The Ancient Moon Temple, the Ancient Star-Gazing Terrace.
In the very center of the altar, a girl wearing an intricate, ancient ceremonial gown held a pastry, taking small bites and swallowing them down.
“This is too much...”
Around the ankle that Sophie had held so tightly, a mark left by a mortal's grip still seemed to linger.
Who could have thought that when she merely extended her foot as a test, that disciple with absolutely no sense of boundaries would actually grab it.
“Calling it love training... what kind of training is this! This is clearly crossing the line!”
Miaoyue took a resentful bite of the molten-center pastry in her hand.
As if venting her anger, the Moon Goddess chewed it down fiercely.
“Shameless! Give her an inch and she takes a mile! So insolent!”
She grumbled under her breath as she ate, but halfway through, her movements quieted down.
A trace of pride flashed in her purple eyes.
Sophie's straightforward advance just now, that intense gaze fixed directly on her, that unhesitating skin-to-skin contact... wasn't that exactly what she had been instilling into this foolish disciple bit by bit during this love training?
As the saying goes, a great Teacher produces brilliant disciples.
From being too shy to even hold hands at the beginning, to now being able to mount a proper offensive.
As the Teacher, these results were undoubtedly all thanks to her.
A curriculum originally meant for three months, yet the disciple had learned it so thoroughly in just two days.
Sigh, the teaching results were simply too good; she had never expected herself to have such a high talent for being a Teacher.
“This way, when Kaila sees the Saintess again, she will be utterly shocked.”
Miaoyue muttered to herself, her mood improving slightly.
Finishing the last bite, Miaoyue brushed the crumbs off her hands and walked forward.
Within the temple, countless statues stood in dense clusters, filling the entire space.
Statues of Hiso.
Over the centuries, the moonlight had consumed countless people.
If the flesh and souls ground into ashes by the lonely moon were left to scatter on the ground, they would be blown everywhere by the wind.
Miaoyue could not control that ruthless Trauma Law. She could only collect these remnants of human or animal moon dust, sending their souls to the divine kingdom and returning their ashes to their loved ones.
During this process, Miaoyue would keep a fingernail-sized amount of moon dust from each of the deceased.
It weighed about a gram.
Very little.
If placed on a palm, even the gentlest breeze could scatter it.
Yet over the years, collecting, grinding, compacting, and solidifying it bit by bit had allowed her to build thousands of Teachers in this Ancient Moon Temple.
With their company, the moon would not be too lonely during these hundreds of years.
Miaoyue slowly walked past the Teachers.
She first stopped before the statue in the front row on her right.
The hem of this one's robe was slightly raised. Miaoyue extended her finger, gently brushing it over the statue's shoulder.
Her fingertip was stained with a very thin layer of moon dust. It was a part of the statue that had flaked off on its own—something she did not allow, and which had to be repaired immediately.
Bringing her fingertip to her lips, she blew gently. The moonlight condensed in her palm into an extremely fine thread, stitching the flaked-off spot back together like a needle and thread.
Every night, she had to inspect all the statues, checking whose hem was missing an inch, whose eyelash had fallen, or whose fingertip had lost its sharp edge.
Then, using the retained moon dust, she would repair them inch by inch.
The seventh statue from the left in the middle row was once missing a piece of its left pinky finger.
She had accidentally broken it off herself.
One night three hundred years ago, she had held it too tightly and heard a very faint, sharp crack, like breaking porcelain. She had frozen in place, unable to move for a long time. Only then did she, trembling, pick up that tiny fragment, kneeling on the ground to hold it back in its place.
It took her thirty years to restore that pinky finger to its original shape.
Yet no matter how she polished or aligned it, the texture of the restored finger always felt different from the original.
Every time Miaoyue walked past this row, she would pause in front of the seventh statue.
Not to apologize.
Teacher would not blame her.
She just wanted to confirm that the slightly different pinky finger was still there, to remind herself never to make such a mistake again.
Then she walked past the second row. The second row was her favorite because all the Hisos in this row were “doing things.”
One was in a pose of deep contemplation, with its head lowered; she called it the Teacher preparing lessons.
One was turned to look into the distance; she called it the Teacher listening to me.
One had its hand raised to flick its fingers; she called it the Teacher flicking away danger.
Miaoyue would talk to them.
Today, as she walked, she whispered her report:
“Today, I taught a foolish disciple. She kicks, and it hurts quite a bit.”
“I kicked her back, too. But I didn't use my full strength. After all, she is the Saintess.”
“The pastries she makes are delicious. And every time, they get a little better than the last.”
“It is very strange. How does she know my taste?”
She mumbled as she continued forward.
When she reached the deepest part, she finally stopped before that particular statue.
Miaoyue stopped in front of one of the statues.
It was a Hiso with open arms, looking as if he were waiting for his lover's return.
It was the least accurate of all her creations.
Teacher would never wait for someone like this.
Teacher would walk ahead, push her hand away, and leave all secular attachments, weak hesitations, and childish promises of being together forever in the night wind of the Star-Gazing Terrace before she had even learned how to ask him to stay.
Yet Miaoyue still loved this statue very much.
“Teacher...”
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