Chapter 3:

Hua crouched low in the tall grass, her gaze fixed on the strange humanoid creature. The Hilichurl—masked and oblivious—stood near the wounded boar, muttering in its strange, guttural language.

"Mi muhe mita, mita movo lata!"

Its voice echoed across the open field, unsettlingly cheerful given the circumstances.

The late afternoon sun bathed the landscape in a golden hue, casting long shadows across the grassy plain. The air was still, save for the distant rustle of leaves in the breeze.

Hua narrowed her eyes. The creature hadn't noticed her yet.

Perfect.

A small smile crept onto her face as she quietly stood up and began walking toward it from behind, her footsteps light against the soft earth.

Then, raising her hand, she shouted out—

"Sword of Taixuan!"

…There was no sword.

She paused for a beat, realizing how ridiculous that must've sounded.

Well, I just felt like saying it. Who wouldn't, after becoming Fu Hua.

…Then again, probably only she would.

Ahem.

Refocusing, she raised her hand and aimed straight for the back of the Hilichurl's neck. A precise strike—just enough to knock it out.Or at least, that was the plan.

She forgot one crucial detail this was the same hand that had punched through trees earlier.

Shlick.

Her hand passed cleanly through the Hilichurl's neck, like a knife through warm butter.

The masked creature went limp instantly, slumping to the ground without a sound.Hua froze.

Her eyes widened as she stared at her outstretched hand—now lightly stained with blood.

Did I just…?

She blinked, still processing what had happened.

Did I really just slice through a living being's neck… with my bare hand?

She looked down at the Hilichurl's now-lifeless body, its strange mask tilted in the grass.

Wait—how the hell did my hand even go through flesh and bone like that?

Then again… she had split a tree in half earlier with just a punch.

If I could do that… it's not impossible, right?But still.

The thing that unsettled her the most wasn't the act itself—

It was the fact that she felt… nothing.

No guilt. No fear. No disgust.

This was the first life she had ever taken with her own hands.

And the creature, with its human-like shape and stature, only made the moment more surreal.

It should've shaken her to the core.

But instead…

She just stood there, quiet and numb...--------------------Several months had passed.

The wind outside had turned colder, but the sun still shone gently over the mountaintop.

Hua sat quietly inside the wooden house she had built with her own two hands, her elbows resting on the windowsill. Her gaze drifted far beyond the horizon as she stared out at the open field that stretched toward the base of the mountains.

She was deep in thought.

Still caught in a dilemma that refused to let her go.

Why did she feel nothing…?

The image of the Hilichurl falling silently to the ground replayed in her mind like a memory stuck on loop. It should have horrified her. It should've broken something inside.

But it didn't.

She was calm then. Still calm now. And that frightened her more than anything.

"Am I… really being affected by this body?" she murmured to herself.

Was this some kind of mental erosion—part of becoming Fu Hua?

Or maybe…

"Am I losing my humanity?"

No, that didn't sound quite right. If she were truly losing it, she will be like that white hair man Kevin.

But all she felt was… apathy.

Just a dull indifference.

She didn't care. That's the most accurate way she could describe it.

And maybe that scared her more than the idea of turning into something else.

Hua slowly stood from her seat, brushing some dust from her pants, and stepped outside. The sun hung high above the trees, warm and quiet. The wind tugged gently at her long hair.

She took in a deep breath.

Fresh mountain air. Quiet. Peaceful. And utterly isolated.

In the past months, she had wandered across the hills and valleys, hoping to find someone—anyone—like herself. Someone who could speak. Someone who might understand.

But no.

All she ever came across were more Hilichurls. Primitive. Hostile. Masked.

Not a single human in sight.

She tilted her head back, staring up at the clouds as a soft breeze drifted by.

Should I start expanding my search beyond this mountain? she thought, frowning to herself.

The mountain had been her safe zone. Her territory. But maybe it was time to push further out.

She glanced around, taking in the view. Trees scattered across the hills. Flowers swaying lazily in the wind. Birds chirping faintly in the distance.

Despite the silence, it never truly felt lonely here.

Still, this place needed a name.

She had already given it one, unofficially: Taixuan Mountain.

Not very original—she knew that—but it was the first thing that came to mind.

Her naming sense was atrocious, after all. If she'd tried any harder, she might've ended up with something ridiculous like—

"Pepperoni Mountain."

She cringed just thinking about it.

"…Don't ask me why that was even an option," she muttered to herself. "Even I question my own brain sometimes."With a sigh and a shake of her head, Hua began walking.

The trail down Taixuan Mountain wound between rocky cliffs and old trees, their leaves whispering with the wind. Hua walked along it at a calm pace, her eyes half-lidded, taking in the scenery.

She had tried to live lazily. She really did.

She told herself she’d sleep in. Maybe lie around and watch clouds all day. Do nothing. But every single morning, before even the sun had dared rise, her body stirred on its own. Awake. Restless.

And so, her routine began.

Stretching. Jogging. Martial arts. Gardening.

The garden she planted behind her house had started blooming well—some vegetables, some strange local plants she still didn’t know the names of.

And after that, she'd always find herself moving through a set of practiced motions—stances, strikes, breathing exercises.

Martial arts.

She didn’t think about doing it. Her body simply knew.

There were no instructions, no scrolls or masters—just something in her bones, in her blood. And she didn’t mind. In fact… she kind of enjoyed it. The rhythm. The calm.

Peace.

It’s peaceful here.

Very different from her chaotic arrival.

She still wasn’t completely calm—no, far from it. But she had changed. Stabilized, at least a little.

Maybe this body really is shaping me, she thought, looking down at her hand. The same hand that cut through trees and hilichurls alike.

Just as the thought passed her mind—

A scream.

It pierced the quiet air like a sharp blade.

Hua froze.

Then without hesitation, she dashed toward the sound.

The path blurred around her as she moved, leaves scattering in her wake, the wind rushing past her ears.

Within minutes, she reached a small clearing at the mountain's base.

There—five people, bloodied and cornered. Some limped, some held crude weapons, but all of them looked exhausted and terrified.

And closing in on them—

Two Mitachurls, wielding heavy axe, and a group of four Hilichurls, circling like vultures.

Without a word, Hua stepped between them.

The monsters paused for a second, confused.

Then they charged.

But Hua moved faster.

In a single, fluid motion, she darted forward—

Her hand swept like a blade.

Swish.

One Hilichurl dropped without a sound.

She twisted her body, her leg sweeping low and taking two more off their feet. In the next breath, she was behind a Mitachurl, her palm slamming into the back of its neck.

The beast staggered—then collapsed, unmoving.

The last monster tried to run.

It didn’t make it far.

Within seconds, the clearing fell silent once more.

Blood darkened the earth.

Hua stood tall, not even breathing heavily.

She glanced at the wounded humans, their faces pale and wide-eyed.

So… there are others after all.

She didn’t speak just yet.

She only turned to them, her expression unreadable.

And finally, the calm was broken.

"Thank you, god, for saving us!"

One of the survivors, a man with a long beard and worn robes—likely the leader of the small group—stumbled forward and dropped to his knees, his face filled with awe and desperation.

Hua stood in silence, her expression as calm and unreadable as ever. She slowly turned her head toward them, then gave a subtle nod.

“…I’m not a god,” she said, her tone quiet, almost cold. “Just someone passing through.”

She averted her gaze, turning to observe them more closely.

Their clothes… simple robes of woven fabric, tied with sashes and colored in earthy tones. The style struck her.

Old Chinese clothing? Duan Da?

Her mind wandered for a second.

Is this region supposed to be Liyue? she thought, squinting slightly. Yeah… that’s what it was called in Genshin. But this looks older—like I’m stuck in some ancient version of it.

The group looked at one another, murmuring softly before the leader bowed deeply.

“Forgive us, Immortal. We mean no offense—but… would you allow us to stay near this sacred place? We will serve you with all we have.”

Hua blinked.

Serve me? Huh? Did I just become their Guardian by accident?

She crossed her arms, weighing the idea for a moment.

“…Only at the foot of this mountain,” she said coolly, turning her back to them.

Just as she began to walk away, she paused.

“And from now on,” she added over her shoulder, voice steady, “you may call me… Immortal Jingwei.”

Then she vanished into the trees with a swish of wind and rustling leaves.

Far enough away not to be seen, but still within earshot, Hua slowed her pace.

She heard their excited murmurs of thanks and prayers behind her.

A sly smile curled on her lips.

I totally nailed that. So cool…My image must be through the roof now…

She chuckled quietly to herself as she walked deeper into the mountain forest, the self-proclaimed Immortal Jingwei, unknowingly beginning a legend.

------------------

Just like that, a week passed.

During that time, Hua had secured the entire mountain—clearing out potential dangers from the cliffs to the valleys. Not a single monster dared to roam freely anymore.

Well… except the ones she let stay.

There were still occasional dangers lingering near the foot of the mountain, but she left those alone.

"Balance in the ecosystem is important," she muttered to herself once, standing at the edge of a cliff with her arms crossed like some kind of wise sage. "Can’t just delete the food chain."

Among the creatures she didn’t delete were the Whopperflowers.

The first time she met one, it lunged at her like any typical plant monster might. But after a thorough, hands-on negotiation using her fists, they became surprisingly docile. One even started following her around like a dog.

And the nectar? Delicious.

She started using it to make syrup in the mornings. If she could just find some soybeans, she could probably recreate tofu.

“Then making Douhua would be easy…” she sighed longingly, sitting on her porch one afternoon. “Ugh, I miss that downtown corner shop. The one with the granny selling sweet tofu pudding with ginger syrup…”

A pang of nostalgia hit her harder than any Hilichurl ever did..... if they even can hit her.

But before she could dwell too deep, she felt something.

Someone… no—multiple people had entered the mountain’s edge. About thirty of them, waiting just at the boundary of her claimed territory.

Hua narrowed her eyes.

The people I helped before? she thought, curious. But there were only five of them… why does it feel like a whole village showed up?

In an instant, she appeared before them—silent and sudden like mist after rain.

The group gasped and bowed instantly.

“Immortal Jingwei! We have come to offer tribute. We hope it pleases you.”

Hua stood there, arms behind her back, eyes drifting over the group. She recognized the five she’d saved earlier. The rest… likely their families and friends.

At their feet, wrapped in cloth and set carefully on a carved wooden tray, were items she hadn’t seen since arriving here.

A polished bronze mirror. A delicate jade teapot with matching cups. Small embroidered satchels of dried herbs and incense.

She stepped forward and picked up the mirror, turning it in her hands. The metal surface was smooth, reflecting her face with soft distortion. Ornate cloud patterns were engraved on the back.

Then she lifted the teapot, weighing it in her hand. Cool. Balanced. Beautiful craftsmanship.

Hua gave a single approving nod.

“…I accept it,” she said simply.

And with that, she vanished again—leaving only startled gasps and low murmurs.

Back in her home, Hua placed the mirror on a small shelf by the window where the morning light would hit it.

She sat down beside it, cradling the teapot in her hands, pouring herself a cup of tea she’d prepared earlier.

Looking into the mirror, she admired her reflection.

“…Not bad,” she murmured “My figure is perfect as expect of me.”

She sipped her tea, gazing at the golden horizon outside her window. The wind rustled the trees, and the mountain was quiet again.

(A/n: I did not lie, Master Jingwei.)