The dragon daughter does not fly until she soars to the heavens; the vermillion bird does not sing until its voice startles the world.

Bao Zhu leaned against Wei Xun’s embrace, weeping loudly with tears and snot flowing freely. More than a month’s worth of accumulated grievances poured out completely, like a bursting dam, soaking his clothes from shoulder to chest.

Because she cried with such complete abandon, so utterly absorbed, she broke out in fine sweat. Wei Xun held her, feeling like he was embracing a hot, soft little furnace. The warmth penetrated straight to his chest, melting his frozen heart and lungs.

With tears finally flowing, he knew she was saved. For a moment, he felt both sorrow and joy, his tender feelings tangled in knots. He felt that all the martial world’s nicknames combined couldn’t compare to the glory of being called a “crybaby” – so pitiable, lovable, and admirable, simply radiant. Unable to control his emotions, he secretly kissed her sweat-dampened temples, his heart beating like thunder.

Tears washed away the accumulated knots in her heart. Bao Zhu sobbed as she spoke of her companion Mimolayan’s fate. Only then did Wei Xun learn that he had been able to arrive in time because he had discovered the three-finger rouge mark left on the boy’s chest. From initially avoiding the facts to finally facing the cruel truth of eternal separation, Bao Zhu held him tightly and burst into tears again.

The two embraced closely, speaking at length and pouring out their hearts about the tormented days after their separation. After this blood-and-heart-wrenching outpouring, Bao Zhu sniffled and quietly complained: “You smell bad.”

Wei Xun’s face immediately flushed red with embarrassment as he awkwardly loosened his arms and retreated. Since detecting Bao Zhu’s suicidal thoughts, he hadn’t dared leave her side for a moment these past days, with no time to attend to his own cleanliness.

Bao Zhu felt her body loosen as he released his hold. Realizing he had let go, her previously subsiding whimpers instantly rose in pitch. She grabbed Wei Xun’s belt, raised her neck, and wailed at the top of her voice: “I didn’t tell you to let go, waaaaah!”

So Wei Xun frantically embraced her again.

Having seen each other at their most bedraggled, they didn’t mind each other’s condition. They continued talking and crying until the sky showed the pale light of dawn, finally feeling parched and with numb legs.

Yang Xingjian had carefully crafted a satisfactory suicide poem, weighing each word and phrase through repeated revisions. After writing letters of confession to Prince Shao and a family letter explaining the meaning of “when the master is humiliated, the retainer dies,” he purchased white silk, burned incense, and bathed, waiting only for the princess’s jade-like death to properly and respectfully arrange her funeral before preparing to follow her in death.

Who would have expected that after everything was prepared, he would see these two return hand in hand? The princess’s eyes were red and swollen like peaches, saying she had cried herself hungry and wanted steamed buns.

Shisan Lang took the money and was about to run outside when Bao Zhu poked her head out from the room, adding: “Remember to buy ones with mutton filling!”

Yang Xingjian stood dazed in the hall. After Wei Xun escorted Bao Zhu back to her room, he pointed at him mockingly: “Master always said things in books were poisonous. I never believed it, but now I know his words were true. Your brain must have been poisoned into stupidity.” He then hurried off to fetch water from the jar to bathe.

Due to the Guanyin Slave case, the group had delayed in Luoyang far longer than expected. With dramatic weather changes and to prevent being caught unprepared on the subsequent journey, Bao Zhu sent Yang Xingjian to the South Market to purchase fur robes, padded jackets, and other autumn and winter clothing for everyone.

She personally went to a coffin shop and purchased a fine coffin. With Wei Xun leading the way, the two martial brothers dug up Mimolayan’s corpse again and reburied it in a different location.

After placing the coffin in the bottom of the grave, before filling it with earth, Bao Zhu walked to the edge of the pit and said to her deceased friend: “Most of the treacherous rebels who watched you and me dance have been executed. There are still a few fish that escaped the net, surviving through exile. If I can regain power in the future, I will surely eliminate them one by one.”

She took out two gold Kaiyuan Tongbao coins from her pouch, weighed them in her palm, and said solemnly: “This is my promise and your burial gift. Let’s see what heaven wills.” With that, she threw the gold coins into the grave, two golden arcs falling onto the coffin lid.

All three peered down to see the coins spinning for a moment before settling in perfect alignment – one heads, one tails. A sacred divination – Bao Zhu’s lips curved slightly upward in a satisfied smile.

On the day of departure, for good luck, the two martial brothers changed into their newly purchased padded clothes early. Having wandered the rivers and lakes, they had always worn coarse clothes and eaten simple food, never indulging in such luxury. Shisan Lang was delighted, turning to speak with his senior brother, but saw that his bare chest was covered with dark blue veins. The small patch of clear skin that had remained at his chest’s spiritual platform was now completely covered with crisscrossing lines, like a dense spider web.

Shisan Lang’s heart suddenly sank. He knew that once the sickness invaded the heart and the heart’s blood turned cold, it would be Wei Xun’s end. The little monk’s eyes reddened as he cried out in anguish: “Senior Brother!”

Seeing his junior’s expression, Wei Xun looked down at his own chest. During these days of searching for people, he had exhausted himself rushing about, fighting several death battles, his strength depleted and spirit endangered. The evil disease had accelerated its spread, and even the last trace of warmth in his heart had vanished. Now his body was numb and cold – except for those brief, precious moments of embracing her, he had almost no sensation the rest of the time.

He hastily pulled his robe closed and sternly instructed Shisan Lang: “Don’t talk too much! For the remaining journey, we must quicken our pace and keep a low profile. You know what to do in the end.”

Shisan Lang remembered his responsibilities, wiped his tears with his sleeve, and nodded in agreement.

The ox cart and donkey’s saddle and bridle were already prepared, waiting only to depart. Bao Zhu still lingered and dawdled in the bedroom as before. Wei Xun also went to urge her as usual, finding her staring blankly at the bronze mirror on her dressing table. Her makeup was done, but her black hair still hung loose, her expression showing some dejection. Her previous sun damage had healed completely, growing new skin. With a thin layer of powder applied, the uneven skin tone was barely visible, though she was considerably darker.

Wei Xun asked gently: “Since it’s departure day, shall we hire a hairdresser to style your hair so you can set off beautifully?”

Bao Zhu frowned tightly, refusing firmly: “No! I can’t bear having strangers tugging at my hair anymore.”

Seeing her lingering fear, Wei Xun understood she was recalling unpleasant memories. Though the clouds had parted to reveal the sky, completely dispelling those dark memories would take a long time, like waiting for new fingernails to grow.

He contemplated for a moment, then turned to gently close the door. Gathering courage, he walked behind her, reached for the jade-backed comb on the dressing table, and asked tentatively: “I… I shouldn’t count as a stranger, should I?”

Bao Zhu was slightly startled, looking surprised as she asked: “You really know how to style hair?”

Wei Xun spoke sincerely, admitting: “I’ve only observed… I’ve never styled anyone else’s hair. This is my first time, so I can’t guarantee it will look good.”

Bao Zhu studied Wei Xun’s expression in the mirror, seeing nervousness mixed with shyness. As he stood closer, the fresh scent of new clothes mingled with his own crisp, clear aura. She inexplicably felt shy too, her cheeks growing warm with rosy clouds.

She lowered her eyelids, feigning composure: “Then I’ll let you try. If you don’t do well, I’ll give guidance. Also, it can’t be…”

Wei Xun understood immediately, quickly finishing: “It can’t be a Falling Horse Bun – that’s unlucky.”

The two looked at each other in the mirror with knowing smiles. Wei Xun immediately recovered his carefree, fearless demeanor, joking: “The famous Donkey-Riding Lady, renowned throughout the martial world and invincible everywhere, actually doesn’t need to avoid omens while mounted.”

Bao Zhu raised her chin proudly: “Defeated opponent Green-Robed Guest, hurry up and get to work! Don’t delay the auspicious departure time!”

After their playful banter, they discussed and experimented together, managing to create a reasonably neat Pleasure Garden Bun. In deep autumn, after osmanthus flowers withered, chrysanthemums bloomed in fragrant competition. Clusters of golden layered flowers filled the courtyard. Wei Xun picked a handful, inserting them one by one into her hair.

After finishing her grooming, Bao Zhu stepped out of the room with satisfaction, donned her veiled hat, gracefully mounted her donkey, and the group set off on their journey again.

Having learned from the Guanyin Slave incident, everyone decided to act low-key. Bao Zhu changed into a plain round-collar robe, looking no different from the most ordinary travelers.

However, as she rode her donkey through Luoyang’s streets and alleys, the beggars and laborers along the roadside looked up to see a green-robed youth leading her donkey by the reins, with a horn bow and quiver hanging from the donkey’s rump. Seeing this scene, they immediately guessed the legendary identity of this donkey-riding girl, all watching her pass with reverent gazes.

Prince Qi Li Yu had bullied others with his power, kidnapping the donkey-riding lady who played Guanyin, only to be killed by her single arrow. This news had already quietly spread throughout the martial world. People in the martial world speculated that since Prince Qi was, after all, a member of the Li Tang imperial family – a top-tier noble from the clouds above – even if Remnant Sun Academy was lawless, after committing murder they should at least flee Luoyang to temporarily avoid attention.

Who would have expected an outcome that left all martial artists stunned? After Prince Qi was assassinated, he was somehow charged with treason, his entire household confiscated and exterminated by the court, with high officials and nobles closely associated with him also falling one after another to miserable ends. Meanwhile, the Remnant Sun Academy disciples who should have fled remained openly free to come and go in Luoyang, completely unaffected.

This was truly incomprehensible, making it difficult to fathom the mysteries involved. People in the martial world couldn’t help but connect this to Chen Shigu’s relic that could “overthrow the Tang Dynasty and bring chaos to the world.” Rumors spread wildly throughout the martial world that the Donkey-Riding Lady possessed this unpredictably dangerous weapon, enabling her to achieve such mysterious results.

As these strange tales spread widely, people remembered that the mysterious girl practiced rare military formation martial arts, giving rise to various absurd speculations and fantasies. Thus, her true identity became increasingly mysterious and unfathomable.

Whenever busybodies questioned Remnant Sun Academy disciples, their reactions were quite interesting.

Initially, several of them firmly denied that the Donkey-Riding Lady was Remnant Sun Academy’s new leader. After this series of strange events fermented, they reconsidered, thinking that since they didn’t know when Wei Da’s debt of gratitude could be collected, he should pay some interest first.

Simply acknowledging verbally that the Donkey-Riding Lady was Remnant Sun Academy’s leader would allow them to push Chen Shigu’s troublesome dying words onto the two of them. If they accidentally caused trouble, they could also go with the flow and let her take the blame. After thinking this through, these people reached a tacit understanding and chose to remain silent, essentially confirming it by default.

While leaving Luoyang, Bao Zhu’s group passed through the South Market and unfortunately encountered the red-robed official they had previously clashed with on a narrow road.

The old conflict resurfaced. Seeing his entourage clearing the street and driving away pedestrians ahead, Yang Xingjian gritted his teeth, secretly resolving not to let the princess suffer humiliation again. He took out his fish-shaped insignia, determined to compete and argue right from wrong. Wei Xun was already positioning his finger joints, preparing for a big fight.

Bao Zhu sat on her donkey, studying the official’s face from afar, recalling that she hadn’t seen this person at Prince Qi’s mansion. Given his rank, he probably wasn’t qualified to attend Li Yu’s banquets.

In that instant, various past events flashed through Bao Zhu’s mind.

Having crossed countless mountains and rivers and experienced all walks of life, perhaps the meaning of travel was repeatedly seeking to discover who one truly was in this dusty world. Knowing her true power, she no longer needed to rely on empty ceremonies to elevate her status, nor did she need to care about external judgments.

She had initially disliked the title “Donkey-Riding Lady,” but now, savoring it carefully, it had a transcendent quality of a worldly hermit. Moreover, having earned it entirely through her own abilities, it was no less impressive than the undeserved title of Princess Wangshou.

All worldly vanities are empty; today’s sudden enlightenment reveals my true self. Such trivial matters as competing for road space were truly light as feathers.

After this realization, Bao Zhu felt relieved, smiled knowingly, and calmly led her donkey to stand aside, yielding the road for the red-robed official to pass first.

This calm reaction rather surprised Wei Xun and Yang Xingjian, but seeing her composure and genuine indifference, they followed her lead in yielding.

Leaving the city gate, with the official road extending infinitely toward the distance, the magnificent Luoyang capital behind them grew smaller and smaller, gradually resembling an ordinary frontier pass.

Bao Zhu lowered her head to examine her red-dyed fingernails. New nails had grown a short section, while the tips remained blood-red. She thought to herself that taking this path was destined to be neither clean nor respectable.

Wei Xun frequently looked back to observe her expressions and behavior. Seeing her staring at her fingers again, his heart grew anxious, and he quickly reached out to grasp both her hands, looking at her without words.

Seeing the concern in his eyes, Bao Zhu knew he had misunderstood and explained: “Don’t worry, I’m just feeling somewhat emotional. It’s a pity that my hands are already stained with human blood, having killed and broken the precept. I’ll never again be qualified to portray Guanyin.”

Wei Xun’s gaze was firm as he said solemnly: “You are the only Guanyin in my heart.”

End of “Guanyin Slave” Volume

Author’s Note: Complete! This volume is the longest story in the entire work, reaching 160,000 characters. Due to length limitations, some supporting characters’ subsequent developments are left blank.

Tuoba Sanniang got her desired beautiful new leather pouch as wished, Xu Er found beautiful scenic spots, and both established bases in Luoyang. With Mount Beimang as backing, Qiu Ren’s aphrodisiac medicines sold even better. Luo Tuotuo continued his wandering monk career.

Cao Hong’s sister Cao Yan, Yao Jiangren, and others continued living ordinary lives according to their deceased relatives’ expectations.