“Your purpose has been achieved. I thought you would leave as far away as possible.”

“I’m used to this place.” Yan Qige answered with a calm tone.

Yusang turned her head away, propping her chin as she continued gazing at the mist over the river outside the window. Slowly, as if sighing with emotion, she said, “Half a year ago, when we came to live here, I only wanted to cure your illness. I even thought that if I could cure you, we would live here afterward, stay here forever.”

Yan Qige made no response. Yusang turned her head to look at him and asked, “Don’t you have anything to say?”

“No.”

Yusang said nothing more and slowly stood up. Her fingers moved across her chest, and as time passed, strong winds began to blow outside. The fierce wind blew open all the doors and windows of the warm pavilion, howling as it rushed in, overturning everything inside the room. Tables, chairs, and utensils were all swept away or smashed into pieces.

“Give me the Soul Collector and the soul artifacts.” Yusang placed her hand, condensed with all her spiritual power, against her chest and finally spoke to Yan Qige.

“I cannot.”

Yusang closed her eyes and struck toward Yan Qige with the spiritual power condensed in her hand. A tremendous sound erupted, the earth shook, and Yusang could hear the sound of surrounding houses collapsing and shattering. After a long while, she slowly opened her eyes to see Yan Qige still standing before her.

In the blink of an eye, a drop of crimson overflowed from Yan Qige’s lips, falling onto the white robes on his chest like a blooming plum blossom.

…

“You know that your cultivation is nearly depleted now. Why won’t you admit defeat? Why won’t you give up? I only want to ferry the souls of my clan members. Why must you stop me, why must you force me?” Yusang held back tears and asked through gritted teeth, her pained expression making it seem as if that strike had landed on her instead.

“Yusang, use the Soul Collector to take my soul. You’re just missing one more—add mine and it will be enough…” Yan Qige spoke with a faint smile, but before he could finish half his sentence, blood gushed violently from his mouth.

“What did you say?”

“This lantern must not be extinguished. You must live well, live well…” Yan Qige’s words remained unfinished as he closed his eyes and slowly fell backward into the snow, stirring up some white snowflakes beneath him.

Yusang watched with clenched teeth, her fingers tightly balled into fists within her sleeves, nails digging into her palms. Blood seeped from between her fingers, drop by drop falling into the white snow and creating small red pits.

Yan Qige’s face gradually turned pale. The Soul Collector appeared beside him, its light flickering several times before floating up and settling before Yusang.

Some wind brushed past with the sound of rustling robes. Yusang slightly opened her eyes to look ahead and discovered a pair of brocade boots on the snowy ground before her. Bai Zhi looked at Yan Qige lying in the snow, her brow moving slightly as if she understood everything.

“I still arrived a step too late. You still made your move.”

“Why did he smile at the end? Why did he want me to collect his soul? Was I wrong? Why am I so sad, truly so very sad?” Yusang looked up at Bai Zhi.

Bai Zhi looked at the Soul Collector suspended beside Yusang’s hand and said, “This is the last Soul Collector of the Fengjian Clan. You are the last princess of the Fengjian Clan. One person, one lantern—where the lantern exists, the person exists. Don’t you understand yet? This lantern is tied to his life and also to yours.”

Yusang numbly caught the lantern. Looking at that ball of light, she suddenly seemed to understand something and, as if seeing something terrifying, threw it to the ground and retreated several steps.

“Impossible, it can’t be like this.” Yusang shook her head, not daring to believe the thought that jumped into her mind. Feeling a stuffy pain in her chest, she couldn’t help but cover her chest and squat down, curling up in the snow and trembling constantly.

“From the very beginning, when I gave him the Soul Collector and the Azure Dragon Sword, I knew I would kill him. I just wanted to borrow his power to collect soul artifacts. He is my clan’s mortal enemy—I should hate him. Killing him is revenge. I can finally ferry my clan members’ souls. I should be happy. I should be happy, I must be happy…” Yusang spoke as if to herself, trying hard to lift the corners of her mouth, but tears kept rolling down, and her body trembled incessantly.

“Zi Feng always thought he wanted to destroy the soul artifacts to stop you from opening the Netherworld Gate. She was wrong—he was helping you. The reason he took Zi Feng’s soul was to prevent Zi Feng from stopping you or telling you the truth, and also to make you hate him more, so you could steel your heart and strike to kill him without hesitation according to your original plan…”

“Stop talking… please stop talking…” Yusang shook her head and tightly closed her eyes, pleading aloud as she swayed and retreated several steps, stumbling as she turned and ran away.

Yusang disappeared, stumbling into the heavy snow. The surroundings became quiet, and Yan Qige’s body gradually grew cold in the snow. Bai Zhi approached Yan Qige on the ground, squatted down to look at those handsome features already covered by snow at the brow, and sighed deeply.

“If you knew it would come to this, why begin at all? There are so many women in this world, and after two thousand years, you just had to fancy her. This truly is karmic retribution.”

The wind and snow grew heavier, and in no time, everything was buried by the heavy snow.

One day later, at the imperial palace of Dajing City.

Yusang woke up in the empty palace hall with one arm pressed under her forehead and the other hand placed on her chest. There were some tear stains on the brown table. She sat up and looked toward the window—outside showed a faint white light, as if it was nearly dawn.

Rising and walking to the door, she pulled open the great hall’s doors. With some creaking sounds, all of Dajing City came into view. The distant Taiye Lake was faintly visible in the morning mist, and the Fengjian Divine Tree stood quietly on the water. This scene was both illusory and real, almost identical to Dajing City from her childhood memories.

Huayi came to see her, climbing the high steps to stand beside her and following her gaze forward. After a long while, she pointed to the sun rising outside Dajing Palace and said, “Do you remember? When you were little, you loved watching sunrises, so your palace was the highest in all of Dajing City.”

“I remember. So that day when Dajing City fell, I was the last person to know. By the time the enemies reached my palace, everyone else was already dead.”

“This isn’t your fault. The blame should go to… should go to…” Huayi’s voice faded as she spoke.

“I don’t know whose fault it is, either. Perhaps I shouldn’t have survived from the beginning. Having survived, I bear all my clan members’ hopes—I cannot retreat, no matter how difficult it becomes.”

“Now you only need to use the soul artifacts to awaken the divine tree, and the Netherworld Gate can be opened. The departed souls of the Fengjian Clan can cross to the netherworld, but Yan Qige will die—his soul will be scattered. Can you bear it?”

Yusang stared ahead without speaking, but such silence already let Huayi understand her answer.

“Even if Yan Qige dies, you still decide to continue. Don’t you feel sad?”