On the paths, flowers bloom, slowly returning.
Yet no one waits with upturned face and gentle smile in the golden palace and jade towers.
All along the way, flowers bloomed like brocade, splendidly adorning the vast rivers and mountains that now belonged to Qin Chang Ge. The boundless earth was filled with floral fragrance that permeated everyone’s hearts and lungs, but the flower blooming in her heart had already withered long ago.
When she reached Lingzhou within Xiliang’s borders, Qin Chang Ge received an urgent message from her son.
After reading through that letter still filled with many misspelled words, Qin Chang Ge’s gaze slowly fell upon a cluster of white jade hairpin flowers by the roadside. The flowers bloomed pristinely white and delicate, their slender forms drooping slightly over the broad green leaves, like the fingers that had hung down beside the knees of that enchanting man she had seen in the forest of Shanglin Temple three years ago when she was reborn.
His murmur from that night echoed in her ears, so gentle it seemed like a dream one couldn’t bear to shatter.
“I’ve wanted to sleep with you for a long time…”
Yu Zixi.
Actually, I knew long ago that you were involved in this matter.
If you hadn’t been present that night, how could you have snatched away my charred bones? And with your personality, you didn’t like frequenting the palace. For you to appear there at that time, your suspicion could never be cleared no matter what.
The solitary grave at Shanglin confirmed my suspicions about you, but our conversation before that grave also confused me, because I sensed that your heart truly held no hatred toward Ruiyi.
These three years, I constantly watched you. In our ambiguous closeness and distance, I gradually saw some things clearly. I believed in my own feelings, so I never truly hated you. I was even willing to believe in you again.
You are Yu Zixi. You are my old friend of many years. You are the benefactor who saved Xiao Jue and me multiple times on the battlefield. You are the one who always mocked me yet never betrayed me at crucial moments. You didn’t even care about the power struggles that could have caused our friendship to fracture. What reason would you have to kill me?
How could a person betray themselves and strike against a kindred spirit? No matter how wild and unrestrained you are, you wouldn’t sink so low.
Now I finally understand—you were bewitched by her, just like the story Su Xuan once told me. On the ice circle, that dancing woman moved heaven and earth with one dance. His subordinate who was fortunate enough to witness it never married for the rest of his life.
And you also fell into the same demonic obsession.
I believe you must know that she is the Snow-Drinking Goddess, the holy maiden of that mysterious race from the legendary ice circle. Su Xuan was exiled precisely because his eight characters clashed with hers, and Su Xuan ultimately took his revenge.
But the goddess was severely injured before her race was exterminated. That was because she practiced the “Mirror Flower Dance” that no one in my sect had ever chosen to learn. This was martial arts for women to cultivate. For many years, Qian Jue had no female disciples. I, the only female disciple, wasn’t interested in dance. I had thought that martial art would be lost forever, but unexpectedly it still appeared in the world and ultimately harmed me.
That dance is like flowers in a mirror—supremely beautiful yet supremely illusory. It’s said that if one could master it completely, no man or woman among all living beings could avoid becoming intoxicated.
But that dance was considered forbidden by Qian Jue, because it was extremely dangerous to practice. A slight carelessness would lead to qi deviation, causing the practitioner to experience a water-moon mirror-flower illusion.
When you encountered her, she must have already achieved mastery, so you were bewildered by her for life. Just one flying dance shadow on the ice circle forever trapped your soaring heart, forever made you raise the dark sword that shattered the bond of shared blood and death we had maintained for many years.
And she… must have failed at the final moment.
Now only one question remains: why would she know my sect’s martial arts? Qian Jue has few disciples and doesn’t involve itself in worldly affairs. Aside from disciples who leave the mountain gate and can never return, at most there would be one emissary walking in shadows, observing the world’s trends. Qian Jue extremely values sect rules. Anyone from the mountain gate views the sect rules as sacred standards throughout their lives. Even in death, they cannot violate them. Why would she know Qian Jue’s martial arts?
The emissary observing the world travels the mortal realm for at most three years. Under extremely special circumstances, they may take nominal disciples outside the sect, but since Qian Jue’s founding, there has never been such a precedent. Could she be that exception? But what would make her that exception?
Qin Chang Ge gently raised her head, looking toward the east where that deity in people’s hearts had remained silent for many years.
Her expression held slight bewilderment.
She had killed Bai Yuan, yet felt that a deeper abyss appeared before her eyes. The thick fog over Li Sea had been blown away by bloody winds, revealing another mirage hidden among layered clouds.
Qin Chang Ge sighed softly and took the water pouch from her waist to drink. Gazing at the clear water surface, she was suddenly lost in thought again.
That rippling water surface hazily reflected the figure of that man riding toward her that year—flying brows and brilliant eyes, holding a bowl of water in his palm without spilling a drop.
The clatter of those horse hooves seemed close to her ears. It seemed that if she turned around, she could see him approaching with a smile and a clear voice: “Come, drink water!”
A’Jue…
Why did you have to do this?
It was just digging out my eyes after I died. I truly knew about it long ago; I truly never minded.
That day in Xuanchi Palace, within the chaos of the Haotian Formation, I returned to the past. When Ruiyi fell, the door of Changle Palace was gently pushed open, and that tall shadow spread across the floor. I turned back and saw you.
So it was you.
I wasn’t without shock, but I immediately felt relieved. So what if it was you? It merely gave me an answer, letting me understand the reason for your recurring nightmares.
I could even forgive Yu Zixi—what about you?
Yet because of this, I dared not approach you or accept you. A’Jue, for such a long time, I maintained that ambiguous distance with you because I was still afraid. What if you had done other things before digging out the eyes? What if I fell in love with you only to discover you were the greatest culprit?
That would be unbearably cruel.
So I chose to protect myself.
And protect you too.
If you no longer loved me in this life, if we truly became strangers, then when the truth was revealed, perhaps neither of us would be in such pain.
When Consort Shu caused trouble with the bedding matter, I was truly using it as an excuse to explode. I clearly knew that you were probably still suffering from residual poison and had been stimulated by some scene, which led to you bedding her, yet I acted as if I couldn’t forgive you.
But the hardest stance ultimately crumbled and proved no match for your persistent and stubborn heart.
Was this fortune or misfortune?
Actually, toward the end, just as Fei Huan advised me, I had also planned to give up. What’s done is done—it’s all in the past. Why dig up those pains by the roots, tearing open even heavier wounds from my unhealed scars?
However, later on, I gradually became certain that you couldn’t possibly be the true culprit of the entire murder. At most, you were just hypnotized into digging out the eyes.
Yet later on, I also had no choice but to seek revenge—those enemies had already seen me.
Then let it continue.
This journey through endless beacon smoke obscured fate’s final prophecy.
A’Jue.
It was my fault. I should have told you the truth earlier and then said that I didn’t mind.
I was so afraid of hurting you, yet ultimately caused your death because of this.
…The wind scattered the delicate jade hairpin flowers. One was blown up and landed in Qin Chang Ge’s hair—white as jade against her black hair. Qin Chang Ge reached up and carefully pinned that flower properly.
Jue.
This widow wears mourning for you.
Several days later.
Qin Chang Ge sat mounted before the gates of Ying Capital.
Feng Ziguang and Shan Shao had already led the army in triumphant return one step ahead. Su Xuan was presumably also among the troops, escorting those two ice coffins home.
Qin Chang Ge gazed distantly toward the direction of the imperial city. The wind lifted her long hair, spreading out countless threads of pain.
There, the small Crown Prince was leaning against the door waiting. What would come was not the triumphant return of his loved ones, but the coffins of two fathers. How much pain would that small child feel? How much comfort would he need?
There, her beloved would be welcomed into Zhengyang Gate with ten li of white mourning garments, escorted by high ministers, with the entire nation weeping, thousands holding banners, tens of thousands sending off the spirit.
There, her lifelong confidant, that man who had stayed by her side whether in life or death, would be placed in his ice chamber, waiting for Qin Chang Ge to personally escort his coffin back to his homeland. The son of the sea would forever return to that warm deep-sea kingdom.
How much Qin Chang Ge wanted to bury him in Ying Capital, so that this man who never wanted to be far from her could forever see her. But the Li Kingdom’s royal family had a legend that wandering souls of foreign lands must return after death, or they would forever suffer the pain of drifting in the netherworld.
Qin Chang Ge dared not let Fei Huan suffer even one more bit of hardship, even if it was just an illusory legend.
These were all things she was about to do but didn’t want to do, things she didn’t want to do but had to struggle to accomplish.
These were all things that once she struggled to complete, might cause her to completely exhaust the breath she had been holding these days and never be able to rise again.
Qin Chang Ge gazed at the palace city, her eyes filled with endless desolation.
Then she turned her horse around.
She rode away with her back to the palace city.
She went to Sacred Virtue National Protection Temple.
Incense smoke curled in the meditation rooms. The master’s place of closed-door cultivation was filled with kneeling monks, their expressions solemn, murmuring low chants.
Qin Chang Ge stood at the courtyard gate, looking at that simply closed meditation door, her heart tightening slightly—Had I arrived too late?
Someone quietly rose from a meditation cushion and walked slowly forward. Qin Chang Ge looked up to see an old monk with pure eyes and gaunt features.
Master Jingwen, the abbot of Sacred Virtue National Protection Temple.
Placing his palms together slightly, Jingwen said: “The donor has only now come—my master has been waiting for a long time.”
Her eyebrows raised, joy blooming in her eyes. Qin Chang Ge said: “I thought…”
“Today is the appointed day for my master’s sitting transformation. There is still one hour remaining,” Jingwen said calmly. “Please go.”
It was still that familiar meditation room. The clivia bloomed luxuriously, and chicken bones were scattered all over the floor.
Qin Chang Ge pulled out a newly bought roasted chicken from her bosom and laughed: “Hey, old man, hurry up and eat one last time, or there won’t be roasted chicken in heaven.”
Master Shi Yi slowly opened his eyes. The divine light in them was about to scatter, but his expression was exceptionally clear. The faint scent of sandalwood surrounded him, and his monk’s robes moved without wind.
Looking at his face, Qin Chang Ge couldn’t help but feel solemn, thinking that at such a sacred moment, her feigned joking was truly shameless.
Unexpectedly, that old fellow’s first words were still shocking.
“There are peaches of immortality in heaven—they taste better than roasted chicken.”
Qin Chang Ge couldn’t help but smile, then her smile faded as she gently crouched before Shi Yi’s knees and said softly: “You old fellow, will you only tell me the truth when you’re about to die?… He once sought you out. Why wouldn’t you tell me? Don’t you know… if I had known earlier, maybe they all… wouldn’t have died…”
“Foolish girl,” Shi Yi looked at her calmly. “This was originally your own matter. Others cannot interfere arbitrarily, or new variables would arise, creating another new tribulation. How could this old monk dare to rashly move heaven’s will?”
“Then why are you willing to speak now?” Qin Chang Ge glared at him. “You toothless old fellow.”
“Speak? Speak of what? Speaking is not speaking, not speaking is speaking.”
“Die? Die of what? Dying is not dying, not dying is dying.” Qin Chang Ge was furious. “Don’t sit in transformation then, and don’t think about eating any new variety of peaches of immortality. Just stay in the mortal world eating roasted chicken.”
Shi Yi smiled and patted her hair. “No need to be angry. Karmic cycles are but a dream. Jade hairpin flowers bloom, tea flower petals fall, precious halls and golden thrones blood-red as snow, laughing and talking as smoke and dust cut off all sound and appearance. This matter began with you and ends with you. Go.”
He pointed to a box in front of him. “Here are the Nine-Turn Pills I’ve refined throughout my life. Though they cannot truly resurrect the dead, their effects can be called extraordinary. They’re especially beneficial for martial artists—greatly advancing their skills. Your current physical shell is limited by innate constitution and cannot reach the peak. With this, even Sword Immortal Su Xuan would be no match for you.”
Qin Chang Ge took the box and, after thinking, tugged at Shi Yi’s sleeve. “Hey, after you go up, will you have time to visit the underworld? Can you help me change a few people’s life records?”
“Girl, what nonsense are you talking?” Shi Yi smiled. “Life and death are destined. Besides, those few people you mentioned…” He suddenly closed his eyes and said no more.
Qin Chang Ge grabbed him. “Hey, don’t die yet. You haven’t finished talking.”
But Shi Yi only smiled, gently pulling away her hand and pointing eastward. “Go. Follow what’s in your heart and go with peace of mind.”
Golden light suddenly arose in his eyes, deep and vast, enveloping this boundless earth. His sleeve fluttered slightly, drawing a great circle that encompassed heaven and earth.
“In the future… it’s all yours.”
The spring winds of the third month turned the regions north and south of the Huai River green, but could hardly warm the eternally frozen Chi River ice circle.
Qin Chang Ge wrapped herself in heavy fur and cloak, first riding into the frozen earth circle at Chi River’s center, then ahead was a slightly elevated white slope—that was the ice circle where few human traces remained.
Under her guards’ protection, Qin Chang Ge traveled by snow sled, then dismissed her guards outside the ice circle and slowly stepped off the sled.
Pulling her collar tight, the snow-white fur around her collar fluttered around her face in the icy wind, slightly tickling. Qin Chang Ge raised her face, looking at the exceptionally blue and distant sky above the ice circle, wondering if the youth who had been driven by fate to stop here many years ago had stood in this very position and seen the scene that would captivate his heart for life, forever following the abyss of unrequited love.
Qin Chang Ge tightened her clothing. She had thoughtfully bound a piece of fire dragon hide to herself—this was the heart-skin of an extremely rare small beast from the ice circle that was very difficult to catch. When worn on the human body, it could resist severe cold. With such a piece bound to her heart, at the very least, no matter how cold it got, she wouldn’t freeze to death.
She slowly walked alone down that white slope outside the ice circle. The deeper she went, the more intense the cold became. Soon even her eyebrows and lashes were covered with frost flowers. The frozen earth beneath her feet was entirely white, but looking carefully, it wasn’t ice and snow. Qin Chang Ge dared not touch it with her hands—if warm hands touched that extremely low-temperature soil, they would probably stick immediately, tearing off a layer of skin when pulled away.
The ice circle was very large and empty of people, sleeping peacefully under the azure sky canopy. Qin Chang Ge’s figure soon became a tiny black dot on the vast white canvas.
The wind gradually grew stronger, swirling and wandering in the ice circle. When it hit her face, it was like a murderous cold blade. Fortunately, Qin Chang Ge had protected herself thoroughly from head to toe, or such fierce wind would have drawn blood on her face after just a few strikes.
Qin Chang Ge rubbed her face through her felt hat, and her hand suddenly stopped.
Ahead, there were faintly two sitting figures in meditation poses.
Qin Chang Ge was startled—hadn’t it been said that the ice circle was actually uninhabited long ago? Su Xuan should have already exterminated the Snow-Drinking clan.
Walking forward a few steps and seeing clearly what it was, Qin Chang Ge suddenly stopped.
It was a low mountain with ice pillars rising from the ground in front of it, looking like a small stage—an irregular rectangle with a smooth, crystal-clear ice surface. Within the ice pillars sat a man and woman with eyes closed in meditation poses.
Yu Zixi and the Snow-Drinking Goddess.
Both appeared lifelike.
Through the bright ice surface, she could see that man still clad in brilliant red as before, gorgeous and enchanting, his black pearl-lustrous hair falling and flowing over one shoulder like water. His slightly upturned brows traced delicate arcs, and his lips curved slightly upward, as if holding an eternally mysterious smile.
Qin Chang Ge stared at him blankly, remembering that youth under the blood moon years ago, his black hair caught at those lips, charging through ten thousand troops on horseback.
He raised his arm, holding his three-foot blade high, gleaming with snow-bright cold light, standing straight in that blood-red full moon behind him.
Those vivid colors of that year—white as snow-jade, red as demon moon, black surpassing the darkest night—were they now to be forever frozen in this thousand-year glacier?
In a trance, it was again that morning when he crossed the frost on the stone bridge. In the stream, under sunlight, the red-robed youth washing his feet turned back. At that moment, the water stopped flowing and sunlight stood still, with enchanting fragrance drifting in the autumn wind.
Or perhaps on that long street under everyone’s gaze, playfully blocking his soft lips. Those lips would preserve their vivid color forever, never fading, but what kind of secretly painful memorial would this method of preservation leave for those who continued forward?
…Reclining by the solitary grave at Shanglin Temple, swirling smoke and light before the drums at the mountain’s foot, sharp retorts at Jin’ou Palace, entangling difficulties at the academy gates, reluctant male-female role reversals at Ducheng’s pleasure quarters, a heavenly song at Li Denglong’s inner palace, lace underwear presented at the grand ceremony in Dayi Hall, drinking strong liquor on crystal ice in the back garden of Prince Jing’an’s mansion, grandly playing funeral music for the extermination of wolves at the foot of Shang Mountain, then planning to eat it…
Qin Chang Ge suddenly smiled slightly through her tears.
Light and shadow danced before her eyes, red robes fluttering. Hazily it seemed he still leaned against the glacier in an enchanting pose, raising pale fingers, his bewitching lips curling slightly as he said with a smile: “…Death is like smoke extinguishing. What use are graves and coffins? They’re just empty formalities. Rather than rotting in filthy mud, better to choose a good place to end oneself. Like this dog—I think it would be willing to be eaten by me. Like myself—I want to die in ice and snow, frozen in thousand-year ice layers, never decaying, forever preserving my beauty. How wonderful?”
Yu Zixi.
Is this your final choice?
After completing that last most satisfying deed, after thoroughly dealing with those damn officials who never got along with you in life, you finally no longer had to bear such heavy guilt and hopeless waiting, and did what you most wanted to do.
Your beauty is eternal, and she will forever accompany you by your side.
This life’s heart’s desire has been fulfilled, hasn’t it?
Taking a step back, Qin Chang Ge bowed three times to Yu Zixi.
The first bow thanked him for many years of loyalty and repeated rescues. Without Yu Zixi, Ruiyi and Xiao Jue would have long since turned to bone and ash, and there would have been no chance for him to kill again, forever bearing eternal guilt.
The second bow thanked him for clearly recognizing her yet remaining silent, whether during the Changle incident or after her rebirth, doing his utmost under helpless circumstances to make amends for the consequences.
The third bow thanked him for not betraying her trust at the end, protecting Rong’er.
As for those errors committed against his will under helplessness, even if the consequences were severe, even if they brought disaster to the world, let them all pass.
After all, wasn’t he also a victim?
Zixi, sleeping for thousands and tens of thousands of years like this, perhaps one day you might awaken again—beautiful eyes reopening, charm reappearing, toppling all beings with a light smile and gentle frown?
…But I hope for such a day.
The sky gradually darkened. The wind, which had been like ice blades before, now felt like ice hammers. Qin Chang Ge tightened her cloak once more, her gaze falling on the Snow-Drinking Goddess beside Yu Zixi.
Regarding this woman, though she was indeed incomparably beautiful, she truly felt no fondness for her. If not for her practicing the forbidden dance, why would Yu Zixi have thrown away his life, and why would she have been indirectly harmed?
However, as her gaze swept over, it suddenly fell on the goddess’s waist.
She wore very little, completely in the style of rainbow dance garments, just as Su Xuan had described from his subordinate’s account years ago. Her snow-white, slender waist was barely graspable, tied only with colorful rainbow pearl strings. Among those red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet flowing lights, a hint of bright red was faintly visible on the left side of her waist, looking like a flying butterfly.
Qin Chang Ge unconsciously reached to touch her own right waist, then halfway through the motion realized that this body was no longer Ruiyi’s. That identical butterfly-shaped red mole on Ruiyi’s right waist had long since turned to ash, whether on Shang Mountain’s peak, at Shanglin’s foot, or in that little Eastern Yan girl’s urn.
An identical mole… there were no such coincidences in the world.
Qin Chang Ge’s gaze slowly moved upward, carefully examining the goddess’s face. Her features were exquisite, her complexion surpassing snow. Though her head was bowed with eyes closed, one could still sense her exceptional beauty—truly magnificent and radiant, with the bearing of a goddess from Gushe. One could imagine that when her eyes opened, her beauty would surely be overwhelming. If she then danced like a startling swan, captivating souls would be perfectly reasonable.
But she didn’t particularly resemble Ruiyi.
Qin Chang Ge circled the ice pillar once, her confusion unresolved. Suddenly she noticed a section of mountain rock behind the ice pillar that looked somewhat strange. She felt it lightly with her hand, then pushed down forcefully.
An ice door slowly opened.
Looking deeply at that door, Qin Chang Ge remembered that both Su Xuan and Rong’er’s accounts had mentioned that the goddess’s dance had momentarily disappeared. Now it seemed there was another secret passage. Qin Chang Ge examined the secret passage door and found traces of human activity. The passage had probably been quite hidden back then, so neither Su Xuan’s subordinate nor Yu Zixi had discovered it. After all these years, both Su Xuan and Bai Yuan had come here later, so naturally it was no longer mysterious.
Pushing open the ice door and proceeding forward, this seemed like the belly of that low mountain, but there was no stuffy feeling, clearly indicating air circulation. Qin Chang Ge carried a luminous pearl, cupping it in her hands. The pearl’s light illuminated about a zhang’s radius of ground ahead, still the same frozen earth as before, but the deeper she went, the softer the soil became. Other than this, there were no anomalies.
After walking for about a quarter hour, light faintly appeared ahead—another doorway. Pushing it open, wind rushed toward her, but not the face-cutting ice wind from before.
Ahead was actually a hidden valley, filled with evergreen pines and cypresses, four-season evergreens covered with thatched houses arranged in orderly fashion, with crisscrossing paths and quite a pastoral atmosphere. If not for the empty lack of people, one would almost expect to see an old farmer leading an ox up from the fields after plowing.
However, this wasn’t truly a village—if it was, it was already a dead village. Qin Chang Ge walked forward a few steps and felt the temperature here. Though it didn’t have the bone-chilling cold of the ice circle, it was still quite cold, but those evergreen trees created an illusion of spring.
This was probably the main base of that mysterious Snow-Drinking race from the ice circle, wasn’t it?
Qin Chang Ge’s gaze slowly swept over the entire valley’s housing layout, and suddenly she felt a strange sensation in her heart. Though this was clearly her first time setting foot here, she felt an inexplicable pull and familiarity in her heart. Strange feelings surged in her blood, as if returning to some place that connected her soul. She didn’t need guidance to find the path in and out.
She tentatively walked forward a few steps and suddenly saw smoke curling up from a thatched house ahead.
Feeling somewhat eerie—hadn’t the Snow-Drinking clan already been exterminated? How could there still be someone living here?
Qin Chang Ge approached that thatched house and stood at the threshold, very politely knocking.
“Excuse me, is anyone there?”
A person looked up in bewilderment from behind the smoke-billowing stove, covering her mouth and coughing, her face full of wood chips and soot. Her beautiful brows and eyes were faintly visible. She wiped away the soot, looking even more blackened as she stared at Qin Chang Ge.
Qin Chang Ge was even more surprised than she was. Wasn’t this Yu Zixi’s “sister,” Princess Luo Xiang of Xiang Commandery?
Her gaze traveled from those mud-and-ash-covered hands slowly up to that soot-covered face. This woman who had always lived in gold and jade luxury, this delicate beauty who had lived under Yu Zixi’s protection without knowing worldly worries, now lived alone in this otherworldly empty valley, using hands accustomed to holding golden and silver jade chopsticks to carry firewood, using a body accustomed to silk and satin to wear coarse cloth and simple hairpins—for what reason?
Another person suffering for love…
Luo Xiang was also staring blankly at Qin Chang Ge. At this time, Qin Chang Ge had resumed Ming Shuang’s appearance, so she naturally didn’t recognize her and couldn’t imagine that someone could enter this mysterious world behind the ice circle and find this thatched house.
Smiling at this girl, Qin Chang Ge saw deep pain and confusion in her eyes. Not wanting to continue hiding her identity, she said calmly: “Luo Xiang, I am Qin Chang Ge.”
Her body shook, and Luo Xiang instinctively dropped the firewood in her hands to bow. Qin Chang Ge raised her hand slightly. “In this valley, you are no longer Princess Xiang, and I am no longer Ruiyi. We are both just people who have come to seek or accompany old friends.”
Luo Xiang looked up at her. Just this one sentence had already filled her eyes with tears. Qin Chang Ge gazed at her and said slowly: “Are you… going to accompany him here for life? Even though the person by his side will never be you?”
Luo Xiang’s tears rolled down like pearls, but she stubbornly held her head high, pressing her lips together without speaking. After a long while, she said hoarsely: “Your Majesty is like a heavenly being, understanding everything clearly. There’s no need to ask about Luo Xiang’s small plans.”
Qin Chang Ge smiled bitterly, looking up at the door lintel with its old curtains. “Understanding everything clearly? It would be better for people to remain confused… Luo Xiang, in matters of love, only those involved truly understand. I won’t interfere with your choice, but can you tell me how you and he met?”
Luo Xiang gently stood up. At this moment, her eyes rippled slightly, like a bird flying across an empty mountain, stirring transparent traces of wind. Those beautiful memories of first meeting and love at first sight from years ago created beautiful empty flowers in such traces, scattering in the long wind.
“I was someone Bai Yuan placed beside His Majesty. Like Qing Shadai, I was sent to His Majesty’s and His Highness’s sides by Bai Yuan through various means.”
“Qing Shadai’s appearance took advantage of His Majesty’s kind heart and pity for fallen heroes, while I used a face similar to his young sister to approach him, exploiting his urgent desire to find family members after all these years… However, I think I never truly fooled His Highness.”
She turned her head toward the direction of the ice pillar, saying calmly: “From the moment I reached his side, I became a golden bird in a cage, pampered into a sheltered princess who never left her chambers. At first I was anxious, but later I wasn’t anxious anymore. As long as I could stay by his side, that was enough. As for my mission, let me fail to complete it. The State Teacher was far away in Eastern Yan—to kill someone in Prince Jing’an’s mansion, the State Teacher would have to come personally, but he wouldn’t come.”
“…He protected me very well. I knew it was for the sake of this face, but that was fine too. At least I had something that would make him willing to look at me one more time, didn’t I?” Luo Xiang turned back to Qin Chang Ge with a gentle smile, her expression actually carrying some shy charm.
Qin Chang Ge closed her eyes, unable to respond. These romantic entanglements, cycling endlessly without beginning or end, were nothing but momentary sparks that ultimately set ablaze those green fields.
What remained was only a stretch of pale ashes. Next year’s spring wind would still come, next year’s drums and konghou would still sound melodiously, but it would never again be that earth-shaking music from the original magnificent scene.
And that person who could make the entire audience gasp in amazement with one smile and strum of strings, wordless yet fully displaying elegance, would never come again.
“…One final question.” After a very long time, Qin Chang Ge said: “In the beginning, when Bai Yuan was allowed to escape, you were also there, weren’t you? That red-clothed Yu Zixi who rushed out from the big boat and ‘struck down’ Bai Yuan was actually you, correct?”
Looking at Qin Chang Ge, Luo Xiang slowly revealed a smile. “…He truly was a very clever person… Actually, that day at the lake bottom, we had already sent people to dig an underwater secret passage from the reed marsh. Then he and Bai Yuan’s ‘fake corpse’ were hidden in the sedan chair the whole time, while I entered the sedan under everyone’s gaze. We were dressed identically. Halfway through, at turns and blind spots, he slipped out to hide that fake corpse by the secret passage in the reed marsh then returned to the sedan. I slipped onto the boat, put on his red robe over my yellow clothes, pretended to be him striking down Bai Yuan, then jumped into the water and rushed back. He was just ‘coming up for air’ then, and when we switched places, he went underwater and appeared beside Bai Yuan’s fake corpse. When your people arrived, they saw him and Bai Yuan’s fake corpse, while our sedan chair had someone in it from beginning to end. Our silhouettes were extremely similar—through the sedan curtain, it was impossible to tell us apart.”
“Why wasn’t it Yu Zixi who struck down Bai Yuan while you provided underwater support?” Qin Chang Ge frowned in thought. “It could have been completely reversed.”
“Because he never felt assured about me. After Bai Yuan went underwater, someone needed to assist when switching the corpses. If I had been the one assisting, he feared I would take the opportunity to secretly wound Bai Yuan. Moreover, his swimming wasn’t as good as mine—he might not have been able to reach the secret passage in time. Your people came really fast. If we hadn’t dug an extremely hidden passage with the shortest straight-line distance, we might have truly been discovered. I had to swim extremely fast because of this and dropped something.”
“Was it this?” Qin Chang Ge opened her palm, revealing that small jade vial Chu Feihuan had found originally. Turning it upside down, heavy snow began to fall. “He gave it to you, didn’t he?”
Luo Xiang looked delighted and was about to take it, then suddenly felt it inappropriate and timidly withdrew her hand, looking pleadingly at Qin Chang Ge.
Qin Chang Ge slowly handed the jade vial over with a faint smile. “Keep it… There’s still a long, lonely road ahead… Without something to remember by, how would you endure those unchanging sunrises and sunsets?”
Coming out of the thatched house, Qin Chang Ge looked around once and went directly into the most spacious tile-roofed house.
The house was furnished ordinarily, only having one more altar-like thing than the other houses. The painting that had originally been enshrined on the altar was somehow splattered with bloodstains, making it impossible to see what was originally painted. Qin Chang Ge pushed open the inner room door. It was furnished as plainly as a snow cave, with only a bronze mirror on the dressing table, faintly revealing it to be a woman’s boudoir—probably the Snow-Drinking Goddess’s residence.
Behind the dressing table was a faint secret door. Qin Chang Ge opened it without difficulty. Inside was a gold-decorated box with an extremely intricate lock, though in Qin Chang Ge’s hands, it only took an extra quarter hour.
Her fingers remained very steady, but her eyes held some deep, obscure darkness.
“Click”—the box lid opened.
A faint fragrance escaped—the scent of time sealed away for years, precipitated through long ages.
At the bottom of the box was a sheet of paper, slightly yellowed and brittle with age. Under the paper were two pairs of extremely delicate small shoes, probably only suitable for infants to wear. One could still faintly see they were pale yellow, one pair embroidered with a flying butterfly on the left, one pair embroidered with a flying butterfly on the right.
The paper read: Renxu year, Yisi month, Gengzi day, Guiwei hour.
Below was another line of small characters: That night, twin stars shone upon the moon, blessed with twin births. Joy? Or sorrow?
Joy? Or sorrow?
Qin Chang Ge stared intently at that paper, at those familiar birth characters, as if she wanted to bore a deep hole through that thin, brittle sheet.
A very long time later, there was a soft “pat.”
The yellowed paper gradually absorbed a spot of moisture, penetrating that paper surface that had already suffered time’s erosion and could no longer withstand any slight destruction, creating a black hole like an eye quietly gazing through from the depths of sealed years with god-like fateful understanding.
At the end of the third month in the sixth year of Qian Yuan, reining in her horse in the warm golden wind, ahead stood the Emerald Heaven Sacred Mountain that had towered for a thousand years.
Qin Chang Ge gazed entranced at the sacred mountain—lush and green at its base, wreathed in clouds and mist halfway up, with an unreachable peak—the world’s greatest sacred mountain. She slowly extended her hand in a pushing gesture.
Push open, push open the solemn gates of the sacred place in worldly eyes; push open, push open certain secrets sealed in time that could not be touched by mortals.
Even if that pushing motion required using springs of blood reaching her knees to surge forward.
Once she stepped onto the sacred mountain today, it would surely be a life-or-death situation. Qian Jue Sect had always treasured its reputation and strictly upheld sect rules. Disciples who descended the mountain, except for reconnaissance emissaries, were forever forbidden from returning to the mountain gate. If they came back, just stepping one foot past the mountain’s base would be considered betraying the sect, forever becoming abandoned disciples of Qian Jue.
Qin Chang Ge revealed a cold smile. The Qian Jue sect rules had another provision: anyone from Qian Jue must never personally slaughter fellow sect members. She wondered if this rule still applied now.
Looking back at the urgently mobilized armies of Youping and the two provinces behind her, they stretched like a black dragon for dozens of li. Just that one glance brought forth overwhelming killing intent and military might.
Once again raising her head to look at that place that reached high into the heavens, that sacred place in her heart from the past, that place where she had grown up, learned her arts, remained loyal to, believed in, and for which she had labored and worked tirelessly throughout her life until death.
Did that moon over the broken bridge still forever shroud itself in mist? Like certain hidden, dark schemes.
“Actually, we are all destroyed by those we believe in and follow.”
Bai Yuan, I understood your final truth in life, but I never wanted to believe it, until Shi Yi pointed east and said to me, “Go.” Only then did I confirm with ice-cold certainty that most cruel fact in the world.
Why, why, why?
Qin Chang Ge slowly extended her hand—curving, cupping… but her fingers caught only emptiness in the flowing wind. Those most beautiful memories she had once possessed had long weathered away in time’s crevices, turning into tears that never ceased in the depths of her heart.
…If there hadn’t been that carefully designed death, there wouldn’t have been Fei Huan dying young from serious illness, wouldn’t have been Xiao Jue shot with arrows in shame, wouldn’t have been Yu Zixi frozen for a thousand years in lifelong guilt, wouldn’t have been Qin Chang Ge tormented by fate through loss and recovery, gain and loss again until her heart died.
From Xiao Chen to Yu Zixi, from Yu Zixi to Bai Yuan, layer upon layer of truth was followed by layer upon layer of mystery. At the end of the mist, whose hand parted the thick clouds, revealing fate’s iron-blue, cold countenance?
The great dream is boundless—who stands on the other shore?
Master.
Today I come with a heart full of doubt and resentment, seeking an answer, not hesitating to attack the mountain gate.
I only want to ask one question.
Why?