After putting away Baozi’s “family letter,” Qin Chang Ge stirred the fire and looked thoughtfully at Qi Fan, who was talking with Rong Xiaotian by another fire.
Xiao Jue, however, had always been direct in front of her, asking quite straightforwardly: “Chang Ge, tell me, is this subordinate of yours from Nanmin or Zhongchuan?”
Looking up, giving him an expression that said “so you’re not stupid after all,” Qin Chang Ge said lightly: “You also noticed Qi Fan’s strange expression when he mentioned the bell birds? When we ate the divine birds, he was grief-stricken, so he’s apparently also among the bird-worshipping crowd. But I’ll wait for him to tell me himself.”
Leaning against a tree, she said with an expression between smiling and not: “Among the three heroes of Huang Meng, I met Feihuan first. Qi Fan and Xiaotian I encountered in Dezhou, when they were meddling in other people’s business but were outmatched and being chased around like frightened rats. I don’t like to meddle, and originally didn’t want to get involved, but Qi Fan played a little trick that changed my mind. I appreciated his quick thinking and saved them. At that time they didn’t immediately follow me. Later, through coincidental meetings, after several setbacks and several rescues by me, they finally resigned themselves to becoming my subordinates. In all these years, I’ve never asked about their origins—Huang Meng has a principle: we don’t use our own power to investigate our own people.”
She smiled and said: “Trust those you employ, don’t employ those you don’t trust. Qi Fan and the others weren’t my confidants from the moment they entered Huang Meng, but once they truly become my confidants, then they are genuine confidants.”
As she spoke of her first meeting with Qi Fan, what floated in her mind was many years ago, that morning when autumn waters flowed abundantly and white dew formed frost. Along the water’s edge, reeds bloomed luxuriantly. A young man stood among the great expanse of flying reed flowers, those white spirits quietly slipping into his sky-blue sleeves. He gently flicked his sleeve in a graceful, floating gesture.
That year, a sixteen-year-old girl stopped her horse on the shore, gazing from afar at the young man’s back. Though she had many urgent matters to attend to, somehow, watching that back—young and silent, beautiful and desolate—standing so lonely by the water’s edge, in the bottom of the wind, so untouchable in its pure indifference, her thoughts began to churn. She remembered when her eldest senior brother had brought her young self into the Qianjue Sect. That day too had been a deep autumn day when cool air and reed flowers fell like snow, and for a moment she was lost in reverie.
Then she saw that young man step by step into the water.
She was startled.
But she had no thought of rescue—she had always felt that living was both the simplest and most difficult thing, but something a person must do themselves. If someone didn’t even have the courage to live, there was no need to interfere. Those who easily abandoned themselves shouldn’t blame the world for abandoning them.
She folded her sleeves, with a thoroughness and coldness no ordinary young girl would possess, watching the young man walk step by step toward the center of the lake.
That figure never looked back, seeming to have no attachment to the mortal world, but when nearly reaching the lake’s center, he suddenly made a gesture as if catching reed flowers.
In the azure lake water, autumn sunlight gilded the lake with countless points of gold. In that golden light, the young man’s wet black hair draped over his thin shoulders. He raised his head, his outstretched palm crystalline as jade, that reed flower drifting between him and heaven like a celestial maiden’s dance.
The young girl’s heart suddenly stirred.
…That year, the young child had rested halfway on her journey, drinking cool water by the riverbank. Reed flowers floated into the water, making drinking inconvenient. She frowned, and her eldest senior brother stood behind her, saying indifferently: “The water in the middle of the river has no reed flowers. The water there is clean—go drink it.”
She looked back blankly and asked: “Why don’t you help me get it? I’ll drown.”
“Disciples of Qianjue are responsible for themselves their entire lives, and can never depend on others.” Her eldest senior brother’s expression was calm. “If you are the one sent down the mountain in the future, then your life will be full of dangers and endless troubles. You are destined to become a leader of others, destined to face and solve countless sufferings yourself. So from now on, you must learn to strive for yourself.”
With a flick of his sleeve, he pushed her into the water, shouting: “Go get the water!”
She stumbled and gulped down much cold water. The icy lake water nearly submerged her completely. Unable to swim, she immediately felt suffocated, her chest about to burst with pain. As her vision darkened and she was about to sink, she desperately thought of how others swam, desperately flailing her arms and legs. Then, after struggling for who knows how long, her vision brightened, light returned, cool air rushed into her nostrils—she was safely in the center of the water.
She vaguely heard from the shore her eldest senior brother’s eternally unchanging calm voice: “Disciples of Qianjue take defending the world as their mission, take defending our sect’s honor and inheritance as their mission. All who enter must be one in ten thousand rare talents, and must undergo ten trials—congratulations, little junior sister, you have passed the first trial.”
Floating in the lake water, at that moment she suddenly felt a chill in her heart, thinking: this is the first trial, this is only the first trial. If she couldn’t pass this trial, then just now, would she have died silently in the lake?
Certainly, she would have.
The small girl stood in the lake, not knowing whether the lake water was cold or her heart was colder. She kept shivering. The autumn sunlight cast her shadow on the water surface—a tiny, lonely segment. Her heart felt empty and confused as she thought—why am I alone? Where are the people? Where are those who love me? Where are those warm embraces that wouldn’t let me sink in the lake water?
Who delivered me to the world, and who delivered the world to me?
…Many, many years later, the girl child who had undergone ten life-and-death trials finally became that generation’s savior, became this moment’s young woman who stood with arms folded, coldly watching a life walk toward extinction.
Yet at this moment, watching that young man walk step by step toward the lake’s center, it was as if seeing the girl child who had once struggled step by step toward the lake’s center. Seeing his figure stopping in the lake center to catch reed flowers, it was as if seeing the silent, bewildered girl child who had once floated in the lake center.
She saw her struggle, tears streaming down her face in the moment she was about to drown. She saw her surface from the water with no joy of survival, only the desolation of foreseeing the heavy burdens she would thereafter bear.
She suddenly very much wanted to save her.
That child struggling in the lake water, accepting the fate she had no choice but to accept.
She flew up, a flash of snow-light in mid-air, her posture graceful like a proud goose that refused to yield to fate yet remained loyal to her own vows.
She was even thinking that after returning to the capital, should she go find that demon and learn his infinitely charming, fire-like brilliant smile? How much she hoped that her not-so-warm self could have something radiating warmth to warm Feihuan, who was as cold as snow…
Xiao Jue suddenly stood up and strode away.
It wasn’t jealousy, it wasn’t anger—he simply suddenly felt he should leave.
Those two people’s exchanged smiles, clearly both bright and beautiful, without shadows, each more open than the other, yet for some reason, waves of heartache kept washing over him.
He could no longer continue smiling warmly, could no longer act as if nothing was wrong while blocking his gaze.
From his selfish heart, he didn’t want to leave Chang Ge for even a moment. He had sworn to win Chang Ge, and throughout her two lifetimes, he had always believed that no matter what position his “romantic rival” held in her heart, no matter how excellent this rival was or how much he pleased her, he must use all his efforts to completely win her back.
Yet seeing Chu Feihuan’s smile, he suddenly had thoughts of yielding, at least at this moment—he didn’t want to disturb his gaze upon her.
Chang Ge wasn’t an object—he had no right to yield her. He would still go back and strive hard, because this was what he considered the greatest respect and love he could give her.
But right now, in this faintly melancholy atmosphere, having felt that person’s weak and intermittent pulse, if he still insisted on staying there, even he would find himself despicable and cruel.
If they still couldn’t obtain the Treading Fragrance Garan, Chu Feihuan’s time might truly be running short.
Xiao Jue leaped into a tree, gazing distantly toward Nanmin’s central capital… The moonlight was hazy, illuminating no clear path ahead. In the faint mountain forest mist, his straight back was like a sword with resolute departure.
…He must obtain the Treading Fragrance Garan, save him, fight for more time, so everyone could have no worries, no sadness, and love happily and magnificently!
“Nanmin is covered with deep mountains and teeming with demons. Only here at Yilan is there a passage. To reach Nanmin’s central capital Xuandi Palace in the shortest time, we can’t avoid the Shui family. Since we can’t avoid them, let’s confront them head-on.” Qin Chang Ge flicked her fingers, suggesting as casually as discussing the weather.
Xiao Jue immediately agreed: “Good, very good. He’s keeping my sword for me—I need to get it back too.”
Glancing at the face-saving emperor, Qin Chang Ge was too lazy to expose him. Qi Fan had already said: “The Shui family is powerful, and now they’re in their closed valley period with everything around sealed off. We’re short-handed—how do we confront them?”
“Didn’t you mobilize all available Huang Meng subordinates from the borders of Zhongchuan, Nanmin, and Xiliang?” Qin Chang Ge glanced at Qi Fan. “Don’t tell me those people aren’t people.”
Qi Fan broke out in cold sweat, thinking this woman was getting more and more terrifying—how did she know about his mobilizing subordinates? Meanwhile, Rong Xiaotian was already frowning: “But compared to the Shui family, it’s still insufficient. Moreover, Yilan Valley’s location is mysterious. I’m afraid while we’re still looking for where the door is, they’ve already prepared traps waiting for us to stumble into.”
Chu Feihuan, who had been silent, suddenly said softly: “The old family head’s death.”
His strength was insufficient, so he only said half a sentence, but both Qin Chang Ge and Xiao Jue’s eyes lit up. Qin Chang Ge smiled knowingly and gently: “Don’t reveal a single word about the Shui family’s succession struggle. Just say the old family head died. Look, the prestigious Shui family, the highly respected old family head who was revered throughout the world has passed away. All those who have received the Shui family’s favors, who want to curry favor with the Shui family, who want to build connections, who need their help, and so on and so forth—shouldn’t they all come to offer condolences?”
“You’re truly devious,” Xiao Jue used a completely non-complimentary term to express his sincere admiration for Qin Chang Ge, clapping his hands: “A prestigious family, after all—there’s absolutely no reason to turn away well-meaning people who come to pay respects and offer condolences. When the time comes, martial arts figures will flow in like tides, and we too… ahahaha.”
In the sixth year of Chenghe of Nanmin’s Dayan Dynasty, something finally occurred in the historically peaceful martial arts world of Nanmin that was significant enough to shake Nanmin’s political situation. This shocking news gradually spread on an unpredictable winter day and propagated at extremely fast speed throughout the martial arts world—the passing of Shui Yingqi, old family head of the prestigious family that had long dominated southern Min and had lasting influence on both Nanmin’s political situation and martial arts world.
The death of those in power presaged rolling storms and approaching tempests. When news of the death spread, Nanmin’s Dayan King An Tianqing sent envoys to offer sacrifices, and Grand Priest Yin Li also dispatched Ban Yan, the Heaven Envoy among the three supreme envoys of the Holy Altar, to offer condolences.
Nanmin had a special political system. Though the dynasty existed, it had no real power and was merely decorative. All governmental authority was held entirely by the Grand Priest, which related to the Nanmin King’s special background. Supposedly, An Tianqing had depended on others since childhood, suffering much bullying, fortunately with a disabled household servant always following and protecting him. Later, when An Tianqing rose from humble beginnings, this servant displayed increasingly strong political and military talents, helping him win this territory. Only then did everyone realize this servant’s extraordinary origins—he was actually a descendant of the mysterious great Chichi clan that had been exterminated by the former Yuan’s tyrannical rule in Nanmin territory. Later, when Nanmin was established, the servant Yin Cai, who had single-handedly established Nanmin’s territory, became Grand Priest. Yin Cai was extremely capable, fierce and domineering, and deeply understood religion’s control over people’s hearts. He rebuilt the Chichi Holy Religion, enjoying nationwide incense as a holy teacher. The overlapping of political and religious dual powers was extremely formidable. Though Nanmin was clearly a dual-ruler system, government gradually tilted toward him alone, while An Tianqing became increasingly absurd and unruly, neglecting governmental affairs. Everyone had always thought An Tianqing would eventually die at Yin Cai’s hands, but unexpectedly Yin Cai died early due to old illness. The succeeding Grand Priest Yin Li was obsessed with martial arts and poison magic, having no great ambition for government, which allowed him and An Tianqing to coexist peacefully, with everyone living well.
When Qin Chang Ge and Xiao Jue had once discussed An Tianqing’s non-involvement in government, discussing how everyone thought he would die but it was Yin Cai instead, they had both praised An Tianqing’s ability to endure, saying he was definitely not an incompetent ruler—it was just that worldly people were too dull, lacking politicians’ sharp vision, unable to see clearly through the illusory mist shrouding Nanmin’s political situation.
Court envoys and holy altar envoys had many ceremonial matters to attend to, so naturally they wouldn’t arrive quickly. Conversely, martial arts figures almost immediately rushed toward Yilan. Among them, the most notable was the leader of the world’s greatest sect, also known as the world’s number one person—Su Xuan.
“Su Xuan has come too!” Qin Chang Ge looked at Huang Meng’s secret report with delight. “This fellow runs fast.”
Xiao Jue muttered beside her: “Really has face… much more than I do. Upon hearing he was coming, Yilan Valley already sent people twenty li out of the valley to welcome him. They’re probably preparing to open the valley.”
“If you revealed your identity, forget Yilan Valley—even Xuandi Palace’s Dayan Palace would immediately send out three thousand iron armor and ten thousand jin of heavy locks to ‘invite’ you over,” Qin Chang Ge glanced at him sideways. “Would you like to try?”
Xiao Jue smiled carelessly: “If you revealed your identity, I’m afraid your treatment wouldn’t be lower than mine. Supposedly in the minds of various countries’ leadership, your reputation is somewhat worse than mine.”
Qin Chang Ge smiled in praise: “Your tongue is getting sharper.” Looking at the rough layout map of Yilan Valley on the table, she said: “With heavyweight figures arriving, the valley must open even if it doesn’t want to. Besides, Shui Jingchen knows Su Xuan has been to Yilan Valley before. Would he really wait until someone knocks on your door? Haha, A’Jue, we have another good show to watch.”
She looked toward Yilan’s direction with a grin, her fingers lightly tapping the table as she said in a low voice: “Shui Jingchen, aren’t you tired of being a good person? Destroying the world is much more satisfying than saving it. I’ll give you a chance—let’s compete to see who’s more devious.”
In winter of the sixth year of Chenghe of Nanmin’s Dayan Dynasty, the world’s storms and human heroes, due to someone’s deliberate manipulation, gathered in the sky above Yilan Valley’s beautiful and mysterious valley floor.
The death of old family head Shui made Yilan Valley, which had always been hidden behind the world’s reverent gazes, the focus of attention. For days countless prominent martial arts figures had rushed here, packing Jing Mountain where Yilan Valley was located. People clutched seemingly accurate valley location maps bought from information dealers specializing in martial arts news, wandering around everywhere. When tired of searching, they slept in trees. Mornings they often woke covered in bird droppings—the angry birds whose homes had been occupied used this method to welcome the martial arts heroes in advance.
Important figures set up tents, waiting for Yilan to open the valley. Life of sleeping rough wasn’t pleasant—some had complaints and were very puzzled why the Shui family even refused mourners at their door. But the prestigious family’s reputation was too good with too many fans, so everyone feared angering the crowd and could only maintain silence for now.
“Shui Jingchen is probably still consulting with his advisors on how to respond, or investigating who leaked the news,” Qin Chang Ge, who had also set up a tent mixing among the martial arts figures, grinned as she lifted the tent flap to peer toward the only road ahead. She was waiting for Su Xuan.
“Who do you think will receive Su Xuan?” Qi Fan propped his chin thoughtfully. “It should be quite an important task…”
His tone was drawn out with an ambiguous expression. Chu Feihuan, who had been lying against his pillow lost in thought, also smiled faintly.
“He’s coming!”
“He’s coming, he’s coming!”
The crowd outside suddenly became noisy. Countless figures sprang from the tents under trees, faces full of envy as they looked toward the road ahead.
At the road’s end, dust rolled as dozens of riders galloped forth. The horses were magnificent, the people bold—all in red clothes with black sashes, with agile bearing. They dismounted in unison, formed ranks in two lines like wild geese, bowed toward the southwest, and thundered in unison: “Blazing Flame Su Xuan, humbly bearing meager offerings, specially comes to your esteemed valley to personally sacrifice before old family head Shui’s spirit tablet. Please announce us!”
This was the mountain-visiting ceremony. Everyone looked back bewildered, wondering how to accept the visiting card since there wasn’t even a person from Yilan Valley present. Suddenly they heard a rumbling sound, with continuous echoes from the southwest side. Then from behind heavy vines, two columns of young men also walked out—in green clothes and plain colors, wearing white sashes to show mourning. They approached with calm bearing. The leading youth made a refined bow and smiled: “Our entire valley has received the sect leader’s kindness—we are deeply grateful. Please.”
He received the visiting card with both hands, then greeted each of the present martial arts grandees from various places, repeatedly apologizing that due to the family head’s death and numerous chaotic affairs, etiquette was inadequate and distinguished guests were neglected. His bearing was peaceful and dignified, his words cultured and elegant, his handling of people completely orderly—a true great family’s style. People couldn’t help but secretly praise: truly worthy of being a “prestigious” family!
After the meetings concluded, they heard loud hoofbeats ahead. Blazing Flame subordinates all solemnly turned toward the incoming road. Everyone couldn’t help but fall silent. Many Nanmin locals had never seen the world’s number one person’s style and couldn’t help stretching their necks to look.
In the tent, Qin Chang Ge quietly said to Xiao Jue: “Su Xuan is deliberately making a grand mountain visit, forcing the Shui family to open the valley gates wide and let all these miscellaneous people enter together. This truly pleases my heart.”
Xiao Jue immediately gave her a sensitive glance, seriously considering whether Qin Chang Ge’s last few words were literal or had deeper meaning. After thinking, he felt Qin Chang Ge wouldn’t be having romantic thoughts at this time, so he relaxed.
In the complete silence.
One rider came galloping on the wind. Against Nanmin’s winter background of deep emerald colors, the white-clothed figure on horseback had robes flying in the wind with elegant bearing. His skin was fair and radiant, his long hair and dark eyes black as ink. With one raised eyebrow, he embodied a scene of resounding martial arts storms.
Everyone held their breath in silence, solemnly gazing up at that undisputed world’s number one, spirited and magnificent, arriving as if stepping on clouds.
But then came a woman’s voice, clear as silver bells, crisp like dew drops falling from the freshest flower petals on a clear spring morning, laughing brightly: “Su Xuan, you’re only coming to see me now!”