The Morning Star Baby Wants a Family - Chapter 58

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Chapter 58
The first mountain they sought lay in the northwest of Gaeyang—Cheongsong Mountain.
Among Gaeyang’s mountains, which were never particularly tall to begin with, Cheongsong Mountain stood out as especially modest.
With slopes so gentle that even a small child could ascend with ease, it felt less like a mountain and more like a hill.
Cheongsong Mountain had originally been a dense pine forest.
With each heavy monsoon season, the incline gradually steepened until it had grown tall enough to be called a mountain.
This was precisely why they had chosen to search here first.
If moonstone had formed beneath the earth, the soil that had originally occupied that space would have been pushed upward somewhere.
There was no guarantee it lay buried beneath Cheongsong Mountain, but the probability was relatively high.
Fortunately, Cheongsong Mountain lay quite close to Gaeyang Palace, and it was not a difficult climb even for Hae-na, who barely reached Seowan’s waist.
“Cheon-eul. Have you found anything?”
Halfway up the mountain, Seowan asked him.
Wind exists everywhere. If any trace of water’s passage remained or if cracks had formed where soil had shifted upward, Cheon-eul would be able to sense it.
But Cheon-eul offered only a bitter smile and shook his head.
Seowan’s expression grew troubled.
Had it already been buried?
Until last year, Gaeyang’s water had flowed without issue.
The newly formed moonstone must have completely sealed the passages through which groundwater once flowed—and not long ago at that.
He had thought traces would still remain, yet Cheon-eul had found nothing.
Neither had I.
I could detect only the moisture mingled in the air and the water held within the dense pine trees.
Yet when I focused my thinly spread spiritual sense, my energy surged violently.
I lifted my gaze toward the sky.
The moon had risen in the pitch-black night sky as the sun set.
The brightly shining moon was slightly fuller than a half-moon. Only a few days remained until the full moon.
It would be better to return now.
The brighter the moon shone in the dead of night, the more difficult it became to wield spiritual energy.
It was also time to put the child to sleep.
But at that moment, Hae-na stood motionless, gazing blankly into empty space.
A gust of wind swept through.
Pine branches swayed as the breeze passed.
Tree-leaf shadows scattered, and pure white moonlight descended upon the mountain path.
“That’s strange….”
Hae-na murmured softly.
Though night should have narrowed her vision, her sight had instead become clearer than in daylight.
She could see hardened resin on the bark of ancient trees and fallen fruits scattered between the pines in vivid detail.
Her senses had suddenly expanded. And at the same time, she seemed to know where to go.
Hae-na released Seowan’s hand and took a step forward. Startled by the child suddenly moving ahead, Seowan reacted with surprise.
“Hae-na?”
Only then did Hae-na turn to look back. Her eyes blinked slowly, her gaze distant and entranced.
“Sister, over there.”
The child’s small fingers pointed beyond the dense pine trees.
“I think it’s over there.”
Muttering to herself, Hae-na began to walk slowly forward.
Seowan, his expression bewildered, hurried after the child.
Hae-na’s shadow moved silently ahead, so small it seemed it might vanish into the darkness at any moment.
The forest path was so dark we could barely distinguish heaven from earth, yet Hae-na walked without hesitation.
After walking for some time, a faint light began to appear.
At first it was so dim I wondered if I’d imagined it, but as we drew closer, the light grew clearer.
It was a small clearing, large enough to fit two grown men standing side by side.
The light was seeping up from beneath the ground covered in fallen leaves.
Hae-na carefully swept away the leaves with her foot. Then the faint light shot upward in a straight beam.
“Ah, sister.”
Startled by her own discovery, I forgot the title I’d decided on and called out to Seowan instead.
“Here… here?”
Gone was the entranced expression from moments before—my face was utterly bewildered.
Seowan and Cheon-eul carefully approached where I stood.
A very faint breeze could be felt blowing.
More than anything, that light.
‘It must be moonstone.’
Only moonstone could emit light even when buried beneath dark, heavy earth.
“…Yes. It does seem to be.”
Cheon-eul murmured an answer in place of the silent Seowan.
The moment I broke into a smile, a strange sensation shook through my body and passed.
‘What?’
It was similar to what I’d felt before, yet different.
If the previous feeling had been a certainty that something was definitely here, now….
‘Something feels ominous.’
A chill crept up my spine. My face went rigid in an instant.
“Hae-na?”
Seowan called out to me with concern. My face was filled with anxiety.
“Let’s go back. Quickly, please.”
I spoke urgently. Sensing something was amiss, Seowan immediately nodded.
“Right. We’ll come back tomorrow.”
Seowan picked up a branch to mark the location.
I looked around nervously.
“Sister, hurry….”
The ground seemed to tremble strangely.
Precarious, as if it might collapse at any moment….
Crack.
Seowan set down a branch on the ground.
That single, careless gesture shattered the precarious balance we’d been maintaining.
The earth beneath my feet gave way. Before I could react, the gaping maw of the ground swallowed all three of us.
Crash, boom—!
* * *
Hae-na struggled to lift her eyelids open.
Soft light filtered into her blurred vision.
Soon, Hae-na realized she was lying sprawled on the ground.
‘I must have lost consciousness.’
From the moment the floor collapsed and I fell, I’d squeezed my eyes shut in terror and remembered nothing after.
Hae-na slowly pushed herself into a sitting position. Then she cautiously moved her arms and legs.
Since nothing hurt terribly, it seemed I hadn’t suffered any serious injuries.
As Hae-na tilted her head in confusion, she recalled that before losing consciousness, a gentle breeze had cradled her, supporting her fall.
“Cheon-eul…”
Her soft murmur echoed through the space with a hollow ring.
Startled, Hae-na lifted her head.
The place where Hae-na had fallen was a rather spacious cave.
Pale white light shimmered from all directions.
At the sight of it, Hae-na’s face went deathly pale.
‘Moonstone.’
The light wasn’t as cold as what had formed the Yeon-ga Underground Prison, but it was unmistakably the same luminescence.
The cave’s width wasn’t particularly broad. Yet the path stretching before her extended quite far, and she could see it bend faintly in the distance.
“Sister?”
Hae-na called out to Seowan with a trembling voice, carefully and cautiously. But only the child’s small voice echoed back—no answer came.
Hae-na’s fear deepened.
Around her were neither Seowan nor Cheon-eul, nor even ordinary soil that should have scattered down with the collapsing ground.
‘It feels like someone separated me here alone…’
Terror filled the child’s round eyes. Just as Hae-na gripped her trembling hands tightly together—
The clusters of light that had shimmered like dewdrops beading on the moonstone began to move.
The dull, massive concentrations of light refined themselves into delicate threads.
Soon they began spreading across the cave’s walls, floor, and ceiling in different directions.
Like flowing water, like swirling wind. They traced circles before stretching into lines, interlocked to become one, then scattered and divided again.
“Wow…”
It was mysterious and beautiful. Hae-na, forgetting her fear and marveling at the sight, suddenly froze.
The spectacle of thousands of threads of light dancing seemed somehow familiar.
‘That light I saw before, inside sister’s body…’
Not only in Seowan, but also what I’d seen in Cheon-eul and Yeon-bi.
It was strange that I hadn’t realized it sooner, but the light now unfolding before Hae-na’s eyes was identical to what had been concentrated near Seowan’s heart.
When Hae-na reached out toward the chaotic swirling energy, the concentrated threads of light dispersed beautifully, just like the spectacle now visible before her eyes.
‘But why?’
I tilted my head in confusion.
Seowan had clearly said that the lunar force within the Moonstone and my spiritual energy were in conflict.
Yet now, witnessing both forces with my own eyes, they felt like the same power.
Then, the threads of light that had been weaving and dancing in every direction suddenly stretched out in a single, straight line toward a specific point.
As if beckoning me to follow.

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————