"Yes, that sister." I replied softly. I hadn't expected River to have told his wife about me at all.

"But how are you so... young?" She raised her hand instinctively to touch my face, just as she would have done with her daughter, but let it fall back to her side.

"I became a cultivator," I explained. "In human terms, I'm four years older than River is now."

Her lips parted slightly, as if wanting to say something. After a moment's consideration, she simply said, "You must have been through so much."

I nodded, choosing not to speak of the hardships that followed after I was sold.

Then she added, "River isn't here, but... Old Madam Ink is... although..."

"What is it?"

"She's starting to forget things," my sister-in-law said softly. "But I think... she'll recognize you. A mother always knows her own daughter."

I smiled warmly at her, understanding now why she alone had seen through my resemblance to my niece. "Yes," I agreed softly.

With a heart full of trepidation, I entered the room where my mother sat. Her face was a map of wrinkles, her head nodding gently as she dozed in her rocking chair. She seemed unaware of my presence.

"Mother," my sister-in-law called quietly, "my..."

"Rain Ink," I whispered my name, helping her.

"My eldest sister-in-law, Rain Ink, has come home."

Even as I whispered my name, mother's eyes had already fluttered open. Her clouded gaze fixed on me as she murmured, "Have I reached the Divine Realm already? Rain, when did you arrive?"

"Just now," I answered, fighting back tears as I stepped closer.

Mother's withered lips spread into a smile, revealing yellowed teeth. "That's impossible. If you'd just arrived, how could you be so young?"

"You must have been here for a long time, haven't you? That's good, that's good," she said, patting my back gently. "The earlier you arrived, the less suffering you had to endure..."

Finally, I could no longer hold back my tears. "Mom, we're not in the Divine Realm," I choked out. "You're still alive - we're both alive!"

At this moment, my sister-in-law stepped forward. "That's right, Mother. Elder Sister is still alive. She became a cultivator - that's why she looks so young. You haven't passed away either... look, I'm still here."

Mother glanced at my sister-in-law, her brows furrowing. "You are..."

My sister-in-law smiled gently. "I'm River's wife, Spring. You've forgotten again."

Suddenly, tears welled up in Mother's clouded eyes. "It was my fault. I let your grandmother sell you. You've lived so long... you must have suffered so much..."

My own tears began flowing freely. "It's alright, Mother. I'm doing well now. Someone rescued me, and I became a cultivator... I didn't suffer much..."

I crafted this lie, burying all my past pain beneath it.

Mother's tears gave way to a smile. "That's good, that's good. But Rain, why didn't you come find us..."

Then, as if suddenly remembering, she said, "Oh, we were the ones who moved away, weren't we?" As she spoke, fresh tears began streaming down her face.

Mother told me about what had happened to our family. My brother had started as an apprentice and eventually became the owner of a jewelry shop. Grandmother had lived with them until her death. Though both Mother and River harbored resentment towards her for selling me, they hadn't abandoned her. One day, Grandmother had died suddenly in her sleep, crying out "Don't come near me, don't come near me!" It seemed she had been frightened to death by whatever she saw in that dream.

As she spoke, Mother noticed my newly purchased hairpin. She offered to style my hair like the Divine Lady statue from my childhood, noting that my hair was now long and thick enough to be pinned up.

I smiled, knowing that the actual Divine Lady never wore her hair that way. But I kept this knowledge to myself. I sat down on the stool as Mother's weathered hands worked through my hair, finally securing it with my new silver hairpin. Looking in the mirror, I had to admit I did somewhat resemble the goddess. In that moment, my childhood wish had finally come true.

My niece Lake returned home first. She possessed an endearing innocence about her, untouched by the world's harshness. Finding it fascinating to have an aunt who looked so much like her, she couldn't stop stealing glances at me.

My brother returned home that evening. At first, he mistook me for Lake, but was quickly corrected by the real Lake, who pretended to be annoyed at the confusion.

I stayed with my brother's family for several days, telling Mother about my life at the Abyssal Pavilion. I told her about my powerful master, explaining that she was actually the Divine Lady we used to pray to at the seaside temple, and how she had taught me secret arts. Mother smiled with joy, saying her prayers to the Divine Lady hadn't been in vain after all. I couldn't help but smile too.

My niece was fascinated by these secret arts. The closest cultivation sect was the Celestial Sword Sect - though "close" was relative. It was a relatively new sect, but its leader, Blaze Mighty, was quite famous. Their disciples often visited mortal cities to recruit talented individuals. Lake had her spirit roots tested, but without reaching Gifted level, she had to give up that dream.

Eventually, I bid them farewell, as I had my own "family" to return to. Mother insisted I take some jewelry as gifts for the Divine Lady, to thank her for taking care of me. Though I knew Master Snow probably had little use for such things, I accepted them anyway.

Seeing my brother and mother living in peace and prosperity brought a sense of peace to my heart. Sometimes when I thought of my past, of my daughter, the pain would still surface. But I had grown accustomed to life at the Abyssal Pavilion - it had become my home. Master Snow was not just my teacher, but family. Being with family, whatever form it took, brought its own kind of comfort.

Just when I thought life would continue in this peaceful cycle of cultivation and work, divine anomalies began to manifest throughout heaven and earth.