The top of Lishan Mountain was covered in white snow, yet Li Chaoyang’s clothes seemed even whiter than the ice and snow.
She hadn’t taken a carriage today, but stood quietly under a snow-laden tree with her hands behind her back, lost in thought.
Xiaofeng Li stood far away in the snow field gnawing on grass roots. Suddenly sensing movement, it raised its head and saw Lie Yunhua descending silently.
“…Qianqiao.”
Li Chaoyang’s voice was very low and hollow as she called his name once and turned around, her pitch-black eyes meeting his.
Lu Qianqiao walked all the way up to her and slowly knelt down: “Mother.”
She seemed very satisfied with how he looked now. Her face, cold as ice and snow, showed an unprecedented trace of a smile, though it vanished instantly.
“Worthy of being Li Chaoyang’s son.”
When he failed his transformation, she had been extremely disappointed, barely restraining her killing intent as she returned to the clan, even planning to forget she had such an only son. For the War Ghost clan, her age of forty-five wasn’t considered old—remarrying and bearing another pure-blooded child wouldn’t be difficult. The clan elders often advised her to remarry a well-matched pure-blooded War Ghost. Previously she had ignored such suggestions, but after Lu Qianqiao’s failed transformation, she had to seriously consider the matter.
But… he was still her and his child, and he finally hadn’t disappointed her.
“Not just mine, but also Lu Jingran’s.”
Lu Qianqiao stood up, his voice indifferent.
Li Chaoyang didn’t get angry, only stared at him steadily: “You already know—it was I who killed the entire Lu family. Your father died last, and I watched him breathe his final breath in my hands.”
She had met Lu Jingran at seventeen and loved him desperately. At eighteen, she withstood all the heavy pressure from her clan and married him. At twenty, she gave birth to Lu Qianqiao—a family of three, very complete, very beautiful.
But she never learned to say those sweet and warm words, couldn’t mend his shoes, socks, and clothes, couldn’t prepare meals for him, couldn’t play with her own child. On battlefields and in crises, she could give up her own life to protect the man she loved, but in peaceful, mundane daily life, she couldn’t do anything—she wasn’t the good wife he had in mind.
Lu Jingran had always doubted her love. Normal women weren’t like her—perhaps she could never be a normal woman.
Later, at twenty-five, she began her transformation tribulation and awakened as a perfect War Ghost body, rarely seen in a century.
When she wielded her square-bladed halberd and bloodily slaughtered the entire Lu family, Lu Jingran stood beneath the blood-stained walls, smiling at her strangely.
Such a strange smile—warm yet sad, suddenly understanding yet relieved.
She still couldn’t forget it, even though she could barely remember the sorrow of killing him, but she couldn’t forget that smile.
[It’s alright, come here.] he had said, opening his arms as if to embrace her like before. [Chaoyang, give me a quick end, let me be free.]
He only wanted freedom.
The square-bladed halberd complied with his wish, tearing through flesh and piercing his body, pinning his entire form to the wall.
She held his head in both hands, watching him die in her grasp, not understanding the vague pain in her heart.
He was free, and she was free too. Returning to the clan, with the powerful strength of a perfect War Ghost, she elevated the Li clan’s status considerably. The old Emperor of Qiong Kingdom had heard of the War Ghosts’ fearsome reputation—though he confiscated Lu Jingran’s property, he never dared seek her out. It wasn’t until the new Emperor ascended and cleared Lu Jingran’s name, probably wanting to win her over, that he granted her the title of Noble Consort and also summoned the then thirteen-year-old Lu Qianqiao, giving him the rank of Cavalry General. At fifteen, when he distinguished himself in battle, he was promoted to Cavalry General.
She had killed the man she loved and had also considered killing that man’s son with her—a mixed-blood War Ghost had little hope of surviving the transformation tribulation, let alone becoming a perfect War Ghost.
But she couldn’t bring herself to do it, not even understanding why.
Perhaps because Qianqiao’s nose resembled that man’s? His occasional expressions resembled that man’s? Was she… regretting killing him?
The clan elders often proposed finding her another marriage match, sending marriage proposals that she filed away one by one.
For the sake of reviving the War Ghost clan, she could do anything—logically, she should agree to marriage. Marrying a pure-blooded War Ghost and bearing several pure-blooded children was what she should do most.
But she couldn’t.
She just couldn’t, without reason or justification.
“I once thought of killing that girl.” Li Chaoyang turned with her hands behind her back and walked slowly forward. “But Qianqiao, you’re stronger than me—you didn’t act. Honestly, I don’t want to see such a thing again either, so I won’t move against her or the Imperial Tomb.”
Killing one’s beloved was enough for once. She couldn’t give her child with him supreme happiness, but she also didn’t want him to experience her loneliness. As an unworthy mother, this was all she could do.
“However, my not acting doesn’t mean I’ll permit your willful behavior.” She stopped and turned back, her eyes already blood-red.
“I gave you and her, plus that troublesome Fox monk, more than half a month. I won’t give you anything more—not even one day. You must return to the clan with me. Whether you see her is your business, whether you preserve this marriage is also your business. But you must return. The Fox clan has been truly detestable lately—I can no longer tolerate them and must find a way to destroy them.”
Mere furry beasts daring to claim they were descendants of heavenly gods, even spreading word that the War Ghost clan had served the heavenly gods since ancient times, so they should rightfully submit and serve the Fox clan.
War Ghosts feared no provocation and would tolerate no provocation.
Lu Qianqiao had remained silent throughout, and the hand gripping his long whip slowly relaxed.
He had thought perhaps they would fight earth-shakingly, either she would die or he would. He had also thought she would fly into a rage at the mention of Lu Jingran’s name.
But he hadn’t expected things to develop this way.
Li Chaoyang’s profile was bathed in the red glow of the setting sun. He couldn’t read the expression on her face—was it regret? Relief? Or… something else?
Turning around, he gazed quietly at the gradually setting sun on the horizon. The setting sun was molten gold, the clouds stained with blood, and he thought of Xin Mei’s carefree, smiling face.
The egg-yolk-like sun finally sank down. Xin Mei stood at the cliff’s edge, rubbing her cold hands together.
Had Lu Qianqiao come late today, or had she arrived too early? There wasn’t a single figure on the opposite cliff. She was afraid the food in the box would get cold—though she had layered charcoal inside, it would still cool if too much time passed, and cold tofu Xin Mei wouldn’t taste very good!
Poor Qiuyue had been pushed hard by her constant urging to rush to Changgeng Pass, and now it was so tired that it curled up in a ball to sleep as soon as it landed, impossible to wake up.
Cold wind mixed with remnant snow swept over the cliff’s edge. Xin Mei was so cold she couldn’t stand it and had to jump around.
This was ridiculous—Lu Qianqiao hadn’t come, and that faceless fake monk from the Fox clan wasn’t coming either. As the sky grew darker, Changgeng Pass was bright with fires, and the aroma of various dishes and delicacies mixed with the soldiers’ laughter and conversation. She was both cold and hungry, and finally couldn’t bear it anymore, so she cupped her hands around her mouth and began the ancient and practical tactic—shouting at the top of her lungs.
“Lu Qianqiao—! How are you late again—?”
No one answered her, no one came.
“Lu Qianqiao—!”
She called again.
Suddenly there was the sound of a horse’s long neigh overhead. Xin Mei quickly looked up and saw the long-missed Xiaofeng Li with its four hooves treading on thunder and lightning, high above. The white-clothed woman on horseback seemed… seemed to be her not-so-pleasant-tempered mother-in-law!
She whooshed into the bushes, faster than a rabbit.
Was she here to kill her? Scold her? Break them up? Or… or something else she didn’t know about?
The War Ghost Noble Consort on horseback didn’t look at her, didn’t dismount, and didn’t speak. She only dropped a palm-sized object that landed right at Xin Mei’s feet with a crisp sound.
It was an ancient bronze plaque covered in verdigris, carved with ancient and simple patterns.
Xin Mei carefully looked up at her, then down at the plaque, cautiously picking it up, not understanding what her mother-in-law meant.
“Gate key.”
Li Chaoyang said four words concisely, fully explaining the bronze plaque’s function.
What gate? Before Xin Mei could ask clearly, Xiaofeng Li neighed once and turned to run away, leaving her bewildered and crouched in the bushes, unsure whether to pursue or not.
“Xin Mei.”
From the opposite cliff, Lu Qianqiao’s voice finally rang out. Xin Mei rolled out in a rush, but saw that unlike before, he wasn’t here with loose hair in a pre-sleep state.
He wore a black cloak, his hair neatly bound, the long whip at his waist, and most importantly—he was actually riding Lie Yunhua!
“Lu Qianqiao… are you, are you leaving?”
She was stunned.
Lu Qianqiao looked at her deeply. Today she wore a light yellow silk dress that seemed rather thin. The cliff was swept by cold winds, her cheeks blown rosy red, her lips somewhat pale.
Silently removing his cloak, he tossed it over, and it landed perfectly on her shoulders.
“…Go back early. Don’t catch cold.”
The cloak was large and long, carrying his warmth and scent. Xin Mei instinctively wrapped it tighter around herself, still asking in confusion: “You’re leaving? Where to?”
“I’m returning to the clan.” He glanced at the bronze plaque in her hand, hesitating. “That’s the gate key… this way when you come to the clan, no one will stop or hurt you. But… you’d better not come.”
She no longer cared about gate keys or door keys.
“Why… why so suddenly going back?”
So there would be no more cliff-side meetings? She had specially made tofu Xin Mei today… and wore a newly made silk dress… she still hadn’t been able to touch his thin hands and face…
“There are some matters in the clan.”
He gazed at her quietly, such familiar eyes—that kind she couldn’t understand, that breathless stare.
Xin Mei thought: “Then when can you come back?”
Silence. He finally spoke: “Perhaps… it will be a long time.”
“How long is a long time? A month? Half a year? Or a year?”
“…I don’t know.”
“Then can you come back once a month? I’ll wait for you at the Imperial Tomb.”
He looked at her for a very long time, longer than all previous silences combined, so long that she thought he wouldn’t speak. Suddenly he said: “…Alright, I’ll try.”
Xin Mei gradually smiled, suddenly remembering something. She pulled out the crumpled letter Manager Zhao had given her from her sleeve and waved it at him: “You must come back! Everyone is waiting for you! This is the letter they asked me to bring you!”
His expression softened: “Keep it for me, next time… I’ll read it when I come home.”
“Good! Then you must, must come back!”
“Mm.”
Lie Yunhua reared up on its front hooves and leaped from the cliff’s edge, riding the wind upward.
Li Chaoyang was still waiting for him ahead. The longer he delayed, the harder it would be to part—farewells were always like this. Only by cutting quickly could one avoid indecision.
But he didn’t want Lie Yunhua to fly so fast. After flying a stretch, he looked back and saw her still carrying the food box, chasing through the snow, waving vigorously at him. The oversized cloak draped limply on her shoulders, seeming ready to fall at any moment. A string of blurred footprints stretched long across the accumulated snow.
“Lu Qianqiao—! You must come back—!”
She shouted with all her might.
She always called his full name like this—not intimate, yet unforgettable.
The white mist from his breath blurred his eyes, and an irrepressible impulse surged through his iron-like body.
I cannot go forward, I cannot possibly take another step forward. The voice in his heart was soft but resolute.
Lie Yunhua neighed violently, turned and ran back, landing barely at the forest’s edge.
Xin Mei suddenly stopped chasing, eyes wide, watching him jump down from the horse’s back, walking slowly, then gradually faster, finally breaking into a run.
Cold air mixed with his long-missed scent rushed toward her.
He opened his arms and held her tightly.
An embrace separated by thirty autumns.
“…Come with me!”
His voice hoarse, he swept her up in his arms and strode toward the cliff’s edge.