On the twenty-fourth day of the eleventh month in the sixth year of Yongde of the Hua Dynasty, the weather was clear and cold.
In Yue Luo, Shanhai Valley, Tianyue Peak was shrouded in thick winter fog.
Mu Feng, the young Prince of Yue Luo, had grown into a handsome youth with bright eyes. On this day, he woke up early, intending to practice the sword techniques taught by his master, the Holy Sect Leader, hoping to surprise him later. Fearing he might not perform well and be scolded, he dismissed his servants and quietly snuck to the forest halfway up Tianyue Peak.
He composed himself, remembering the sword incantations. With his spirit, energy, and body united, the sword qi tore through the dense morning mist, growing more intense. Fallen leaves in the forest danced with the sword qi, and his figure gradually blended into the morning mist and falling leaves. As the true qi in his body surged, he let out a great shout, and the long sword flew from his hand, humming as it embedded itself in a tree trunk.
Mu Feng approached to take a closer look, delighted. His master would surely praise him later.
It was this master who supported him after his father’s tragic death, and who took him as a disciple after his mother’s passing, teaching him wholeheartedly and treating him like his own son. Together with the Chief Minister, they worked tirelessly to govern, making Yue Luo prosper day by day, with the country at peace and the people content. In young Prince Mu Feng’s heart, his master was like a god. He would do anything just to see him smile.
However, ever since his master stopped wearing that silver mask and appeared before the clan with his handsome face, he always seemed somewhat melancholy. Perhaps it was due to the exhausting affairs of the state. The same was true for the Chief Minister. In recent years, the Chief Minister’s temples had grown much greyer. He and the master, one civil and one martial, worked in perfect harmony, devoting all their energy to making Yue Luo increasingly powerful.
As Mu Feng was lost in thought, he suddenly heard the very light footsteps of several people. He became curious – who would come up Tianyue Peak on this cold winter morning?
He quietly walked to the edge of the forest and peered out, about to call out, but saw his master and the Chief Minister with sorrowful expressions. Ping Wushang was even more unsteady in his steps, continuously wiping away tears. Intrigued, Mu Feng swallowed his call and followed them from afar.
At Guxing Peak, in Xingyue Cave.
When Xiao Li took out the wooden tablet inscribed with “Spirit Tablet of Xiao Wuxia” from his bosom and placed it on the altar, Uncle Ping could no longer suppress his inner pain and longing. He fell to the ground, weeping bitterly, tears streaming down his face.
Xiao Li and Su Jun were also overwhelmed with grief. Five years had passed, yet the pain of that terrible news remained as vivid as ever. Su Jun prostrated himself on the ground, while Xiao Li wept with his head raised.
The mountain wind blew in from outside the cave-like countless ghosts wailing and weeping. Xiao Li took out water and wine offerings from the basket. Uncle Ping, with trembling hands, poured the libations before the spirit tablet, choking as he said, “Wuxia if your spirit is in heaven, come back and see Uncle Ping. Come back and see Yue Luo. Now, our clan members are no longer bullied. Wuxia, if it weren’t for you—”
Xiao Li struggled to compose himself, knelt before the spirit tablet, and looking at the three characters “Xiao Wuxia” on it, said softly, “Wuxia, Yue Luo has become a vassal state, the political situation is stable, and our national strength is growing day by day. Pei Yan has fulfilled his promises one by one. The first batch of our Yue Luo scholars have participated in this year’s spring and autumn imperial examinations. Fifth Junior Brother has selected a group of talented individuals. This year, there’s a surplus of grain throughout the clan, and our people are very united. The Prince is accomplished in both civil and military affairs. If you could see him, you would be very fond of him.
“Wuxia, we’ve received another letter from Master Cui. Your son is now over four years old. He looks a lot like you and is very intelligent. We want to meet him, but we don’t know where Xiao Ci is. If your spirit is in heaven, please bless them, mother and son, with peace and happiness.”
“Master, Chief Minister, who are you worshipping?” The clear voice of a young man came, startling the three. Xiao Li and Su Jun hurriedly stepped forward to block Mu Feng’s entry into the cave, bowing as they said, “It’s nothing, we’re just paying respects to the god of stars and moon.”
Mu Feng caught a glimpse of Ping Wushang quickly tucking the spirit tablet into his bosom and called out in a clear voice, “Ping Wushang.”
Mu Feng was increasingly developing the bearing of a ruler. Ping Wushang had no choice but to come forward and bow, “Your Highness.”
“Let me see it.” Mu Feng reached out his hand, his words carrying an irresistible authority. Ping Wushang and Xiao Li exchanged glances, arousing Mu Feng’s curiosity even more. He suddenly stepped forward, his right fist striking towards Ping Wushang.
Ping Wushang dared not counter-attack and could only leap back urgently. Mu Feng threw two more punches, and as Ping Wushang dodged, the wooden tablet fell to the ground. Before Ping Wushang could bend down, Mu Feng’s expression changed as he murmured, “Spirit tablet of Xiao Wuxia?!”
He turned to look at Su Jun, his face full of confusion. Su Jun, overcome with sadness, lowered his head as tears fell from his nose. Xiao Li knew they could no longer conceal the truth and sighed deeply, saying, “Your Highness.”
Mu Feng calmly looked at Xiao Li, “Chief Minister, please give me an explanation.”
At the top of Guxing Peak, the cold wind howled. Mu Feng felt his feet go numb. He could hardly believe what he had heard, unable to face the cruel reality.
It turned out that all of Yue Luo’s current prosperity was bought with the life of a man whose name was tarnished throughout the world; it turned out that the man revered by the clan as the “Phoenix” had long since been reborn in the flames—
He looked up at the sky, those brilliantly shining eyes seeming to be right before him. He let out a long cry, drawing the sword at his waist, like thunder and lightning, stirring up snow all around. He danced faster and faster, at times like stars falling across the wilderness, at times like an eagle striking the vast sky. As he danced, he let out an angry shout, his form suddenly stopping, the long sword crossing before his brow. A lock of black hair fell, and a crimson bloodstain seeped from his forehead.
“Chief Minister,” he looked at the bottomless abyss below the Bridge to Immortality and said in a deep voice, “Today, I want to ask you to be a witness.”
“Your Highness, please speak,” Xiao Li bowed deeply.
Mu Feng raised his head, looking towards the southeast, his voice slow but powerful: “I swear by blood before the god of Yue Luo that for the rest of my life, I will revitalize Yue Luo and compete with the Hua and Huan nations. I will clear the name and wash away the injustice of our clan’s ‘Phoenix God’ Xiao Wuxia, and let his heroic deeds be sung by all people one day!”
The winter morning sun burst forth from behind the thick clouds as if bearing witness to the bold words just uttered by Mu Feng, the young Prince of Yue Luo.
On this day, Pei Yan, the Chief Minister of the Hua Dynasty’s cabinet and Duke of Loyalty and Filial Piety, also accompanied Emperor Ming to pay respects at the imperial mausoleum. However, as he kowtowed deeply outside Cheng Mausoleum, what appeared before his eyes was that incomparably handsome smile, and in his ears was still that sentence spoken when he kicked him away from Fang City.
“Young Lord, in our next life, let’s be friends again—”
If there is a next life, San Lang, let’s get drunk and laugh together, take advantage of our youth while we’re still reckless, roam the rivers and lakes freely, and enjoy mountains and waters at will. Perhaps, that’s what true friendship is.
As he left the imperial mausoleum and gazed into the distance, the green pines on the mountains of the imperial mausoleum swayed in the cold wind, just like the raging flames on that day years ago.
Pei Yan couldn’t erase the image of those flames before his eyes. Returning to his mansion, he still went to the West Garden first. Inside the West Garden, everything remained the same. He lay down in the lounge chair under the wisteria trellis, swaying back and forth, his thoughts drifting.
All the people who once appeared here were gone. An Chen was dead, died for the mistakes he made; San Lang was also dead, but saved his greatest opponent before dying; Xiao Ci had left, leaving only that silver snow pearl fur coat in the West Garden; Zi Ming had also gone, somewhere in this world, constantly urging him to fulfill his past promises.
The West Garden was so quiet, but he only wanted to stay here day after day. Only here could he shed the fatigue of the day, only here could he faintly hear her pure laughter.
But no matter how nice the West Garden was, he couldn’t stay long. What he had to face every day were fierce duels with political enemies and thrilling contests with opponents. Even his family members, behind those smiling faces, were mostly calculations and precautions.
Perhaps it was his destiny to continue fighting in this arena of power, to stand on the lonely highest peak, looking down on the masses of people and the four seas. Destined to miss out on those most precious things, to miss out on the love of a lifetime.
This was fate, but also the path he willingly chose. He could only, at certain moments, let out a sigh. But afterward, his heart would still guide him to keep running on this path without stopping—
On this day, Nanzhao Mountain was bathed in sunshine. Due to its location in the southwest, even in winter, there was no howling cold wind or snow-covered ground as in the northern frontier.
Nanzhao Mountain’s ranges stretched on, filled with spiritual energy and producing many rare flowers and herbs, which were the primary choice for treating various diseases and the preferred collection spot for medicine peddlers from the Hua Dynasty and Yue Fief.
On this afternoon, at the Five Immortals Ridge market town of Nanzhao Mountain, the medicine collectors gradually dispersed, and the mountain farmers carrying empty bamboo baskets returned home.
Following a mountain path north from the east side of the Five Immortals Ridge market, one could reach Caiyun Peak, the highest peak of Nanzhao Mountain. Caiyun Peak was often shrouded in clouds and mist, with few inhabitants, making this mountain path rugged and difficult to traverse, with some sections even overgrown with weeds.
Jiang Ci placed her son Xiao Yao in a bamboo basket and walked briskly along the mountain path. When they reached a mountain pass, she took off her bamboo hat with a veil and took a long breath.
Four-and-a-half-year-old Yao, already knowing how to please his mother, sat in the bamboo basket and stretched out his chubby little hands to massage her shoulders. Jiang Ci smiled and said, “Yao has been very good today, not running around. Mama will make you something delicious when we get back.”
Xiao Yao thought for a moment and smiled, “Mama, I want to eat peach blossom cake.”
Jiang Ci chided gently, “There’s no ‘peach blossom cake’ now. We have to wait until the peach blossoms bloom next year.”
“Why are there no peach blossoms now?” Xiao Yao’s voice was very tender, as delicate as spring peach blossoms.
“Because it’s winter now. Peach blossoms only bloom in spring.”
“Why do they only bloom in spring?”
“Because—”
She felt a pang in her heart and stood by the mountain path, gazing northward. Wuxia, you loved to watch the peach blossoms bloom. Every year, Caiyun Peak is covered in peach blossoms like clouds and mist. Can you see them from heaven?
Xiao Yao tilted his head, watching tears slide down his mother’s cheeks, and reached out his little hand. Jiang Ci came to her senses and smiled, “Yao, if you can memorize the ‘Three Character Classic’ and the ‘Thousand Character Classic’ before the peach blossoms bloom next year, Mama will steam peach blossom cakes for you every day.”
Before dark, the mother and son finally returned to their home halfway up Caiyun Peak. Smoke rose gently from the wooden house’s roof. Jiang Ci was overjoyed, and Xiao Yao jumped into the bamboo basket, shouting, “Papa!”
Jiang Ci put him down and patted his bottom, chiding, “How many times have I told you, to call him Uncle!”
Cui Liang walked out of the kitchen with a smile, scooping up the running Xiao Yao. Soon, the big and small figures were laughing and playing as they moved from under the eaves into the main room.
Jiang Ci put down the bamboo basket and watched the two laughing. Seeing Cui Liang take out many small toys from his travel bag, she couldn’t help but smile, “Quickly thank your uncle.”
Xiao Yao, lying on the edge of the table, focused intently on the string puppet in Cui Liang’s hand and casually said, “Thank you, Papa.”
Jiang Ci didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. When Xiao Yao was three years old, he went with her to the market at the foot of the mountain and saw other children with fathers. He came back gloomy, and she had to tell him “Papa went to a very far place and it would take a very long time for him to come back.” Unexpectedly, that year, Cui Liang, who had been traveling the world, returned to Caiyun Peak to visit her and Xiao Yao. Xiao Yao then decided that this person who hadn’t come back for a very long time was his father. No matter what Jiang Ci said, whenever he saw Cui Liang after that, he would call him Papa.
That night, Xiao Yao was very excited and pestered Cui Liang to play until the hour of the Dog before falling into a deep sleep. Jiang Ci came out after tucking him in and saw Cui Liang lighting incense and bowing before the spirit tablet. She quietly walked over.
Cui Liang straightened up, looked at the spirit tablet, and sighed, “Brother Xiao, everything is well in Yue Luo. If your spirit is in heaven, you can rest in peace.”
Jiang Ci bowed in return, and Cui Liang helped her up. He seemed to hesitate, but finally said, “Xiao Ci.”
“Mm.”
“The Chief Minister of Yue Luo wants to see Yao.”
Jiang Ci smiled and shook her head, “Brother Cui when you named Yao back then, what was your intention?”
Cui Liang laughed heartily and said, “Yes, I forgot. It’s better for him to live a free and unfettered life, and not—”
Jiang Ci turned her head to look at the spirit tablet and said softly, “Wuxia’s spirit in heaven would think the same.”
Cui Liang sighed, and Jiang Ci already smiled and said, “Brother Cui, where have you traveled in these past six months?”
“I went to Ping and You provinces. Ah, I’m quite tired from all the walking.”
“If you’re tired, then rest.” Jiang Ci poured some tea and smiled, “Why don’t you stay here for the New Year this winter? It’s cold and freezing outside, no need to wander around. You can go traveling again when spring comes next year.”
Cui Liang held the teacup, the rising tea fragrance refreshing. Yes, after walking so much, why not rest for this winter? Or perhaps, it’s time to settle down—
He lifted his head and gazed at Jiang Ci, who sat quietly under the candlelight, embroidering a child’s apron. Listening to the faint sounds of the wind outside, his wandering heart suddenly settled in that moment. He softly called out, “Xiao Ci.”
“Hmm.” Jiang Ci looked up and smiled.
“From now on, I’d like to spend the New Year here every year, if that’s alright with you?”
(End of text)