She vaguely had a dream, in which she returned to her childhood, to a time she had already forgotten. There was a mature and steady man there, but Emily Bennett could not recall his face. Yet when her mother saw him, she uncharacteristically showed a gentle smile. That uncle took her and her mother to the largest amusement park in the city, and they spent a happy and joyful day together. As night fell and the city lit up with star-like lights, he carried her, exhausted from play, on his back, slowly walking through those beautiful starlit streets.

Back then, Emily Bennett lay on that sturdy back, falling asleep to the swaying steps, thinking in her heart that this must be what a father feels like. She wished she could always sleep on her father's back like this. But when she woke up the next day, everything had returned to normal. The father's back was gone, she was still sleeping in a luxurious and spacious room, and her mother had become even colder and more hurried than before.

She did not know when the long night had passed, but daylight was already bright. Emily Bennett opened her eyes and found herself still on that swaying back—Master had carried her all through the night.

On this midsummer morning, the sun was already scorching. A green bamboo hat sat crookedly on her head. Emily Bennett lay on that person's back with her eyes open, watching the sunlight flicker through the gaps in the hat, and suddenly felt that since she had already been a daughter and a sister in this world, there was really nothing wrong with being a disciple as well.

She got down from Ethan Young's back and saw that the back she had slept on all night was soaked with sweat. Master, wiping the sweat from his forehead, took out a water flask and offered it to her first.

Ethan Young's somewhat otherworldly face, under the sweat and exhaustion, began to transform, becoming more real and human.

Emily Bennett softly called out, “Master.”

This call was very gentle, but finally carried a bit of genuine feeling. Unfortunately, Ethan Young could not tell the difference; he only felt that his new little disciple was both sweet and obedient, truly easy to take care of.

A stream appeared before them, its waters murmuring eastward, with a wide stone bridge spanning its surface. On the other side of the bridge was a bustling little town.

“This is Queqiu Town. Master's home is here. This clear stream originates from the Tianlang Mountains south of town—it is the source of the stream at the entrance to your village,” Ethan Young explained to Emily Bennett.

Queqiu Town was an ancient town with a long history. To its south lay the steep Tianlang Mountains, from which a broad stream flowed out, winding around the town and heading east.

Ethan Young held Emily Bennett's hand and slowly crossed the stone bridge, stepping into the lively mortal world.

“Sir, you’re back! Whose little girl is this? She’s so pretty.”

“So the gentleman has taken a disciple—congratulations, sir!”

“Sir, you’re back. I just caught some fresh fish from the stream and was about to bring them for you to try, but I was afraid of disturbing your wife’s rest. What a coincidence to meet you here.”

“Sir, when you have time, my family just welcomed a new grandson. We’d like to trouble you to give him a name.”

“My wife hasn’t been sleeping well lately, always saying she’s restless. We’d like to ask you for a talisman water.”

...

To Emily Bennett's surprise, all the passersby, regardless of their status, treated Ethan Young with great warmth and respect, and Ethan Young seemed quite used to it, responding with ease.

The stone bridge was the only entrance and exit to the town. On the bridge, peddlers and laborers bustled back and forth. At the bridgehead, many vendors sold sewing supplies, fruits, and food, and there were even street performers showing off their skills. The scene was very lively.

All of this was very novel to Emily Bennett. She had always lived in a sparsely populated village, and since arriving in this world, this was her first time experiencing such a vibrant ancient marketplace.

She was enjoying the sights when she suddenly stopped and tugged at Ethan Young's sleeve.

“What is it?” Ethan Young followed her gaze.

At the crowded bridgehead, a figure stood out, much taller than ordinary people. The figure had broad shoulders and a small head, a pitch-black face, and a pair of eyes set vertically on its face. It was bending over by a bridge pillar, craning its neck to look at the steaming rice cakes at a vendor’s stall.

The old man selling rice cakes greeted the passing crowd with a smile, completely unaware of the figure looming almost over his head.

Ethan Young laughed. As expected, his little disciple was just as the divination had shown—extraordinarily gifted, able to see the yin and yang at such a young age, a promising successor to his legacy.

“This demon is called Mo. Its head is black and its eyes are vertical. It looks strange, but its temperament is gentle. Although it likes to walk among crowds, most of the time it does not disturb others. Emily, you need not worry.”

“Master, you really can see them like I do?” Emily Bennett realized that Master, like herself, could see these things, and felt very happy.

After so many years, those demons and monsters clearly existed in the world, living right beside them, but only she could see them, and she had always kept it bottled up with no one to tell. Now, at last, there was someone she could talk to freely, without having to pretend.