Since my improvement in gunmanship wasn’t obvious and practicing alone wasn’t very effective, I often tried to find ways to get Xiao Huan to practice with me. He never refused.

The weather grew colder day by day. This morning, after getting up and having breakfast, the sky looked as gloomy as if it would rain. While mentally rehearsing the shooting technique I’d thought of last night, I quickly ran toward the Water Pavilion, hoping to drag him to the stone chamber before the gang members came to report their affairs.

Hurriedly announcing my arrival at the Water Pavilion, I was surprised not to see Xiao Huan at his desk.

Usually, at this time, he would already be sitting at his desk reviewing documents, with a bowl of untouched medicine beside him.

Just as I was thinking this, the cotton curtain of the inner chamber lifted, and Xiao Huan walked out wearing an outer robe. He seemed not to have groomed himself yet, his black hair slightly disheveled on his shoulders. He smiled at me: “Sorry, I woke up late. Please wait a moment.”

I lowered my head and cupped my fists: “Master, please take your time.”

He nodded with a smile and retreated to the inner chamber. After a while, he emerged properly groomed, his hair bound with a green jade hairpin. For ease of movement, he still wore only a single layer of blue cotton clothing.

I waited for him to open the underground passage entrance and followed him in. Upon reaching the stone chamber, as usual, we began practice without further words.

“Jing,” “Kun,” “Tongren,” “Daguo,” “Feng,” “Wuwang.”

The gunshots rang out in rapid succession, and all six bullets were either deflected or dodged by him without exception.

However, it wasn’t over. Just as he deflected the last bullet with his Wangfeng sword, the first missed bullet that had hit the wall ricocheted back, shooting straight toward his back.

It’s going to hit! Before I could rejoice, his left hand moved slightly backward, firmly catching the steel ball between his fingers.

He tossed the steel ball to the ground, coughed lightly, and smiled: “You did well today.”

“So close!” I swung my fist in frustration, immediately taking out my bullet pouch to reload. “Let’s try again.”

He smiled and continued practicing with me.

Perhaps because I saw hope of victory, I was especially energetic today, performing much better than usual. Yet the results remained the same as always—no matter how swift or clever my shots, they couldn’t touch even a corner of his clothes.

After another round of bullets was spent, I wiped away the sweat that had formed without my notice and loaded more bullets, ready to start shooting again.

Unlike his usual willingness to practice continuously, this time Xiao Huan waved away the gunsmoke before his face, coughing several times: “Let’s stop here for today. I have some matters to attend to.”

I had just conceived a new shooting technique and hurriedly said: “Master, one more time, just the last one.”

He frowned slightly, smiled, and said: “Tomorrow,” while turning toward the door.

His left foot stepped exactly where I had anticipated in my first move. If I fired now, this shooting technique would achieve a nearly perfect effect within this stone chamber.

The opportunity would slip away in an instant as his figure was about to pass that position. I shouted: “Xiao Huan!” while raising the gun to my eyes.

He turned back somewhat surprised, and I pulled the trigger, sending the first bullet flying exactly as planned.

The cold light of Wangfeng flashed, deflecting the steel ball into the air.

Second shot, third shot—bullets grazed his face, his green jade hairpin broke with a “ding” sound, and his black hair instantly cascaded down.

Fourth shot, fifth shot—Wangfeng’s continuous deflections of the steel balls produced murky, grating resonances.

I bent my knees and dodged to the side. At this moment, the first and fourth deflected bullets were rapidly falling in one direction.

Sixth shot—the final bullet burst from the barrel, accurately colliding with the first bullet in mid-air. Both bullets, carrying their momentum, struck the falling fourth bullet.

The three steel balls exploded like fireworks in the air. The sixth and first bullets ricocheted in different directions, but the fourth bullet shot straight upward from below.

That spot was a position my bullets couldn’t normally reach—his defensive blind spot.

In that split second, his Wangfeng sword swiftly fell back. The steel ball struck the sword with a sharp resonance, sparks flying as he stepped backward several paces. His back hit the stone wall, black hair scattered, covering his face.

I stood dumbfounded, stepping forward, about to call out.

His shoulders moved slightly, and a hesitant cough sounded. He steadied himself against the wall and stood up, raising his head with a smile, looking at the gun in my hand: “Well done. Today really… that’s enough. Let’s practice tomorrow, alright?”

I nodded, putting away the gun.

He smiled, tucking Wangfeng into his sleeve, but didn’t gather his scattered hair. Instead, he pressed his hand against his chest.

He walked in front, pushing open the door to leave the stone chamber. I extinguished the oil lamp, closed the door, and followed.

The passage quickly reached its end. Standing in the Water Pavilion after closing the secret door, he glanced around the empty room: “After you leave, call Hong Qing here.”

I clenched my fists and lowered my head: “Yes.”

After leaving, I immediately instructed the disciple outside to summon Li Mingshang, then circled to the window at the side of the Water Pavilion.

The window was half-open for ventilation in the early morning. Through the gap, I could see Xiao Huan’s profile as he stood quietly by his desk, head slightly lowered, completely unaware that I hadn’t gone far.

After a long while, he finally moved, pressing his right hand against the desk and coughing up blood with his head lowered.

He coughed softly, took a deep breath, and looked up at the small cabinet storing medicines beside his desk.

Seeming to measure the distance to the cabinet, he finally removed the hand pressing his chest, and used both hands on the desk, trying to move toward the cabinet.

He struggled to take one step, the desk shaking under his weight. The brush washer at the edge lost balance and fell, shattering with a “clang,” dirty water splashing over half his body.

The brush rack tilted next, and he finally collapsed heavily to the ground, the rack falling on top of him.

Muffled coughs rang out uncontrollably as he covered his mouth, bright red blood seeping through his fingers.

I quickly turned to the front, pushed open the door, and ran to hold his shoulders.

Seeing it was me, his gaze flickered, but he still covered his mouth while coughing, struggling to say: “It’s nothing…”

I said nothing, just held his body, trying my best to let him lean against my shoulder. He seemed to have no strength left, blood staining his blue robe, mixing with the dirty water.

I wanted to kiss him but forcefully restrained myself, only saying: “This disciple has already sent for Li Mingshang. Please regulate your internal energy first, Master.”

He coughed intermittently, blood still seeping from his lips, sliding down his pale jaw.

It was my fault. I had noticed he was barely holding up today, yet I still wounded him with my bullets.

What if he died like this? Holding his cold body, this thought suddenly occurred to me… If that happened, then I would have hurt him again, so I should give myself to him as compensation. That way, I could go with him, right? Not have to stay behind alone.

I could hold back the kiss, but not the tears that kept flowing, falling drop by drop to the ground, mixing with his blood and water stains until they disappeared.

Footsteps quickly approached from outside the Water Pavilion—it was Li Mingshang and Hong Qing.

Seeing the situation inside, Hong Qing immediately came forward and took Xiao Huan’s body from my hands.

Li Mingshang quickly examined the injuries and suddenly flew into a rage: “I told you not to carelessly use your true qi! Did it all go in one ear and out the other? How many lives do you think you have? Because of you, I don’t even dare to wander around anymore, watching over your worthless life, worried sick every day! Just like your damn father—if you don’t value your life, then go die! See if I stop you! Do you want to anger your master to death? In thirty years of medical practice, I’ve never lost a patient. Are you determined to die in my hands? Is that what you want? You want to anger your master to death?”

While speaking, his hands never slowed in applying acupuncture: “They say I’m the death judge’s nightmare? I think you’re trying to be mine! Do you want to be the first person to die under my care?”

I wiped the tears from my face and took a light breath: “Master Li, rather than saying so much, why not focus on saving him?”

Only then did Li Mingshang notice me, glancing my way: “This fool has been teaching you to practice with the gun, hasn’t he?”

I nodded: “Yes.”

Xiao Huan, who had been keeping his eyes closed and coughing softly, opened them and said quietly: “It was my…”

“I wounded him with the gun,” I interrupted.

“Young lady,” Li Mingshang narrowed his eyes, his tone unprecedentedly severe: “You’re not entirely ignorant of this fool’s condition. Today, your shot has injured his heart meridians. If it had been any more severe, even I would only be able to prepare his funeral! I don’t care what disagreement you two had—forget being former husband and wife, you wouldn’t treat even a stranger so ruthlessly!”

I bit my lip: “It was unintentional. Mistakes can happen during practice.”

Li Mingshang narrowed his eyes, his tone growing harsh: “This fool’s martial arts aren’t just slightly above yours. Even with a gun, unless you caught him off guard with trickery, you couldn’t hurt him! Tell me, on such a cold day, did you shoot at him when his poison was acting up and he couldn’t maintain himself?”

I had no response to this, barely managing to lift the corner of my lips: “Indeed.”

Hearing this, Li Mingshang stopped needling and slammed his hand on the wooden table beside him, leaving a deep handprint: “None of you know your limits! Seems I need to teach you a lesson today! You don’t even know what you did wrong!”

He seemed to think I had deliberately injured Xiao Huan. Unable to explain, I looked at Xiao Huan on the bed, took out my gun, loaded it, and pointed it at my chest: “Master Li needn’t trouble himself. I wounded Master, a great disrespect. I’ll repay it myself.”

Li Mingshang hadn’t expected this from me and was stunned for a moment.

Suddenly my sleeve tightened. Xiao Huan, ignoring the silver needles in his major acupoints, struggled to sit up and grabbed my sleeve, calling out anxiously: “Cang Cang!”

Li Mingshang stamped his foot and flashed to the bedside, supporting Xiao Huan. Not daring to disturb the needles in his acupoints, he raged: “Foolish boy! Still daring to move! Do you truly not value your life?”

“Put down the gun…” Xiao Huan suppressed his cough, sweat sliding down his temples. “Quick, put it down…”

Li Mingshang was both angry and anxious: “Fine, protect her! I’m just an old blockhead, meddling in you two’s quarrel—the second most inexplicable couple under heaven! Go ahead and argue! You’re both suffocating yourselves, and I suppose that makes you happy!”

I looked at Xiao Huan’s hand clutching my sleeve and managed a slight smile: “I was just putting on an act… I don’t want to die…”

But he still stared at me steadily until I finally slowly lowered the gun. Only then did he cough up another mouthful of blood, his gaze becoming somewhat unfocused: “No self-harm…”

I raised my hand to hold his shoulders, nodding: “I won’t, Master, please rest assured.”

He wanted to say something more but coughed up another mouthful of blood instead. His arm slipped down, and he quietly closed his eyes.

“Brother Xiao…” I could finally call out, lowering my head to lightly kiss his blood-stained thin lips.

My tears fell onto his pale cheeks, dampening his long eyelashes. Why had we ended up like this?

“Hold him steady and put him on the bed,” Li Mingshang’s voice came through. His earlier anger had subsided, returning to his usual tone.

I nodded, carefully laying his body on the bed and wiping the blood from his lips with my sleeve.

“You two are…” Li Mingshang only spoke half a sentence before taking out another silver needle and slowly inserting it into an acupoint on Xiao Huan’s chest.

“You needn’t blame yourself too much. This fool’s current state is largely self-inflicted. Your shot only forced his symptoms to surface earlier,” Li Mingshang said lazily, no longer looking at me.

I didn’t answer, slowly sitting down by the bed and burying my face in the blankets.

An endless autumn rain followed.

Xiao Huan regained consciousness the next day but still coughed lightly, bringing up spots of blood.

Li Mingshang was right—he had pushed himself too hard for too long. Now his old illness had flared up, and it would be difficult to return to his former condition.

The weather was cold and damp, yet the Feng Lai Pavilion headquarters remained busy.

After the start of autumn, a major incident shook the martial arts world. The Tianshan Sect, normally uninvolved in Central Plains affairs, inexplicably sent notices to all major sects demanding their submission to Tianshan’s unification of the jianghu.

They then absorbed the Qilian Sword Sect and Kunlun Sword Sect, killing both sects’ leaders.

The Central Plains martial arts world could no longer stand idle. The highly respected leaders of Shaolin and Wudang called for all sects to unite against the Tianshan Sect and seek justice for Qilian and Kunlun.

Feng Lai Pavilion was among the first nine major sects to receive the crusade notice. They immediately dispatched Mu Yan and the leaders of the Zhen Shui and Jing Mu Halls, along with half of their disciples, to join the army.

After his injury, Xiao Huan remained bedridden. With Mu Yan away, Su Qian was the only hall master left at headquarters.

Short-handed, she had me assist with some affairs.

Going out with Su Qian several times, my reputation unexpectedly grew in the jianghu.

I was somewhat surprised. Although Xiao Huan hadn’t taught me any specific techniques these past months, he seemed to have incorporated his understanding of martial arts into our daily training. During these outings, I could quite easily defeat several seemingly formidable gang leaders.

After watching me disarm the Salt Gang leader with one shot, Su Qian said with a half-sigh: “To be honest, I wouldn’t dare face you carelessly now.”

I smiled, feeling rather pleased. After all, Su Qian’s hidden weapon skills were nearly unmatched in the jianghu. For such an expert to say this—if I claimed not to feel a bit smug, even I wouldn’t believe it.

I smiled: “It’s just that I have a good master.”

Su Qian wore a slight smile: “Indeed. Many supreme masters in the jianghu dream of crossing paths with Bai Chifan in their lifetime. You’ve been practicing with him day and night for months.”

I could only smile and wave the gun in my hand.

Another half month passed quickly. By the time the endless dreary rain finally stopped, winter was approaching.

On the first day of winter, the weather grew even colder, and everyone’s breath was visible in white clouds. I received an urgent letter from Xiao Qianqing.

Usually when something happened in the capital, Xiao Qianqing would use notifying me as an excuse to come hang around in person. This was the first time she had someone deliver a letter instead.

Opening it, I saw it only mentioned some urgent matter requiring my swift return to the capital.

Putting away the letter and thinking for a moment, I realized this departure could take an unknown time. I should properly request leave from Xiao Huan.

These days I’d been busy following Su Qian and hadn’t spent much time at Yi Shui Court. Since last reporting affairs with Su Qian, I hadn’t entered the Water Pavilion for several days. Now I hesitated at the door before entering.

The guard disciple had already announced me, but all the doors and windows of the Water Pavilion’s outer chamber were now surrounded by thick cotton curtains. The room was completely sealed, and I wasn’t sure if Xiao Huan had heard inside.

Walking in, the heavy medicinal smell hit me immediately. I stood in the outer chamber listening for a while, hearing no movement inside. After some hesitation, I lifted the leather curtain to the inner chamber and looked in.

The Water Pavilion had excellent lighting. Even with leather curtains on all doors and windows, the room wasn’t dark. I entered quietly, walking around the white jade screen by the door, and saw Xiao Huan leaning against the bed’s headboard.

His eyes were closed, head slightly tilted, resting against the redwood bed frame. His long hair was gathered to one side, falling somewhat messily onto his chest. An opened document lay on his slightly bent knees.

One hand pressed on the document, while the other had fallen from the white fox fur wrapped around his shoulders, hanging beside the bed.

In the cold daylight, that hand was pale and thin, his fingertips seeming to dissolve into the air, faint blue veins slightly raised on the back of his hand. In complete silence, one could almost hear the sound of blood flowing through those veins to his fingertips.

He must have grown tired of reading documents and dozed off against the headboard without realizing it. He’d fallen so deeply asleep that even with people talking outside and someone standing by his bed, he didn’t wake.

I stood at the door, neither speaking nor moving.

His breathing was so faint that unless one listened carefully, it couldn’t be heard at all. His chest barely moved—in that cool light, he looked like a motionless statue.

Time passed quietly. The shadows of the bed canopy’s tassels on his face seemed to lengthen slightly. A cool numbness slowly crept up from my feet. Finally, I saw him slightly furrow his brows, then raise the hand that had been pressing the document to his chest. He coughed several times, his eyelashes flickering slightly.

I took a light breath and walked over, carefully saying: “Master.”

The document on his knees fell to the ground with a “plop.” He opened his eyes in a daze, frowning as he looked at me with some effort before smiling: “Cang Cang? I dozed off—have you been here long?”

I shook my head: “Not very long.”

He coughed lightly and smiled: “What brings you here?”

I lowered my head: “This disciple has come to bid farewell to Master. There are some family matters requiring my immediate return.”

He pressed his chest, coughing lightly and speaking with some difficulty: “I understand… just go and return quickly.”

I clenched my fists, resisting again and again, but finally went over and crouched by the bed to look at him.

He seemed slightly startled before speaking: “What is it?”

I smiled: “Master… doesn’t look well. I hope when I return next, I’ll see Master fully recovered.”

He smiled through light coughs: “Thank you.”

This is good enough… He’s just my master, and I only need to treat him as one would treat a teacher.

Yet my eyes still grew sore. I stood up and cupped my fists: “Then this disciple shall take her leave.”

He raised his eyes to look at me, nodding with a smile: “Very well, you may go.”

My cupped fists froze in mid-air, suddenly unable to speak another word. I could see his eyes now—eyes tinged with the color of death.

Xiao Huan’s eyes had always been bright. Because they were darker than normal, they were also brighter than normal. I often felt his eyes were like the stars in a clear night sky—extremely deep, extremely bright, their radiance so magnificent it seemed about to overflow, yet strangely not garish.

But now his eyes had lost their light, like a clouded sky bereft of stars, leaving only an eerie darkness—empty and void, endlessly black, silent as death.

He was looking at me, but suddenly I couldn’t be sure if he was seeing me or if he could see me. Could such dead, almost otherworldly eyes still reflect the myriad phenomena of this world?

In the long silence, he slightly furrowed his brows and spoke with some confusion: “Cang…”

“What’s wrong with your eyes…” I stepped forward again, the words bursting out.

His pupils moved with my figure, still confused: “My eyes?”

“Master’s eyes are… so strange, so dark,” I said with relief, smiling.

“Oh, this?” He smiled in sudden understanding. “My eyes are darker than most people’s, perhaps looking a bit strange.”

“I see.” I smiled and cupped my fists again. “This disciple takes her leave.”

He smiled and nodded. I turned to leave but caught sight of him bending slightly on the bed, trying to use his hanging hand to pick up the fallen document. That hand seemed stiff from poor circulation, failing to reach the document after several attempts. Suddenly it began to spasm, and he pressed the spasming arm with his other hand, awkwardly leaning against the bed’s edge.

I turned back, picked up the document—a geographical record of some kind, this page densely marked with mountains and rivers—and placed it on his knees, smiling: “Master should not overexert himself. Please rest more.”

He took hold of the book and smiled: “Thank you for your concern.”

I smiled: “As your disciple, it’s my duty.” I cupped my fists and withdrew.