The long night had yet to break, and the insignificant people seemed to walk beneath the profound gaze of deities, yet when they looked up, they saw only pitch darkness.

“When I was in Shu region, I passed by a place called Wangchuan Valley…”

Zhang Yuehui had been speaking intermittently to Nanyi, trying to divert her attention and lessen her pain. He could sense that her strength was rapidly draining away.

“Mm, what happened then?” Nanyi replied weakly, her feet moving forward instinctively and numbly.

“In the valley there was a river, and in the river stood a jagged, strange rock with a huge hole through its center… The locals said that long, long ago, it was formed from a mortal man who fell in love with a celestial maiden. Their love was not tolerated by heaven and earth. The celestial maiden was punished and forever cast into darkness—even when she was so close to her lover, they could not meet. Her lover waited day and night, eventually turning into stone in the valley.”

“…But even after becoming stone, the one he waited for still couldn’t see him.”

“Something miraculous happened. Every year around the winter solstice, the setting sun’s afterglow would shine precisely on the side wall of the hole, making that strange rock seem bathed in golden light, glittering brilliantly. Only on that day could the celestial maiden borrow the light to meet her beloved… And those fortunate enough to witness this sight could have any wish granted, even bringing flesh back to withered bones or reversing time itself.”

He told her a distant legend, and she seemed to see that beautiful valley stream, that single ray of slanted golden sunlight.

Everything was so beautiful—waiting and watching across time finally bore fruit.

She smiled gently. People needed some illusory beauty to support the heavy weight of reality. Without realizing it, she had walked a great distance forward.

But when she looked at Zhang Yuehui, guilt suddenly rose in her heart: “When you were in Shu… you should have lived well…”

As soon as she said it, she regretted it—she was bringing up exactly the wrong topic.

“Not very well,” he replied.

“Why not?”

“Too far from home.”

Her heart felt like it had been struck a dull blow.

Just then, Zhang Yuehui’s footsteps suddenly stopped, and he pointed into the distance with joy: “A city!”

Nanyi raised her head. The east finally showed a crescent of white, and in the faintly brightening sky, looking past the horizon of the wasteland, they saw signs of human habitation.

They were almost there! Right before their eyes!

Hope rose together with the sunrise.

However, standing before the crude city gate, both of them were dumbstruck.

This was not Yanlu City, but a remote small town they had never even heard the name of.

They had gone the wrong way.

They had carried anxious hearts, afraid that pursuers might catch up from behind, focusing only on hurrying along in the darkness, but had accidentally lost their way in the black night. They didn’t even know at which step they had begun going wrong.

Nanyi could no longer stand. She slumped down along the wall, murmuring in despair: “I’m going to die.”

The fruitlessness after their arduous journey nearly shattered her will. The dam she had stubbornly defended collapsed, and delayed pain spread to all her limbs. Nanyi wanted to rally herself and set out again, but she couldn’t scrape together an ounce of strength.

Zhang Yuehui also collapsed beside her. They were exactly like mud at the base of the wall, without even the energy to think about what to do next.

Zhang Yuehui murmured: “We need a carriage… or a horse.”

“No money.”

Their departure had been too hasty. Being able to instruct Qiao Yinzhi to stuff the weapons and documents back on her during the brief moment of the body search was already the limit—she hadn’t thought that this final stretch would still require money.

She silently shed tears. She had wanted to be weak for just a moment, not wanting to magnify her emotions and affect Zhang Yuehui, but once this opening was made, all her despair burst forth uncontrollably in this moment.

“No money…” The tears flowed harder, but she couldn’t even cry aloud—the heaving of her chest would pull at the wounds on her shoulder blades. She could only sob pathetically, choking: “I didn’t bring money…”

A single grain of rice can defeat a hero.

Going south while intending north—no matter how hard she tried, she was still moving further from her goal.

What should she do? What could she still do?

Zhang Yuehui struggled to prop himself up, reaching out to gently wipe her face, comforting her: “It’s alright, we haven’t reached a dead end yet.”

She looked at him through tear-blurred eyes: “I have no strength left, Zhang Yuehui.”

Before this, she had never had thoughts of failure—or rather, some kind of will had supported her, absolutely refusing to look toward the abyss. But if she glanced even once, she would be swallowed by the abyss and fall.

“Even one copper coin would be enough.”

The descent seemed to stop.

Nanyi suddenly seemed to remember something, but her hands could no longer move, so she had Zhang Yuehui search her body and pull out a pouch. After Zhang Yuehui opened it and moved aside the various small odds and ends inside, a string of copper coins was clearly revealed.

“Where did these come from?” Zhang Yuehui was astonished.

Nanyi also looked stunned: “Along with the keys, I pickpocketed them from that bailiff.”

It was purely out of instinct for dealing with crisis—Nanyi had taken everything from that man’s body. Fortunately, heaven never seals all paths.

“…”

This was the first time Zhang Yuehui felt that these insignificant copper coins were more dazzling than mountains of gold and silver.

Making money from money was child’s play for him.

“Hey, wait for me to come back, then we’ll have a carriage to ride.” He jingled the copper coins in his hand, once again showing the carefree, smiling face she was familiar with.

This immediately calmed Nanyi’s exhausted spirit. She felt that Zhang Yuehui was omnipotent.

Zhang Yuehui wrapped himself in a burlap sack he picked up by the roadside to cover his blood-stained clothes and slipped into the town’s gambling den.

The gambling table was his domain—he was still the king who dominated all quarters.

One hour later, Zhang Yuehui came out carrying a heavy bag of money.

He was going to the post station to hire a carriage, then to the medicine shop to buy some medicine for Nanyi.

Zhang Yuehui was too eager and didn’t notice several shifty-eyed ruffians squatting by the gambling den entrance who had set their sights on his money pouch.

He was accustomed to looking down on the world from above—he had almost lost his beast-like instincts. He was still too proud. He had never truly accepted that he had been thrown into the lowest levels of humanity, where even the dust he could once scatter with a flick of his finger might now be a mountain for him.

He was only thinking that the immediate crisis would soon be resolved, and his steps even became somewhat light.

Only when he entered the alley did he belatedly realize he was being followed.

When he turned around, there were people blocking him from the front as well.

Zhang Yuehui gripped the money bag tightly, trying to resolve this conflict: “Good fellows, I’m only temporarily stranded here. I have plenty of money in the Central Plains. Let me go, and I can share all the money with you.”

As soon as he finished speaking, they burst into laughter.

No one believed him. He looked worse than a beggar now.

“Your grandfather here also has plenty of money—I’ll burn it all for you!”

Someone rudely swung a fist at Zhang Yuehui’s face. He was caught off guard and nearly couldn’t keep standing.

All his life, he had been a smooth talker who could speak to people as people and to ghosts as ghosts. But at this moment, whether talking to people or ghosts was useless—he was just flesh and blood to be slaughtered at will.

The Asura, stripped of all divine power, had come to the killing field he himself had created.

He had become the prey.

Unless he let go of the money and begged for his life.

But that money was Nanyi’s lifeline.

Zhang Yuehui refused to let go. He felt an extremely unreal sense of absurdity. He had fought many masters, giving and taking, winning and losing. He was a world unto himself, plundering others’ glory, but he had never imagined that these few local thugs would become the most important enemies determining his life and death.

Zhang Yuehui fought back with all his might, swinging his fists, but with all his injuries and the vast difference in strength, he was soon completely defeated in their group beating.

Fists and feet fell on him like raindrops. He didn’t feel pain—his whole body even felt light and floating. For a moment, he drifted up to mid-air in a daze and saw himself. The vicious thugs pressed him down and slammed his head hard against the wall, trying to make him let go.

Blood flowed from his body. He was like a torn piece of cloth, whistling with holes everywhere. It was summer wind—warm and moist, like a mother’s hand, stroking away his pain.

Let go, one voice said to him.

Hold on a little longer, another voice said to him.

But his body no longer belonged to him. Someone approached him, a sharp dagger stabbing into his body. All his will was concentrated in his tightly curled fingers—this seemed to be the only thing he could grip.

The only thing he could grip, the only thing he could give to Nanyi.

Even when he had no breath left, his hand couldn’t be pried open.

The thugs simply used a small knife to cut open the money bag and took the money inside. Finally, they gave the motionless person on the ground a vicious kick.

“Bad luck.”

His life of brocade songs and wealth, sitting atop riches that could rival kingdoms, ended ignominiously and inexplicably in this unnoticed alley for the price of a carriage.

Zhang Yuehui could almost imagine the sighs of future generations, but no one would ever know that at this moment, he actually felt relieved. At least he had ended his life in such an absurd way, rather than like a hero who would be remembered forever—otherwise he would feel uncomfortable all over. When people mentioned Zhang Yuehui in the future, they would only think he was an unlucky villain.

Only toward Nanyi did he feel any guilt. He was willing to leave all his prayers in this world to her, hoping she could escape and live well, fulfilling her heart’s desires.

Only when facing death does one understand the meaning of “a bad life is better than a good death.” Before, he wasn’t afraid of dying—he only wanted revenge on everyone, eager to drag everyone down to hell. But now he so wanted to live, yet he truly couldn’t hold on any longer.

In the last moment before closing his eyes, Zhang Yuehui saw colored lanterns hanging outside the alley. Today was actually the Qixi Festival.

They too had once sat together on Qixi night, gazing at the fireworks rising over the city. The east wind releases flowers from a thousand trees at night, and blows down more—stars like rain.

In the dim light, she had smiled and said to him: “When you have money, set off big fireworks for me.”

Alright, wait for me.

In the next life, I’ll be a good person. I’ll come find you first and never let go.

——Final Chapter——

In the autumn of the first year of Ganding, the handwritten letter of former Grand Secretary Shen Zhizhong came to light again. The “Xie Queshan treason case” that had caused an uproar for half a year was finally overturned. The truth of his sacrifice for Li Du Mansion’s survival in the critical moment was also finally revealed. Emperor Zhao personally erected a monument to clear his name, posthumously conferring the title of Guanglu Doctor with the posthumous name Wenzheng, to inform all under heaven.

Along with this, the previous dynasty’s case of the Zhang family’s military errors was also retried, vindicating the Zhang clan.

Zhang Yuehui and his family were buried together back in their hometown.

Even though some time had passed, Nanyi would always dream of the day Zhang Yuehui died. When she and Song Muchuan found him, he lay cold on the ground, clutching a torn money bag in his hand, and no matter how they called, he wouldn’t wake up.

Nanyi stubbornly covered his wounds. She insisted that Zhang Yuehui wouldn’t die. She held his corpse, crying as she asked Song Muchuan if that sly merchant had taken some fake death drug to trick her.

Song Muchuan had arrived just one step too late.

When Nanyi didn’t appear according to the original plan, he realized she had met with an accident and pursued alone on horseback. When he found the prison cart, they had just escaped not long before.

But he hadn’t found them on the road to Yanlu City, so he turned back to search in another direction before finding Nanyi.

All along the way, Nanyi was almost mad with wanting to bring Zhang Yuehui’s corpse, seeking doctors and medicine for him, until the first fly landed on his body. Only then did she suddenly realize he was dead—such a dignified person would never allow these insects near him.

That demon-like person who seemed immune to all poisons had truly left her in an almost mocking way.

She buried him, stepped on the road paved with white bones, and brought that document back to Jinling with Song Muchuan, making it public.

After those people died one after another, everything began to go smoothly, but facing all the rewards, praise, and eulogies, Nanyi became increasingly numb.

She was just living, living for them—she couldn’t die.

After everything settled, perhaps seeing Nanyi too empty, Song Muchuan inexplicably suggested to her—why not go to Shu region for a visit?

By then it was already winter. Nanyi agreed as if possessed by a ghost. She wanted to see the Wangchuan Valley that Zhang Yuehui had spoken of.

She wanted to know if seeing the wonder of golden light passing through the hole would really allow her to make the legendary wish that would surely come true.

Though she hadn’t thought of what wish to make. She was filled with too many regrets, but could do nothing. Her shell and soul were gradually separating—she was almost becoming a walking corpse.

Shu region had many cloudy days. She waited several days, and forget golden light through the hole—she didn’t even see sunlight. Nanyi sat in the cold small boat, looking at the river winding around that strange rock, peaceful yet cruel. There were no myths in this world. That abrupt hole in the stone was just like hollowed-out lungs.

She thought that heaven was probably determined to oppose her.

She was born to misery, her whole life adrift. Everything she sought and loved, she could not obtain.

To prevent her delusions, the celestial maiden could no longer come to see her lover. Heaven was truly malicious.

She sat with closed eyes like this, imagining herself also becoming a stone—needing no food or drink, having no sorrow or joy. She was not waiting, nor did she need to watch. She was just the most ordinary stone.

The wind began to blow.

She didn’t know how much time passed before she felt a ray of setting sun fall on her face. Piercing, burning.

She dared not be surprised, afraid it was just an illusion, but still tentatively opened her eyes. At this moment, she unexpectedly saw the scene of clouds parting to reveal the sun.

The setting sun blazed, and golden light leaped on the river surface.

The light trace slowly moved toward that jagged rock.

Nanyi held her breath. This insignificant miracle seemed like a sign, giving her a strange premonition. She heard footsteps behind her, and then a all-too-familiar voice rang out.

“Can you row? Would you ferry me across?”

Nanyi suddenly turned around. Golden light passed through the stone hole, and the light boat had already passed ten thousand mountains.

——(Main text complete)——