Lin Sui’an was thoroughly confused. This vision from her golden finger ability was unlike any she had experienced before.

Not only had it lasted far longer, but the shifts in perspective had been strangely erratic.

[Could this be Qin Nanyin’s memory? Might it be that after she disappeared, she died here? That her body remains here? And that it inadvertently triggered the conditions for the golden finger to activate?]

“Jiang Wende — Qin considers herself to have had no quarrel whatsoever with the Taiyuan Jiang Family. Why… cough cough cough… why?” Every word Qin Nanyin forced out came at tremendous cost, and several drops of crimson fell across the field of vision.

“Why?” Jiang Wende said. “The reason is simple. The family head, Jiang Yongshou, has long harbored feelings for General Qin — pined for her, in fact, night and day. He therefore went to every conceivable length to invite the General to share in the pleasures of a joyful union. Knowing full well, however, that the General is peerless in martial arts and unyielding in temperament, he feared being too abrupt and offending her — and so he asked me to first have a little heart-to-heart conversation with the General. To help set the mood, as it were.”

[Disgusting. So it’s that filthy old wretch Jiang Yongshou after all!]

Qin Nanyin gave a cold laugh.

Jiang Wende paced a few steps. “That said — in order to bring the General here, I went to considerable trouble. If all of this were merely in service of such a small and common matter of personal pleasure, it would be something of a waste for Tang Nation’s first war god, wouldn’t it?”

Qin Nanyin said, “Oh?”

“Some time ago, the Taiyuan Jiang Family came across certain treasures in an ancient tomb, and made some rather interesting discoveries,” Jiang Wende said, clicking his tongue thoughtfully. “Has the General ever heard of the doctrine of — shall we say — extracting the essence of martial prowess to supplement one’s vitality, and drawing upon refined energy to extend one’s lifespan?”

Qin Nanyin said, “What… cough cough… what sort of nonsense is that?”

Jiang Wende began to sway and recite in a singsong tone: The source of essence lies in the star-chart of the vast cosmos, the constant law of the Heavenly Way. When Heaven’s primal light cleaves asunder, the stellar energies of the ten directions — cleansing the firmament and settling the earth — may be harnessed to become the Star Lord. Through the application of method, one may absorb the workings of the star-chart and drink from the fount of the boundless universe. Where yin and yang are ordered and in harmony, the essence of martial power — which is the refined flower of yang — may be absorbed into the body, and with it, prowess increases and lifespan extends. This is the righteous path!

[Oh, for heaven’s sake — that is the preface from Jiang Yongshou’s salacious picture-scroll!]

“A person of refined martial cultivation absorbs the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, and thereby attains the power of the stars. Another person, through the technique of the union of yin and yang, may then draw that power into themselves — increasing their fortune, vitality, and years of life!”

Qin Nanyin burst into laughter. “Hahahaha — cough cough — hahahaha! What absolute, incoherent drivel! Hahaha — cough cough cough — hahaha — cough cough cough —”

With each cough, more crimson drops fell within the field of vision, until the view was drowned in a spreading wash of red.

Through the blood-red haze, Jiang Wende looked down at Qin Nanyin from above, his gaze full of something resembling compassion. “Even a war god is, at the core, nothing more than a lowly military man. Such a person cannot be expected to comprehend arts of such depth. Lamentable. Truly lamentable.”

“Cough cough — The Taiyuan Jiang Family are, at the very least, educated people — and yet they believe in something like this. Cough — Utterly absurd. Hahaha — utterly absurd!”

“No matter. Nor did I ever expect the General to understand. You need only cooperate.” A smug satisfaction spread across Jiang Wende’s face. “After years of study and research, I have developed considerable expertise in this art. The single most important factor in practicing the extraction of martial essence is the selection of the proper ‘martial subject’ as raw material. An inferior specimen not only fails to increase one’s fortune and lifespan — it actively shortens it. Only a ‘Star Lord,’ one who has been forged through a thousand trials and bears the power of the stars, will suffice!”

Qin Nanyin’s laughter only grew.

Jiang Wende seemed to take that laughter as encouragement, growing more animated with each word. “Among the stellar powers, the foremost is the first star of the Big Dipper — Pojun. To obtain the power of Pojun, one must use the Heavenly Stone to summon the star-soul; then use the earth-grown fruit to purify the body; then apply the Ten Cruel Torments to seal and constrain the mind and spirit. All three working in concert — body, heart, and soul refined together — is how the ‘Star Lord’ is made! General, please observe —”

Jiang Wende pointed toward the stone wall across the way, pulsing with its faint green glow. “This wall was originally a single piece of Heavenly Stone. In ages past, a master craftsman forged from it a sharp blade and sealed it within a stone casket. This blade is the sacred instrument for summoning stellar power and gathering essence. And along the banks of the underground river within this cave grows Longshen fruit — the dragon-shaped variety. When consumed, it purifies the body in its entirety, granting immense strength, rendering one fearless and impervious to pain — a divine vessel!”

“A martial practitioner consumes the Longshen fruit. Once the body has been purified, the practitioner is placed upon the Heavenly Stone, and the Ten Cruel Torments are applied to the body, stripping away every human sense and instinct — and from this, the ‘Star Lord Pojun’ is forged!”

Qin Nanyin’s laughter stopped abruptly. Her voice carried bone-chilling killing intent. “Are you completely mad?!”

“Regrettably, none of the martial practitioners we gathered as raw materials proved adequate — not a single one could survive the body purification stage, and success in creating Pojun remained hopelessly out of reach,” Jiang Wende said, turning his head, his smile twisted into something grotesque. “But then — heaven delivered General Qin. A war god’s physique, one seen perhaps once in a hundred years, bearing the very title of ‘Pojun of a Thousand Autumns’ — surely this is the will of heaven! If I could obtain one Pojun, the Jiang Family head would live as long as heaven itself — and I, Jiang Wende, would go mad just this once. What of it?!”

Qin Nanyin coughed violently for a long moment, her breathing growing slow and heavy. When her voice settled again, it was like ice. “No. You haven’t gone mad. You are, in fact, quite shrewd.”

“The Emperor is old and failing. The Crown Prince and the Second Imperial Prince are locked in stalemate — on the surface, two princes contending for the throne, but in truth, the Taiyuan Jiang Family and the Ganzhou Jiang Family fighting for dominance. The Empress hails from the Ganzhou Jiang Family; the Crown Prince is the legitimate firstborn. The Taiyuan Jiang Family has lately been overshadowed by the Taiyuan Qin Family, putting you at a disadvantage. In other words, the Qin Family Army is currently the single greatest obstacle to the Taiyuan Jiang Family’s grasp for power.”

“You captured me and delivered this lengthy speech about Pojun, Star Lords, fortune, and immortality — for two reasons. First, to lay all the blame at Jiang Yongshou’s feet. Second, with Jiang Yongshou’s support and cover, your operations in the shadows become far more convenient.”

“I expect the Taiyuan Jiang Family is already entirely under your command. That so-called Jiang Yongshou is nothing more than a puppet, beguiled by your fabricated nonsense — just as you said, he likely does not even know that these so-called ‘yin-yang harmonization’ rituals he has been conducting will only hasten his death.”

“Jiang Wende — everything you have done has never been for Jiang Yongshou. It has all been for your own ambition!”

The expression on Jiang Wende’s face shifted — from twisted and manic to something like shock. He crouched down and studied Qin Nanyin intently. A feverish obsession gradually surfaced in his eyes. “Tang Nation’s first war god — this brilliant, heroic, beautiful woman — if she could be mine, become my person, bear my children — Qin Nanyin, at the end of the day, you are still a woman. A woman ought to lie in bed and serve a man —”

Qin Nanyin gave a cold laugh. “In truth, you and Jiang Yongshou are exactly alike. Neither of you has the slightest capacity for rational thought. You both do all your thinking with what’s between your legs —”

“Silence! How dare you compare me to that lecherous old man —”

Suddenly, a fierce whirlwind exploded from nowhere. The field of vision dissolved into a chaos of flying straw and swirling blood — nothing was visible. There was only Jiang Wende’s piercing shriek and the furious shouts of those around him. When the chaos finally settled, Jiang Wende was being held up by several black-clad figures, clutching his own throat, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, his eyes wide with terror. Seven or eight powerfully built men in black had Qin Nanyin pinned hard to the ground, while several more lay scattered around the room, their faces drenched in blood.

“Impossible.” Jiang Wende screamed, his voice tearing at the edges. “How do you still have this much strength in you?!”

Qin Nanyin coughed blood, one mouthful after another — she could no longer speak.

“Ah! It’s the medicinal effect of the Longshen fruit — Qin Nanyin can actually resist the purification of the Longshen fruit! My method of refinement is correct! It is correct! Hahahahaha! Good — excellent! Increase the dosage of Longshen fruit! This time, forging Pojun will surely succeed!”

Jiang Wende’s manic laughter rang out as he was carried from the room. The scene within the field of vision grew blurry, dissolving once again into darkness.

This darkness lasted far longer than before. Every now and then, the sound of children weeping drifted through it.

“Big sister, big sister, why won’t you wake up?”

“Big sister, the Sect Master and the others are almost gone. Big sister, please wake up —”

“The Sect Master can’t understand our words anymore. The Sect Master is almost turning into a demon. Sob sob sob —”

“Big sister, keep holding Qian Jing. Keep holding it. The Sect Master said Qian Jing can save big sister — don’t let go, big sister, whatever you do!”

“Big sister, don’t be afraid. We found the map the Sect Master secretly drew for us. We can definitely escape!”

“We can do everything. Once we’re out, we’ll earn money and get big sister treated.”

“I know how to scout ahead. I know how to memorize maps!”

“I can identify footprints. I can recognize any person by their tracks!”

“I know how to tail someone. I know how to gather all kinds of information!”

“Big sister — I’ll tell you a secret. We’ve also learned how to kill people quietly.”

“I can creep up right to someone’s feet and kill them in silence. I’m very good at killing!”

“Big sister, we will definitely save you and get you out!”

[So that is how it is. Scouting, tailing, identifying footprints, gathering information, ambush attacks — these are the most fundamental skills of the Jingmen disciples. Following this reasoning, the Jingmen thirty years ago must have been something like an assassin organization kept in the shadows by the Taiyuan Jiang Family.]

[No wonder Jiang Wende repeatedly insisted that he was the true Sect Master of the Jingmen, and that his Jingmen was the legitimate one.]

[But how did an assassin organization like the Jingmen transform into the Jingmen that sells street food and wandering snacks?]

The field of vision lurched suddenly, as if something had wrapped around it and launched it forward at great speed — and then, with a thud, it stopped. There was heavy breathing, and the sound of a heartbeat — thud, thud — thud, thud — thud, thud. The air carried the bitter, iron scent of blood, far too familiar — it was the murderous intent buried deep within the soul!

The darkness split open. Before her: a vast stone chamber, torches blazing on the walls, their fire churning wildly, observation galleries carved into the stone of the upper level, Jiang Wende seated high above. The injury at his throat had healed; his expression was electric with anticipation. A ring of Jinyu Guards in black closed the perimeter — it looked, for all the world, like a fighting arena.

All around, the shuffling sound of footsteps spread through the space. Countless men and women in tattered rags, clutching knives, closed in from every direction. They were skeletal, their gazes blank, the whites of their eyes a mottled blue-green.

Qin Nanyin’s voice held weakness and disbelief: “Could you be — the Jingmen’s —”

“Kill!” Jiang Wende bellowed.

Countless blade-lights rained down from every direction. The field of vision pitched and swung frantically. The nauseating stench of blood filled everything, and then — upward, a leap, a landing, crashing into a pool of blood. The screaming of blades rang like ghost-wails, rattling the entire cavern until it hummed.

The men and women advanced step by step, their blades wet with blood and flesh, tears of pale blue sliding silently down their cheeks, lips moving in a murmur:

“Kill me.”

“Kill me…”

“Save the children…”

“Save the children…”

“Save the children —”

“Is this your last wish?” Qin Nanyin breathed out a long, heavy sigh. “Very well.”

A brilliant, crystalline jade-green radiance swept through the body, and the field of vision whirled and flew — as if she had become a bolt of lightning splitting the sky, flashing past one pair of pale blue eyes after another, shattering the grief and despair held within each tear, as great gouts of blood fell like rain, scalding as fire.

Jiang Wende cried out in rapturous joy: “This is Pojun! This is the true Pojun! Hahaha! I was wrong all along — I was so completely wrong! It is not applying the Ten Cruel Torments to the martial practitioner’s body — it is having the martial practitioner kill ceaselessly by those very methods that is the shortcut to forging the heart and soul!”

“The Longshen fruit purifies the body; the heavenly stone-light summons the stellar energy; the Ten Cruel Torments seal the heart and soul — and Pojun is born anew!”

“With Pojun in hand — one against a hundred, unstoppable, all under heaven no more than ants beneath my feet — my Taiyuan Jiang Family shall endure for ten thousand generations, our blessings stretching through eternity — hahahaha —”

The field of vision shot suddenly upward like a meteor, driving straight at Jiang Wende — and within his gaze of terror, plunged into his chest. But it entered barely half an inch before the Jinyu Guards’ blades descended in a whistling roar, and the field of vision lurched into chaos again, plunging straight downward.

Jiang Wende roared: “Deploy the Nine Palace Black Tortoise Formation — take her alive! Alive! This is the only successfully forged Pojun — don’t let her escape!”

A dense mass of Jinyu Guards surged forward, trampling through blood and over bodies. Qin Nanyin’s breathing had become barely perceptible. At that most desperate of moments, the torchlight bloomed outward into nine overlapping lotus-flower illusions, shimmering and ethereal, ripples spreading through the air like moonlit water — and a spotless white silver mask came tumbling into view.

[Yun Zhong Yue?!]

The memory cut off. Another long stretch of darkness, and when vision returned, she was within a mountain forest. The sky was dim and overcast, and snowflakes drifted on and off in the wind.

The children from the cave stood in a row, crying softly. Beside them stood a young man wearing a silver mask — resembling Yun Zhong Yue, and yet not quite him.

Qin Nanyin’s voice rose: “Have you all memorized the blade techniques I taught you?”

The children nodded together and held up their various little booklets — some filled with characters, some blank, some with strokes missing from the characters, some covered in thick black blotches, some with drawings that at least suggested human shapes, some with only stick figures. “Yes! We remember, big sister!”

“This blade technique came to me in an instant at the brink of death. Its moves are… somewhat brutal. But it is sufficient for self-preservation.”

“Big sister, what is this blade technique called?”

“…It evolved from the Cavalry Saber technique and the Ten Cruel Torments — it is a technique for killing. Let it be called the Ten Cruel Blade Art…”

“Though this is a blade art for killing,” the silver-masked young man said, “you will use it in service of saving others. It should not bear that name. After ten cruelties comes ten purity — this technique should be called the ‘Ten Purity.'”

Qin Nanyin said, “Ten Purity… Ten Purity… That sounds lovely! Yun Zhong Yue, you truly are better at naming things than I am!”

[Wait, wait, wait — this one is also Yun Zhong Yue? Could this be — the previous generation’s Yun Zhong Yue?]

“But big sister, what on earth is the last move — ‘Breaking Stillness’?” A small boy raised his hand. “We truly can’t make sense of it!”

“‘Breaking Stillness’ means this: ‘Without breaking, there is no breaking; without breaking, there is no establishing; break, and then find stillness.’ Only one whose will is unshakeable — who can look within and face themselves honestly, who holds great righteousness in their heart, who has broken through the threshold between life and death — can truly grasp it. It can only be understood within; it cannot be conveyed through words alone. How much each of you can comprehend depends on your own fate and aptitude.”

The children seemed to half-understand and half not, looking more confused than before.

A small girl stumbled forward and drew something from inside her jacket — a dirty, battered piece of flatbread. “Big sister, for you to eat.”

It was the same small girl who had given Qin Nanyin food earlier. In her wet, glistening eyes, faint traces of pale blue drifted now and then like currents beneath the surface.

Qin Nanyin drew a sharp breath. “You —”

The children bowed their heads in tears. “His Third Lordship said she had a measure of potential, and forcibly made her consume Longshen fruit. Even though it was only one month’s worth, she is only five years old. The fruit’s poison has entered her blood and flesh. She likely won’t survive the winter.”

The little girl blinked, seemingly not understanding a word of what had been said, and still held up the dried flatbread with both hands. “Big sister, eat.”

“…Thank you.” Qin Nanyin accepted the bread. “Let big sister trade you Qian Jing in return…”

The field of vision shifted abruptly — to the small girl’s side of the exchange.

[Lin Sui’an suddenly understood: this was Qian Jing’s perspective! This, then, was Qian Jing’s memory!]

“Big sister! No!”

“Without Qian Jing, the poison of the Longshen fruit cannot be suppressed!”

“Big sister, you can’t let go of Qian Jing!”

Qin Nanyin smiled softly. “At this point, whether I have Qian Jing or not makes no difference.” She reached out and gently stroked the small girl’s head. “I never would have expected someone so young to have the strength to receive Qian Jing. What is your name?”

The small girl said: “I don’t have a name.”

“…Is that so… Well — look at all the dense forest here, so full of life and growth. Why don’t you take the surname Lin? As for your given name, choose one yourself.”

“I don’t need a name. I ate the Longshen fruit. I won’t live for many more days.”

“You will. You have Qian Jing now — you will grow up safely, grow up to be an adult, get married, and have children. Your children will grow up healthy — at peace, following their heart’s path… Ah — when you have children, name one Lin Sui’an.”

The small girl was quiet for a moment, then nodded. “All right. I’ll do as big sister says. My child — will be called Lin Sui’an.”

The perspective shifted once more.

Qin Nanyin was clad in black soft armor, astride a black stallion, a six-foot cavalry saber in hand, her back straight as a pine, facing a sky bled crimson by the setting sun.

Yun Zhong Yue gripped her horse’s reins with both hands. “Qin Nanyin — after everything they did to you, your body… your body can no longer hold out for much longer… Why must you still risk your life to protect them?!”

Qin Nanyin lightly patted Yun Zhong Yue’s shoulder. “What I protect is the permanence of our rivers and mountains. What I keep safe is the peace of the common people. It has nothing to do with those great families.”

Yun Zhong Yue’s voice was thick with emotion: “I’ll go with you!”

Qin Nanyin shook her head. “This road has no return. These children of the Jingmen still need you to look after them — they are the future.”

“Qin Nanyin!”

“I am a soldier. The battlefield is the only place a soldier belongs in the end. My brothers are still waiting for me.” Qin Nanyin turned her face to one side. The last light of the setting sun traced the outline of her valiant and beautiful silhouette, and snowflakes fell on the heads of both of them, as if for one brief moment they had grown old together. “Yun Zhong Yue — thank you. And… farewell.”

The last word fell, and Qin Nanyin pulled the reins and urged her horse forward, charging into a sky filled with driving snow. On the wind came the earth-shaking sound of battle cries, and far in the distance, the dark stone walls of Yi City were barely visible — like a general gripping spear and halberd, standing in battered armor, keeping his magnificent and solemn vigil among the undulating peaks.

The world returned to darkness. In the stillness, Lin Sui’an heard the low, quiet crying of a blade — as if weeping.

Then: the gentle scent of fruit-wood. And Hua Yitang’s thunderous voice.

[Lin Sui’an! Lin Sui’an, Lin Sui’an, Lin Sui’an!! Lin Sui’an!!!]

Lin Sui’an let out a sigh and opened her eyes. “Summoning my spirit from the dead? You’re deafening me!”

Hua Yitang’s eyes were brimming with tears. “How are you? Where does it hurt? Head, feet, stomach? Did your wound start bleeding again? Or was there something wrong with the tea Yun Zhong Yue gave you?!”

“My ears hurt because of you.” Lin Sui’an pushed herself upright. Hua Yitang fussed and fluttered, supporting her, as if she were a fragile glass bottle.

Qi Yuansheng and Yun Zhong Yue were staring at her fixedly. Qi Yuansheng’s face had gone even paler, and on Yun Zhong Yue’s silver mask one could practically read the words “deeply worried.”

Lin Sui’an exhaled a long breath. “Yun Zhong Yue — so this mask of yours is actually a family heirloom.”

Yun Zhong Yue was taken aback. “What did you say?!”

Hua Yitang’s eyes went wide. “Could it be that you just now didn’t faint — but rather —”

“I witnessed Qian Jing’s lingering memory.” Lin Sui’an said quietly. “I saw Qin Nanyin and everything that happened here, thirty years ago.”