Mature. Maybe forty-five or fifty. Signs of age around her eyes and mouth, but still beautiful in that way some women achieved when youth gave way to something deeper.
Concern. Kindness. Maternal warmth radiating from her expression as she looked down at him.
And suddenly—
FLASH.
Memories that weren't his flooded Cang's mind. The original Cang Wuhen's inherited knowledge, pulled from Lin Feng's own memories through their final confrontation—
A woman looking down with that exact same expression. But younger. Holding a baby in her arms. Smiling with overwhelming love.
"My beautiful boy," she whispered. "Lin Feng. My precious son~"
Cang's eyes widened.
'This is—she's—'
Lin Feng's mother.
The woman Lin Feng had loved more than anyone. Had tried to protect throughout his cultivation journey. Had built his entire legend trying to make proud.
And she was here. In a border town. Looking like a mortal widow who'd lost everything.
