The secret passage had not yet opened, but from somewhere unknown came a gentle breeze that swirled close to the water’s surface, creating delicate whirlpools that reminded one, vaguely and faintly, of that departed child who once possessed the most brilliant dimples in the world.

In the wind, Su Xuan held the cold body of the woman in his arms, his expression instantly becoming utterly empty.

In the wind, the founding empress who had always looked down upon the world with disdain and never bowed her head, for the first time in her life, deeply bent forward because of anguish.

Her bowing posture was difficult and painful.

Like a gesture of atonement.

Su Xuan slowly raised his eyes and looked at Qin Chang Ge. There was no expression in his gaze – his pupils were dark as a deep prison that never saw daylight. He held Shui Linghuai and slowly walked around Qin Chang Ge.

His advancing steps were somewhat unsteady. Xiao Jue at Qin Chang Ge’s side instinctively wanted to support his shoulder, but withdrew his hand just as he was about to touch him.

Let him… be alone in quiet…

Xiao Jue watched his retreating figure – heavy yet floating, making one feel that if touched carelessly, it would immediately shatter into a thousand pieces and completely collapse.

How long, how very long would it take to struggle out of this deep water that had submerged all joy in the mortal world?

Xiao Jue sighed deeply. He too was someone who had suffered through pain. The Changle Yaohuo had once burned away three years of his happiness. He understood Su Xuan’s current feelings better than anyone, and moreover, Su Xuan likely carried an additional burden of self-blame and guilt – “I did not kill her, yet she died because of me.”

And also… Chang Ge.

Worriedly supporting Qin Chang Ge, Xiao Jue carefully observed her expression. Chang Ge had lived a life of sharp judgment and ruthless decisiveness, yet she had never harmed the innocent or wronged anyone’s heart. However, today’s events…

No one was at fault, yet great wrong was done.

How fate plays with people, to such an extent.

The sound of water flowed endlessly, never knowing human sorrow.

Su Xuan carried Shui Linghuai slowly to shore, ascending several steps to another bronze lamp fashioned in the shape of a young girl holding a basin.

In the basin, there was indeed a circular hole. Earlier, at the other end of the passage, Shui Linghuai had inserted her finger into such a hole, thereby losing both her finger and her life.

Xiao Jue and Qin Chang Ge immediately reached out their hands simultaneously, but Su Xuan resolutely brushed them away. His force was so great that he knocked Qin Chang Ge off balance. Xiao Jue quickly reached out to steady her and sighed deeply, silently stepping back.

Su Xuan inserted his finger into the circular hole and gently hooked it. With a thunderous rumble, what had appeared to be merely a mountain wall suddenly revealed a doorway that slowly opened.

Qin Chang Ge stared at Su Xuan’s hand.

No blood flowed out.

Su Xuan slowly withdrew his hand – his finger was completely intact. He seemed somewhat regretful as he gazed at his unmarked hand, staring blankly in a daze.

Qin Chang Ge looked back at the end of the dark waterway, at that Shui family secret chamber that could no longer be seen. What kind of harm had been designed into that door-opening mechanism to punish Shui family descendants who unauthorized revealed the ancestral resting place would forever remain a mystery, accompanying that girl’s eternal slumber, forever sunk, never to be solved.

Qin Chang Ge could only roughly guess that it was a blood sacrifice mechanism – blood gushed forth, accumulated to a certain level, triggered the spring to open the hidden door, with excess blood flowing out from the stone frog’s mouth.

And Shui Linghuai’s initial hesitation stemmed from her unusual constitution – what would be merely a severed limb’s wound for others became a fatal cut for her. Qin Chang Ge deeply hated herself for not thinking of it – that some people cannot afford to bleed.

The hidden door opened, and fresh air along with the overwhelming emerald green from outside rushed in at once. Those bright colors and sensations were like what that child had given people, yet never again in this life could she be so vivid, never again in this life could they see that little girl who loved to wear emerald green, crimson red, bright yellow, and pure white, keeping her colors clearly defined.

Her vividness ended in that stretch of sunless deep water.

Did she foresee the ending’s desolation and grayness, so in those sixteen years she desperately pursued dazzling brightness?

Su Xuan slowly raised his head, facing that ray of sunlight from where the hidden door opened, seeming to squint in pain.

The brilliant sunlight pressed toward him. In the sunlight, someone was smiling radiantly at him… Su Xuan, you owe me a little bell… you owe, you owe, you owe…

When she spoke of bells, she always added the diminutive “er” sound, her tongue slightly curled, sounding delicate and exquisite, as if she herself were a beautiful bell ringing everywhere.

Such a vibrant woman, the woman who had entered his life with clear, crisp ringing – how could she have become the cold, fragile body now in his arms?

Su Xuan reached out his hand, gently blocking that ray of bright yellow sunlight.

He murmured: “I’ll repay…”

Beside him, Qin Chang Ge trembled slightly. She silently pressed her lips tightly together, gazing grimly at the deep green mountains beyond the hidden door that had already far exceeded the borders of Yilan.

Some collapses cannot recover, some ruins cannot be rebuilt.

Taking a deep breath, Qin Chang Ge resolutely stepped outside the door and forcefully pulled Su Xuan, who had been standing motionless, out with her.

Xiao Jue very tacitly walked last, blocking the path back – both he and Qin Chang Ge feared that Su Xuan would close the hidden door after they emerged and stay forever in the dark passage to accompany Shui Linghuai.

Su Xuan stood beneath the bright sun and long wind, unmoving, not advancing.

His usually straight and tall figure, with the elegant bearing of a young aristocrat in black robes from the Five Mausoleums, now seemed slightly hunched from the heavy burden he carried.

Qin Chang Ge turned to look at him. Her expression was haggard and pained yet had regained calm composure. She stared coldly into Su Xuan’s eyes and said softly: “…Su Xuan, I know you’re in great pain. I know you feel you’ve wronged her. I feel the same. Before her, we are both sinners, and my sin is even heavier than yours.”

Su Xuan looked up at her.

His gaze was also like deep water, with endless waves churning at the bottom, each surge a painful scar.

“I clearly saw her difficulty. I clearly knew she would face hardship on this journey. I clearly understood that unauthorized opening the ancestral tomb would bring punishment upon her. But for everyone’s escape, for my own selfish heart, I pretended not to know. I deceived myself and others, thinking that a little punishment wouldn’t cost her life.”

Qin Chang Ge looked deeply at Shui Linghuai, using her only mobile hand to gently caress her cold face, saying word by word: “It was I who killed her.”

Su Xuan’s hand trembled. Pain flashed in Xiao Jue’s eyes. Just as he was about to speak, Qin Chang Ge continued: “But Su Xuan, I will not give my life to her because of my mistake, because my life would be useless to her, and she would never want to see you blame yourself and grieve, wasting your entire life in dejection.”

She lifted her face, her eyes gleaming like crystal jewels, reflecting brilliant light in the warm winter sunlight of Nanmin: “Su Xuan, the one Linghuai loved was you – the one who broke through three barriers in a single night’s intrusion into Yilan Valley; the one who laughed loudly while destroying her bell atop Shang Mountain, even saying he would beat her; the one who stood above the mediocre masses of the martial world, looking down upon all under heaven with laughter at the changing winds and clouds.”

“If you want her to smile peacefully in the afterlife, if you want to remember her forever in the way she most desired.”

“Please, continue to be that original you – the one she deeply loved and worshipped, the one she loved with her entire life.”

Su Xuan remained silent for a long time.

He stood tall in the wind. The wind’s sound was like neighing horses, like flowing water.

Many years ago, a young woman waiting on horseback at a street corner – beneath her reined horse, a neigh awakened his consciousness from near death. Her face looking down with indifference was like a brilliant and luminous flower, illuminating the dark years of his remaining life.

Many years later, under the flowing waters of Yilan’s secret passage, the woman’s smile bloomed in the faint light of bronze lamps. She had drawn close to him, then gently departed, taking away forever some warmth from the depths of his heart.

In this world, what is gained and lost, what is drunk and eaten, seems to follow heaven’s will.

Cold and cyclical heaven’s will.

After a long while, Su Xuan slightly raised his head toward the clouds above, toward that distant, approaching, seemingly real yet illusory smile, and smiled faintly.

He said: “Rest assured, I understand.”

Turning to face Qin Chang Ge, he said calmly: “I apologize that I cannot accompany you to find Fei Huan. I must first find her a place she would like to rest.”

Looking deeply into his gaze, after a long moment, Qin Chang Ge said: “Very well.”

Su Xuan spoke no more, carrying Shui Linghuai and resolutely departing. His snow-white figure quickly disappeared into the emerald forest. In his arms, the woman’s flowing black hair fluttered like silk in the wind, as if she were still alive.

Qin Chang Ge and Xiao Jue watched him leave. In the rustling fallen leaves and long wind, sorrow and grief of parting rose in their hearts.

Those sorrows that could never be made whole in this lifetime ultimately could not earn fate’s merciful backward glance.

Ban Yan had departed at some unknown time.

Qin Chang Ge did not want to concern herself with her whereabouts – as long as she lived, she would certainly not spare Shui Jingchen. If not for the fact that Shui Jingchen was Linghuai’s third brother, Qin Chang Ge actually would have preferred to kill him herself first. Now with Ban Yan present, that was even better.

The two great forces of Nanmin’s Xuanchi Palace and Yilan Valley had always barely maintained surface peace. Now they had finally torn away the facade, making a collision inevitable.

Qin Chang Ge planned to take advantage of the chaos to obtain the Taxiang Jialan, then return to her country to organize the army. When both sides had fought to mutual destruction, she would clean up Nanmin.

For this journey to Nanmin that had brought both heartbreak and physical injury, if she didn’t get some interest back, she would truly be depressed enough to spit blood.

Surveying the terrain around them, Qin Chang Ge determined they had actually reached the outer mountain range of Yilan. In other words, Fei Huan should now be far behind them.

The two no longer hesitated. Xiao Jue grabbed her hand and they rushed toward where Fei Huan had originally been waiting for them outside the valley.

The journey was quite far and the terrain complex. Unfamiliar with the direction, the two actually circled for nearly a day and night before finding the correct path. When they finally could see the familiar place in the distance – with their eyesight they could already make out the scene outside the valley – Qin Chang Ge’s steps faltered.

No one was there anymore. The valley entrance had collapsed, and the area outside the valley naturally suffered impact as well. Trees and ground were smashed to pieces. Those erected tents had long been crushed under falling rubble beyond recognition. The disciples from various families who had been waiting outside the valley had scattered like birds and beasts when disaster struck.

Qin Chang Ge rushed over with her heart in her throat, circling around the location where Chu Fei Huan and the others’ tent had been. There were no people there either. The tent lay in fragments under the rubble, with only a broken corner showing. Qin Chang Ge slowly lifted those corners, fearing she might see scattered bloodstains and mangled limbs.

Fortunately, there was nothing – nothing at all. The blanket Fei Huan had wrapped himself in before leaving was also pressed under the tent. Qin Chang Ge pulled it out and examined it carefully – no bloodstains.

She breathed a long sigh of relief – thank goodness, thank goodness Fei Huan had not, like during the Youzhou riots, chosen to give up hope of survival to wait for her in the original location.

Xiao Jue also relaxed, laughing: “Probably they avoided this place and camped somewhere safe…”

Qin Chang Ge’s expression suddenly changed.

She didn’t even have time to give a greeting before taking off running.

Xiao Jue didn’t understand why but followed her, only to see she was running toward the direction of the precarious stone mountain at the valley entrance. After thinking about it, his expression also changed.

While running, they faintly smelled a strange, choking odor approaching. Xiao Jue exclaimed: “Seems like gunpowder?”

Qin Chang Ge ran even faster. In the distance, she could see beneath the chaotic stone mountain, at a section near the edge where the rubble was smaller, a pile of black gunpowder had been accumulated. Long fuses extended from the bottom of the gunpowder pile. Several figures could be vaguely seen around the pile, apparently calculating positions and distances, seemingly arguing about something.

From their silhouettes, they were precisely Qi Fan, Rong Xiaotian, and Chu Fei Huan.

The three were arguing, seemingly unwilling to yield about something. Chu Fei Huan suddenly moved his sleeve.

Immediately, Qi Fan and Rong Xiaotian collapsed.

Then Chu Fei Huan gestured for his subordinate helpers to drag the two far away.

He raised his head to look at the menacingly piled stone mountain. From this distance, his facial expression was unclear, but his movements showed no hesitation. With a flick of his finger, a tinderbox appeared between his fingers, and a cluster of bright red flame danced to life.

Qin Chang Ge’s vision went dark – Fei Huan was going to blast open the passage! But this wasn’t a fixed, intact stone mountain – this was all loose rubble. One miscalculation and the rubble would collapse, crushing him first!

The chance of success was one percent!

No, Fei Huan wouldn’t be so foolish. How could he not know the consequences of such action?

Why would he do this?

But there was no time to think about anything else – only to desperately run. Qin Chang Ge began coughing. Massive wind struck her like iron plates. As chest pain hit, Qin Chang Ge’s mind suddenly cleared, understanding Chu Fei Huan’s intent.

The valley had collapsed with earth-shaking violence of tremendous magnitude. Anyone would think those inside had no chance of survival.

With such degree of destruction, the longer time passed, the less hope remained. With their martial arts skills, if alive, given Yilan’s distance, they should have emerged long ago. Since they still hadn’t appeared by now, no one dared think positively anymore.

Fei Huan had waited until despair.

So he chose the most resolute way to rescue.

The stone mountain was impassable. With his already disabled limbs, he couldn’t possibly cross it.

Then, blast it.

If he could blast open a passage, he might still gain her a thread of survival.

If not, then he would die with her.

Unwilling to live alone.

…

With a great shout, Xiao Jue also saw through Chu Fei Huan’s intent. Both were desperately running, but their current states were terrible. Not only were both exhausted, but Xiao Jue had injured his meridians the moment he exerted force to chop the cliff. Without rest all along the way, his left arm grew increasingly painful, affecting both his balance and speed. Qin Chang Ge was now also half-disabled. Originally, because of her light body, she had always excelled at lightness skills and should have been faster than Xiao Jue. Running out first now, she was only a step ahead.

The collapse within Yilan still hadn’t completely ceased. Rumbling sounds continued incessantly. Even speaking face-to-face required shouting. Though the two desperately called out, none could hear anyone but themselves.

Chu Fei Huan gazed absently toward the mountain, slowly bending down to reach for the fuse.

Qin Chang Ge was so anxious she was about to spit blood.

She suddenly turned back toward Xiao Jue and said: “Both our bodies are unbalanced – we’re running too slowly. I’m light-bodied – send me forward!”

Xiao Jue looked with heartache at her dust-covered, wounded form, but said nothing except gritting his teeth: “Good!”

He charged forward with all his might, swinging out his single arm to grab the bottom of Qin Chang Ge’s feet, shouting: “Rise!”

Qin Chang Ge, using her full strength, immediately flew out like a light cloud.

Chu Fei Huan’s fingertip flame flickered, instantly touching the fuse!

Qin Chang Ge flew forward!

The fuse ignited instantly, sparks hissing and retreating!

Qin Chang Ge unfurled her black silk in mid-air with a snap!

The fuse quickly burned more than half, leaving only a palm’s length!

Chu Fei Huan raised his head, his expression resolute.

“Snap!”

A black shadow flashed, striking down hard!

The sparks immediately weakened.

“Bang!”

A body hit the ground heavily, boldly smashing onto the ground fire line, then rolling hard to extinguish the last spark.

In the rising dust, someone was coughing incessantly.

In the rising dust, Chu Fei Huan slowly widened his eyes that had been filled with bloodshot lines for two days and nights.

In the rising dust, that human projectile slowly raised her head. Her disheveled face showed only a pair of eyes, black and white distinctly clear. She kept coughing but was always smiling.

She smiled and said: “Fei Huan, let’s both choose not to die.”

In the winter of the sixth year of the Chenghe era of Nanmin’s Dayu Dynasty, a simple funeral ceremony claimed the lives of most of Nanmin’s martial arts elite, achieving both the death and rebirth of the century-old great clan Yilan. Those who boldly trampled the ruins of the old clan beneath their feet, leaving the past far behind, ambitiously planned to start anew. The new Valley Master of Yilan, Shui Jinglan, openly told the martial arts figures from across the land who came to inquire at the old Valley Master’s funeral ceremony that the Shui family had never received Xuanchi Palace’s envoy Ban Yan or any of the martial arts heroes they mentioned, and that the Shui family had waited outside the valley for a long time but never found anyone.

These words came from the mouth of the sage Shui Jingchen. No one thought to doubt them. After the ceremony, Shui Jingchen invited the guests to a banquet. While casually sipping tea, a few words immediately made people associate Ban Yan’s identity with the Grand Priest of Xuanchi Palace’s strange behavior. Compared to the brilliant and glorious Yilan, the sinister and deep Xuanchi Palace naturally had a much worse reputation. Immediately the crowd’s anger rose, and the assembled heroes were indignant. The royal envoy, who had happened to be received by the Shui family from a hundred li away, was also present. Everyone turned to request the envoy uphold justice. After the envoy sent a letter reporting to the court, the dynasty, which already harbored resentment toward Xuanchi Palace, immediately “dispatched personnel to Xuantan to inquire about the disappearance of innocent persons.” At the same time, the Shui family proclaimed to the world – these martial artists had died at the hands of villains while coming to pay respects to the old family head. The Shui family bore inescapable responsibility and would certainly assist the court with their modest strength to seek justice for the heroes of the world.

Thus, from a funeral incident, the three-way balance of power that had existed in Nanmin for many years was broken. The Shui family, which had always been powerful yet observed worldly affairs from the sidelines without participating in human affairs, made this statement. The facade of surface peace that Nanmin’s political situation had maintained was immediately torn apart. With this backing, the Dayu Palace’s “dispatched inquiry” immediately increased those personnel to tens of thousands of troops. At the same time, the Shui family’s “Yilan Snow Armor Guard” moved out simultaneously. This iron guard of Yilan, famous only in legend, finally appeared before the martial arts world in a stern and formidable posture after the new family head assumed power.

Of course, amid the clamorous calls for opposition to Xuanchi Palace, some dissenting voices also appeared. For example, in Chiyan City, thirty li from Nanmin’s Youhuo Marsh where Xuanchi Palace was located, a half-mad beggar who usually loved to boast while picking lice said to another beggar scraping dirt next to him: “What seeking justice? What disappearance? What upholding righteousness? It’s all fucking nonsense! I think they saw the Grand Priest Yin is at a crucial moment practicing divine skills in seclusion and came to take advantage of the fire!”

Unfortunately, the voices of small people were destined to be drowned by the angry tide of righteousness. Those discordant notes floating in the air instantly became like dust and dirt, trampled underfoot by the advancing steps without a trace.

At most, the dirt-scraping beggar would sneer and reply: “What business is it of yours!”

However, things always change strangely. Just as the martial arts world and court forces gathered at Youhuo Marsh, demanding Grand Priest Yin give an answer and hand over envoy Ban Yan, and the angry Grand Priest defiantly refused to comply, the somewhat disheveled Ban Yan suddenly appeared with an eerie air. Half ghostly, half beautiful, Ban Yan immediately suppressed the noisy crowd with her Heavenly Demon Sound Kill, especially targeting the Snow Armor Guard and court personnel. Above Youhuo Marsh, her long hair flying as she shrieked piercingly, in an instant hundreds lay dead, forcing the crowd into stunned silence.

In the momentary quiet, Ban Yan spoke clearly and unhurriedly, explaining word by word the Shui family’s various schemes – building plank roads openly while secretly crossing at Chencang, destroying Yilan to start anew elsewhere, and maliciously framing others.

The crowd erupted in clamor.

Amid the clamor, the distinguished Shui Jingchen remained unmoved, smiling as usual, only gently asking: “Is there evidence?”

Ban Yan naturally had no evidence. With all Yilan’s buildings destroyed, who could point at that pile of ruins and say it was Yilan? Who would believe the Shui family had gone mad and destroyed their century-old foundation? Moreover, everyone had just come through “Yilan” valley, seeing those pavilions and towers, the magnificent buildings that were clearly constructed over many years – how could they be built overnight? Absurd, truly absurd!

Ban Yan remained calm, quietly watching the angry crowd that felt deceived. Her expression was surprisingly similar to Shui Jingchen’s trademark – sorrowful and gentle. She only looked at Shui Jingchen and softly asked: “Linghuai is dead. Do you know?”

Linghuai is dead.

Do you know?

No one knew what expression Shui Jingchen had facing only Ban Yan before the crowd. That momentary change like rippling water was seen only by Ban Yan.

This was the last conversation between Xuanchi Palace and the Shui family.

After that, war erupted.

Facing the siege, Youhuo Marsh displayed the fierce power it had accumulated over many years. Grand Priest Yin never appeared – naturally the three upper emissaries presided over the situation, with Ban Yan as the undisputed leader.

Facing the surging besieging crowd, she only slowly arranged her long hair, fully exposing her face, completely ignoring the ten thousand gasps of shock, and slowly said: “Things must ultimately have a resolution.”

From then on, this mysterious woman who had rarely appeared in the martial arts world displayed her shocking power before the world for the first time. For three days and nights, she never moved a step from her position high on a cliff of Youhuo Marsh, using the unique terrain of Youhuo Marsh – demonic fog, ghostly fire, swamps, myriad serpents, sound killing – with layer upon layer of killing methods that rose like all things living, like surging waves, she blocked wave after wave of attacks from the Nanmin court and Shui family, while dispatching people to cut off roads and block the Nanmin court’s reinforcements outside Youhuo Marsh. The Heaven, Earth, Human upper three emissaries and Wind, Thunder, Lightning lower three emissaries each led Xuantan guards to defend one direction. Youhuo Marsh became a Shura killing field where three forces desperately strangled each other.

For three days and nights, blood obscured the sun, bones piled into mountains. The perpetually dark red soil and rocks of Youhuo Marsh turned deep red. The sky was constantly shrouded in misty blood-colored fog that, seen from afar, surpassed bright clouds in its demonic beauty like fire.

For three days and nights, battle cries soared to the clouds, shattering continuous mountain ranges. Ten thousand birds flew in panic, their black wings covering the sky that changed color with wind and clouds.

Those clamors carrying death’s final notes and flying blood and fire, trailing the long sounds of clashing weapons, traveled far from Youhuo Marsh.

Yet they could not reach certain quiet and secluded corners.

Those dying roars and triumphant laughter, those miserable moans of the nearly dead under trampling feet, shattered the hearts and souls of their enemies.

Yet they could not shatter those several pairs of forever bright and calm eyes.

Whose glory comes from ten thousand bones’ decay?

In winter of the sixth year of Chenghe, late December, there was a slight chill in the wind.

Behind Youhuo Marsh, in a sunken mountain area, several men dressed as traveling merchants squinted at the winding, hidden small path before them, their eyes showing appraising intent. After a while, a lean man turned and asked a beggar-dressed person beside him: “This is the place?”

The beggar who loved to boast and pick lice in temples, who had never had anyone seriously listen to his words in his entire life, showed no surprise or honored delight at this moment. He looked at the path with complex emotions, and after a long while, nodded.

In that instant, the expression in his eyes was distant and vast, infinitely meaningful. In that instant, he no longer seemed like a destitute beggar of Chiyan City, but like someone who had once commanded wind and clouds, possessed countless honors as a person above people. That former prosperity and glory, the churning winds and clouds all flashed rapidly through his gaze, reflecting three thousand worldly splendors.

He smiled and pointed toward the path, saying in a low voice: “This is a secret even Yin Li doesn’t know… From here, it leads directly to Xuanchi Palace, because the exit is right at Xuanchi Palace’s Xuantian Great Formation. For many years no one has entered, so it’s never been discovered. If you want to go this way, you’ll definitely trigger the formation when you emerge.” He suddenly frowned and turned his head, looking at the several plainly dressed men before him, his gaze especially lingering on that weak and disabled man, saying: “Actually this is equivalent to a dead end too. Are you certain you want to go? Why not wait until the battle ahead has results…”

“Who knows how long it’ll take to finish? Who knows what the result will be? Crossing through the battlefield isn’t as good as taking the small path.” The man smiled carelessly. “Don’t worry.”

He raised his head, looking at the blood-fog-shrouded sky ahead, a trace of cold smile flashing in his eyes.

“Yin Li, practice your skills obediently – you won’t need to trouble yourself with receiving me.”