Ji Liyue ordered 12 nutrient solution for 120 points, And then he paid the bill of 200 star coins for water and 500 star coin for electricity.
After doing this he went to wash up and changed his clothes, looking at the dirty clothes beyond repair, he simply order 3 more clothes for himself from Online shop it was cheap, only 30 star coins for 1 simple dress, Then looking at his balance, he bought some clothes, daily necessities for his sister, brother, the baby and his children.
After doing all this, he went out to see his sister stunned while taking the delivery.
"This is a medium quality nutrient solution. Yueyue, did you steal something?"
Ji Lixue was stunned and mumbled glancing at Ji Liyue.
"Hey, you are really my sister right? Just how bad do you think i can be?"
"No, that's just a lot of money, all of a sudden so...I was just surprised."
Ji Liyue glanced at her and sighed.
"You shoulde be proud to have me as the brother, Check Tianxi platform, Your nephew and niece are already famous."
Ji Lixue was confused.
She took the delivery and went to inject one nutrient solution in her elder brother's body and then she saw that Ji Liyue had already washed the two kids.
"Ama, is this really my dress? It's so pretty."
Ji Yuxin, nickname xinxin, was cute but too malnourished and had no meat in her body. But her big eyes shone looking at the new dress that was simple blue dress for little girls.
Ji Liyue sighed, and patted her head.
"Yes, go and wear this."
Ji Yu'an, nickname Mumu looked at his sister and then the new dress in her dress and felt distressed for his Ama.
"Ama, this is expensive..."
Ji Liyue almost cleaned his ears to hear that this is something a 4 year old child just said to him.
"Are you alright, kid? This is not expensive. And why are you talking like an adult. Even adults are not so sensible these days."
Mumu was confused, huh?
Ji Lixue sighed, her younger brother's brain problem is serious.
That noon, everyone was full of food and rested properly, Ji Liyue helped Ji Yun change his clothes.
Then he went to check the comments on his short movie and was smiling.
Making people itchy for more is what he wanted to do, but this plot is not much exciting, it was just an old story he heard from a friend in world of cultivation.
He smiled as he thought of those friends.
His time in world of cultivation was most exciting, picking treasures, getting chased by demons and monsters, fighting cultivators, establishing his sect, and almost ascended but then died..
Thinking of those days, he always wanted to rewind time and experience those days.
After thinking that the competition will end in 14 days, he decided to make part 2 and release it today and let the short story get it's popularity as much as it can. Maybe he can enter top 10 and get certification for being a director?
So, After 12 hours of hardwork, He went out of his room and saw his sister looking at him with excitment.
"Why are you not asleep, sister?"
Ji Lixue didn't notice the awkwardness in the word sister, she stood up carefully as she was pregnant and asked.
"When is the next part coming?!"
Huh?
Ji Liyue felt a headache, he shouldn't have told her.
While, in another planet, Rayan was itching for more and almost rolling on the couch.
When he heard a notification for update, he opened and saw part 2.
Such a diligent director!
As soon as he clicked the movie, he was struck by the plot.
The ancestral hall was restless with shadows. Torches guttered in the cold draft, and the twins pressed close to their mother, their small faces streaked with tears. Jian's body lay shrouded beneath white silk, the air around him thick with incense.
The night had grown long, but sleep would not come.
Wei sat rigid, fists tight on his knees. "Mama," he whispered suddenly, "if we write the letters, will Papa really hear us?"
Mei stroked his hair, her own eyes hollow from weeping. "Yes, my son. Words burned in smoke can travel farther than footsteps. Even across the veil."
Lian sniffled, her cheek pressed against her mother's sleeve. "What if he… What if he's angry? Because we said we hated him?"
Mei kissed her daughter's brow, her lips trembling. "He would never be angry. He knows your hearts. He knows you waited for him."
The twins exchanged a glance—guilt carved deep into their young faces. For the first time since birth, their hatred had given way to something heavier: regret.
Outside, the distant rumble of drums rolled closer. The villagers had noticed; whispers carried in the dark. Yuelin's gates had no soldiers now—Jian's company was broken, their general fallen.
By dawn, smoke rose on the horizon. The river, once alive with lanterns, was gray with ash.
Morning in the hall was muted. The twins sat cross-legged, small brushes in hand. Their mother had given them paper, ink, and silence.
Wei's tongue peeked from the corner of his mouth as he scrawled clumsy characters: I don't hate you. I was waiting. Come back. His strokes smeared with tears before the ink had dried.
Lian's hand shook. Papa, I wanted to see you at the festival. I wanted to hold your hand. Please don't leave again.
They passed their letters to Mei. She folded them with care, as though they were treasure, then lit them over the altar flame. Smoke curled upward, carrying the children's voices into the unseen.
As the last scraps of paper blackened into ash, a horn blared outside. Not the mourning horn of last night—this was sharp, commanding.
Mei stiffened. "Stay here," she ordered, her voice taut. She rose and moved toward the door.
The twins scrambled after her.
At the village gates, soldiers in dark armor pressed forward, their banners unfamiliar, their tongues harsh and foreign. Behind them, fire licked the treeline. The war had not passed them by—it had followed Jian's body home.
The villagers scattered, some clutching children, others grabbing tools. But against soldiers, farming hoes and sticks were useless.
Wei grabbed his sister's hand. "We have to hide."
"No!" Lian resisted. "We can't leave Mama."
Their mother turned, her face pale but unbroken. "Listen to me. If they breach the gates, you must run. Do you understand? The forest will hide you."
The twins shook their heads violently.
"We won't leave you!" Wei cried.
"You must." Mei's voice cracked, but her gaze held steel. "Your father gave his life for this village. I cannot let his children fall the same way."
The twins clung to her robes, sobbing.
The clash at the gates broke swiftly. The invaders surged through, cutting down villagers who stood in their path. Screams split the morning. Smoke rolled through the streets, choking, acrid.
Mei seized her children by the hands, dragging them into the hall's rear chamber. Jian's body lay behind them, untouched, sacred even in chaos.
"Papa will protect us," Lian whispered desperately, eyes darting to the shrouded figure.
Mei knelt before them, gripping their shoulders tight. "He already has. And now, you must live, so his spirit can rest."
The door crashed inward. Soldiers stormed the hall.
Mei rose, spreading her arms. "Please! Spare the children!"
The twins shrieked, clutching at her legs.
One soldier shoved Mei aside, his blade raised. Wei, in a surge of panic, hurled himself forward, tiny fists pounding uselessly against iron greaves.
"Stop! Don't hurt Mama!"
The soldier laughed, amused by the child's defiance. His sword hovered, glinting.
And then—
The ancestral altar behind them toppled. Jian's sword, laid across it, slid free and clattered onto the floor. The sound rang like thunder in the chamber.
All froze.
Wei's eyes widened. He scrambled, seizing the weapon far too heavy for his small arms. He lifted it with both hands, trembling, and stood in front of his sister.
"I'll protect her!" he shouted, voice shrill with terror but burning with something fiercer.
The soldier sneered. He raised his blade—
—but another shout split the air.
The captain of Jian's old company, battered but alive, burst into the hall with a handful of survivors. They clashed with the intruders, steel ringing, blood spilling.
Mei pulled her children back, shielding their eyes.
When the dust settled, the enemy lay dead, but so too did the last of Jian's comrades. The captain, bleeding from his chest, staggered toward Mei.
"Lady Mei… Yuelin will not hold. Take the children. Flee… far from here."
He collapsed, lifeless at Jian's feet.
By dusk, the village was ash. Smoke curled where houses once stood, and the river carried not lanterns but embers.
Mei walked barefoot, clutching the twins' hands, leading them toward the mountain path. Behind them, the ancestral hall burned, its roof falling in, sparks scattering like stars. Jian's body was gone with it, consumed in the flames.
Wei sobbed silently, his face streaked with soot. Lian clutched the small sword-strap the captain had left, fingers white around it.
"Papa's gone again," she whispered.
Mei stopped on the path. She turned, forcing the children to face her. Her own grief was a knife twisting inside, but she steeled herself.
"No. He is not gone. He is here." She pressed a hand to their hearts. "As long as you live, he lives. Every breath you take is his. Every step forward is his."
The twins clung to her, their sobs wracking their small bodies.
Above them, the first stars pierced the smoke-dark sky. For an instant, the heavens seemed full of lanterns again, as if the wishes of Yuelin still burned somewhere far beyond reach.
That night, hidden in the forest, the twins lay curled against their mother. Sleep was thin, broken by nightmares.
Lian stirred first. She sat up, eyes glistening. "Mama… if we let go of Papa, will he disappear forever?"
Mei, too weary for lies, shook her head slowly. "No. Love does not disappear. It changes shape. It becomes memory, and memory keeps him close."
Wei, half-asleep, mumbled, "Then… we'll never say we hate him again."
Tears welled fresh in Mei's eyes. She gathered them both close. "He knows. And he forgives."
The children finally slipped into sleep, their faces damp but peaceful. Mei stayed awake, staring at the stars until dawn, whispering to the wind.
"Jian… they are your lanterns now. I will carry them. I will not let them fall."
Years later, travelers passing through the scarred valley of Yuelin would sometimes find paper lanterns in the forest—two small ones, their painted words smudged with rain.
The wishes were always the same.
Bring Papa home.
Tell him we are sorry.
But the lanterns never reached the river. They hung instead from the branches above the mountain path, swaying gently in the wind, as though waiting.
As though the twins still believed the smoke might find him.