The tent entrance remained tightly shut. Inside — silence without a sound. Outside — anxiety and restless dread.

Counting from the day the tent was closed, two days and two nights had already passed.

The generals of the Fengyun Cavalry and Mo Yu Cavalry, though riddled with worry and wishing to keep watch before the tent, had all been called away by Ren Chuanyu’s single remark — “Do not forget your own identities and responsibilities.” Even so, one person would rotate in each day, and upon seeing Jiu Wei and Feng Qiwu standing silently before the tent, each in turn felt their heart sink to the very bottom.

As for Ren Chuanyu herself, she had not returned since that day. Defending Dongdan Crossing had already consumed every ounce of her strength and focus. The opponent she faced was the most formidable adversary of her life, and she could not afford the slightest carelessness. Because of her steadfast command presence, the Fengmo army, which had temporarily lost its supreme commander, did not scatter or lose heart — they held their formations in strict readiness, their fighting spirit undiminished. Even Huang Chao, viewing them from across the crossing, could not help but look at her with new eyes. On one hand, their defensive position was so tight it could not be broken, and so he did not attack. On the other hand, he was waiting for news from Kang City, and so he did not move. The two armies at Dongdan Crossing remained, for the time being, at an uneasy standstill.

On the morning of the third day, a sound finally came from within the tent.

“Ginseng.”

A single short word — and yet to the people keeping watch outside, it was as glorious as a sound from the heavens.

The Zhong brothers brought an unceasing flow of ginseng broth into the tent, while those waiting outside — from Jiu Wei and Feng Qiwu to the Fengmo senior generals who had come upon hearing the news — were still not permitted to enter. Every one of them stared fixedly at the tent entrance, their eyes burning with urgency. Cheng Zhi, that great strapping brute of a man, had even gathered tears in his eyes and was pressing his palms together toward the sky over and over, imploring heaven’s protection.

The sun rose and the sun set. The moon hung and the moon hid. Morning followed morning and dusk followed dusk. Torment followed torment, and anxiety followed anxiety. Every day passed like a year — but at last every year has its end.

On the morning of the fifth day, the faint sound of light footsteps finally drifted out from within the tent, and instantly sent a surge of elation through everyone waiting outside.

The tent entrance finally opened. Golden morning light fell slanting across the figure at the doorway. The silver armor blazed with brilliant radiance, dazzling and distracting the eye, so that for one instant people wondered whether the figure before them was real or an apparition.

Standing calmly at the entrance was the Feng Wang — uninjured, her expression composed and at peace.

“Your Highness! You have finally—”

“Feng Wang, the King, how is he—”

The crowd surged forward urgently, each of them crying out about the thing they cared for most.

Xiyun raised a hand. Her gaze swept once across the gathering, and in that instant the panicked, agitated, burning-with-urgency crowd fell silent involuntarily. Her gaze settled at last on Jiu Wei. She stepped toward him, extended her hand, and clasped his. “Jiu Wei — I am entrusting him to you.”

“I will do everything within my power.” Jiu Wei bowed. Only — that characteristically steady voice of his carried in this moment a thread of heaviness, for from the hand gripping his so tightly, he could sense what she was feeling.

Xiyun swept her gaze once more across the assembled crowd, then turned and stepped forward. “All generals of the Fengyun Cavalry and Mo Yu Cavalry — follow me.”

The crowd exchanged glances, then silently followed after Xiyun. In an instant the area before the tent returned to stillness. Only Jiu Wei, Feng Qiwu, Xiao’er, and the Zhong brothers remained.

“Miss Feng, please go back and rest. I will take good care of King Xi.” Jiu Wei gave a small nod, then stepped into the tent.

“Master Jiu Wei!” Feng Qiwu called after him. “Please — let me see him. Just once.”

Jiu Wei looked back at Feng Qiwu, and after a long moment, sighed softly. “Very well.”

The two of them entered the tent, walked around the jade screen, lifted the curtain of pearls, and drew back the silk curtains before the bed — revealing the figure lying within with closed eyes. In that instant, a thunderous crash rang out simultaneously in both their hearts, as though something had collapsed and lodged in their chests, pressing down with crushing weight, stopping their breath in that single moment. Pain flooded through both their hearts. Their eyes, without knowing why, grew wet.

Was this the person they knew? Was the figure lying in the bed truly the dignified, noble King Xi they were familiar with? Was this truly the incomparable Young Master Lanxi, whose elegance and peerless presence had drawn the admiration and reverence of the world?

The person in the bed had aged thirty years.

That face, once smooth and radiant as a fine jade, was now covered with fine lines. The skin, once bright and clear and luminous, had turned withered and sallow and without luster. The hair, once black as flowing ink-silk, had gone entirely grey and white. Those eyes, once so fathomlessly deep they could enthrall a person’s very soul, were now dimly closed. That air of effortless elegance and brilliance that had been present in every moment — it was gone entirely, leaving nothing. He lay upon the bed dull and lifeless, and were it not for that faint, fragile rise and fall of his chest, one might have taken him for a dead man.

“For her — he has come to this.”

Feng Qiwu reached out as though to touch the figure in the bed — and then her hand dropped halfway, catching the tears that fell in silence.

The seas run dry and the stones crumble, heaven grows old and the earth grows ancient — these had always seemed like brilliant legends, radiant and impossibly beautiful. But now that beautiful legend was so pale and hollow. The white-haired, aged face before her — this was what was eternal.

“It is as though the most perfect piece of ink-black jade has had a lifetime of weathering carved into it in a single night!” Jiu Wei looked upon the figure in the bed and could not remain unmoved. The sheen of water flickered in his eyes. “So ‘Snow of the Old Heavenly Mountain’ truly exists in this world — and he is the successor of the ‘Heavenly Elder?'”

Feng Qiwu looked up. What “Snow of the Old Heavenly Mountain” was, who the “Heavenly Elder” was — those things were not her concern. She cared only about one thing. “What will become of him?”

“‘Snow of the Old Heavenly Mountain’ is the supreme technique of the Heavenly Elder. No matter how severe the injury, as long as there is a single breath remaining, life can be saved. Only — he has transferred his entire power, energy, essence, and spirit to the Feng Wang. And he…”

Perhaps Feng Qiwu’s gaze was too icy and too piercing, for the second half of Jiu Wei’s sentence stuck in his throat.

“What will become of him?” The ice in Feng Qiwu’s eyes had melted into a shimmer of gathering water.

“He has only one month of life remaining.” Jiu Wei said it gently.

With a stumble, Feng Qiwu collapsed to the floor. Her vacant gaze drifted, and at last came to rest on the figure in the bed. “Only one month?”

“Yes.” Jiu Wei nodded, and looked at Feng Qiwu sitting on the floor — but did not reach out to help her up.

“One month… how is that possible…” Feng Qiwu covered her face and choked back a sob. “How can this be?”

Jiu Wei looked at Feng Qiwu, then looked at the figure in the bed, and let out a long and heavy sigh. “Since he has been willing to do this for the Feng Wang, and since he is indeed the successor of the Heavenly Elder, then I will do everything in my power to save him. ‘The Heavenly Elder and the Earthly Elder — two immortals between heaven and earth’ — the game of chess they left at the summit of Changmang Shan is still waiting for him to play.”

With those words, he removed his shoes, seated himself cross-legged on the bed, supported Lanxi upright, placed one hand over his chest and one hand over his brow — and a blue-green spiritual energy immediately enveloped Lanxi’s entire body.

And within the Feng Wang’s tent, Xiyun issued a command that left every general present stunned speechless.

“Your Highness—” The impetuous Cheng Zhi immediately opened his mouth — and was stopped by Qi Shu.

All the others simply stared blankly at the queen upon the throne, unable to understand why she had issued such an order, or what its purpose could be.

“Strategist Ren!” Xiyun’s keen gaze fell on Ren Chuanyu.

“Feng Wang, the King, he—”

“This Queen and King Xi are one body and one soul. The subjects of both nations bow and obey. Those who dare to defy this order — this Queen will consecrate her sword with their blood.” The wind swept sharp and cold, and a flash of cold light blazed — Fenghen Sword, quivering, embedded itself in the writing table. The blazing sword-light served as a reminder to every general present.

“We respectfully receive your command!” All those within the tent bowed their heads.

“Good!” Xiyun gave a slight nod, her sharp and keen gaze sweeping across the bowing crowd. “Ren Chuanyu — hear my order!”

“Your servant is present!” Ren Chuanyu stepped forward.

“Declare to the entire army — the Feng Wang has passed from this world!” Xiyun spoke her own death announcement with an expressionless face.

“Yes!” Ren Chuanyu bowed her head.

“Qiao Jin, Ren Chuanyun — hear my order!” Her gaze shifted to the other two.

“Your servants are present!” Qiao Jin and Ren Chuanyun stepped forward.

“Select forty thousand of the most elite and swiftest riders in the Mo Yu Cavalry and have them standing by!” She pulled Fenghen Sword from the table — shing! — and sheathed it.

“Yes!” Both received their orders.

“All remaining generals — hear my order!” Her gaze swept across them like lightning — bright and keen and piercing.

“Your servants are present!” That gaze caused every general to summon their full and utmost attention.

Xiyun spoke with a voice that carried no agitation yet held its own steady force: “Channel the grief and fury of the entire army into avenging the Feng Wang. The battle of vengeance is to be conducted under Strategist Ren’s command and direction.”

“Yes!” All the generals bowed their heads.

Xiyun gave a satisfied nod. “Strategist Ren, remain. All others — make your respective preparations.”

“Your servants take their leave!” The generals withdrew.

Only Ren Chuanyu and Xiyun remained in the tent — one seated still upon the throne, the other standing still within the tent.

“The Strategist knows what this Queen intends.” Xiyun’s eyes looked at Ren Chuanyu with a calm and steady gaze — deep as an ocean, bright as stars, clear as water.

“Your servant is convinced, heart and mind alike.” Ren Chuanyu bowed. No matter how much this person before her had once given her cause to calculate and worry and rage, no matter how much she had exhausted her mind trying to find a way to make the person before her withdraw and disappear — at this moment, their hearts were aligned, their purpose the same.

“Kang City — which of Huangguo’s generals is presently defending it?”

“It should be General Qiu Jiushuang and General Xiao Xuekong.”

“I see.” Xiyun gave a slight nod. “Then while this Queen is away, everything at Dongdan Crossing is in your hands.”

“Your servant will not fail the Feng Wang’s expectations!” Ren Chuanyu raised her head and looked at the Feng Wang before her. Though her appearance remained unchanged and her expression was tranquil, Ren Chuanyu would not miss that trace of steely resolve concealed at the very depths of those eyes. For the first time, she bowed her head willingly and deeply before this queen before her — in recognition of what she was about to risk her life to do.

“One more thing—” Xiyun lifted a hand and tapped the arm of the chair. “Using the Huang Wang’s hand and the Huangguo xinghuoling, send a letter to General Qiu. Remember to choose the timing well.”

“Yes!”

“You are dismissed.”

“Your servant takes her leave.”

After Ren Chuanyu withdrew, the vast tent was left with Xiyun alone within it — silent and empty. She breathed in, a long deep breath, which disturbed the severe wound in her chest, and she could not help but tighten her brow. She raised a hand to cover her chest, closed her eyes, and regulated her breathing. Only after a long while did she open her eyes again, and from the folds of her garment drew out a delicately carved ink-jade orchid.

“Anmei.” Her lips moved — without sound. She condensed a thread of refined energy and sent it out across the distance.

A moment later, a blurred black shadow drifted into the tent without so much as a whisper of sound.

“Anmei pays respects to the Feng Wang.”

“Deliver this object to Kang City. As an agent of the Lan shadows, you know how to handle it.” Xiyun opened her palm.

“Yes.” The ink-jade orchid in her palm drifted lightly into the shadow. “Anmei takes her leave.” The shadow vanished as silently as it had come.

On the fourteenth day of the first month, white mourning banners were raised throughout the Fengmo military camp. The entire army donned white funeral garments. The White Phoenix banner was hung upside down in the air.

In that instant, every soldier across the thousands upon thousands of troops at Dongdan Crossing understood — when the royal banner hangs inverted, the sovereign has passed from this world.

In that instant, even the opposing Zheng Tian Cavalry and Jinji Cavalry were shaken.

Fengguo’s queen had died? Was that radiant woman, brilliant as a phoenix, truly gone?

On the same day, the Huanghua army received orders — a full day of preparation and rest. The soldiers understood: the King was about to launch the final assault.

On the fifteenth day, the Fengmo military camp, which had maintained a purely defensive posture all this time, underwent a transformation. Like a sleeping lion awakening with a roar, like a reclining dragon surging up with explosive force — imposing in momentum, blazing in fighting spirit.

In the Zheng Tian Cavalry’s royal tent, Huang Chao listened to the report and said with calm lightness: “The Fengmo army is finally about to move.”

Yu Wuyuan, who had been seated cross-legged in quiet meditation on the cushioned couch, opened his eyes. He had plainly been resting for several days, yet his vital energy seemed thoroughly exhausted. A veiled weariness was faintly visible between his brows, as though he had already lived through three lifetimes and exhausted every trial this mortal world had to offer. But in direct contrast to his depleted spirit was his countenance, which had become, if anything, more luminous than before. The fair, clear skin now gave off a subtle jade-like translucence — lustrous and brilliant. Even Hua Chunran, who was called the foremost beauty of Dong Chao, did not possess such a jade-like complexion. Looking at him, one was reminded of a figure sculpted from white jade, and his title of “Young Master Yu” was truly well deserved.

“Cangshu City has the official road that was built by the late Shi Di when he ascended Changmang Shan to consecrate the mountain, with ten thousand people recruited to dig and lay it. It can be called a ‘Royal Road’ — a road leading to the imperial throne. Therefore it absolutely cannot be allowed that he cross Cangyou Lake.” Yu Wuyuan rose from the couch. “If the Feng Wang is gone, her army will certainly grieve. An army in grief will have a surge of fierce fighting spirit, and so during these past few days you should retreat from their sharpest momentum and adopt a defensive posture. As for fighting spirit — the first drumbeat gives full force, the second weakens it, and the third exhausts it entirely.”

“Retreat from their sharpest momentum?” A flash of keen light sparked in Huang Chao’s golden eyes. “He will begin to think I am wavering and lacking in spirit!”

“Huang Chao — you are to accomplish a great undertaking in the capacity of an emperor, not to prove your worth as a hero through combat!” Yu Wuyuan raised his voice in a rare display of reproof. “You possess the emperor’s eye for recognizing talent, the emperor’s capacity for employing it, and the emperor’s wisdom in managing people. Your one and only shortcoming is that you love war and love to win. In the chaos of a turbulent age, this is not necessarily a fault. But once the realm is first established, you must know when to let the land and people rest and recover.”

Huang Chao’s mouth moved as though he wished to argue — but ultimately he held his tongue and said nothing. Then his eyes shifted sideways and he said: “From childhood to now, not even my own father ever scolded me like this. Yet somehow when it comes from you, I cannot argue back — and I even have to accept it willingly!” He could not help but laugh softly. “They say there is always something that can subdue another thing. I suppose this is how it is.”

“You are the one I have chosen.” Yu Wuyuan said this as though it were simply self-evident, lifting his eyes to look at the man before him — dazzling as the bright midday sun. He spoke in an even, unhurried tone. “Your will and your mind are resolute. From childhood to now, once you have fixed your eye on a goal, you give it everything — undaunted by obstacles, unimpeded by what lies at the wayside. Added to your intelligence and wisdom, that is why…” He paused for a moment, then continued, “People say that the people of the Yu Family are those who serve to assist the emperor. Whether that is a false claim or truly the heavenly duty of the Yu Family’s people — I, Yu Wuyuan, recognize only you as the master of all under heaven.”

Huang Chao looked at him, and after a long while, smiled again — but it was a smile carrying a deeper meaning. “I recall that day on the Wuyi Terrace, you once said ‘how can two kings ever walk in step?’ Feng Wang and King Xi cannot coexist, and yet you and I can walk together — because you are the supporter and I am the one supported?”

“Heaven and earth are so vast and boundless, and ten thousand living things teem and bustle within them. And yet heaven and earth are so narrow and confined — they cannot accommodate even two kings at once.” That desolate, boundless quality appeared once more in Yu Wuyuan’s eyes, as though he had seen through every tiresome affair of this mortal world, and yet at the same time seemed to pierce through the ten thousand layers of it. “As you cannot accommodate King Xi, as King Xi cannot accommodate you — how much less could those two, given what they are. Baifeng Heixi — ten years in the rivers and lakes, yet the line between friend and foe was never clear. How much harder for those occupying so precarious and elevated a position as rulers of a nation? They have been entangled and bound together so long that they can no longer distinguish between each other, nor even distinguish their own identities clearly. Given that — how could they ever see clearly what they themselves must do? If only one is to remain, then he will have to share the realm in two with you. But those two, who can no longer be distinguished from each other — if one is removed, it is like discarding half of oneself. One suffers, both suffer. One perishes, both perish. That is why I did not stop you…” His voice faded. He could not continue.

“That is why you did not stop that arrow of mine.” Huang Chao understood perfectly. “If the Feng Wang dies, King Xi loses half of himself — and on top of that, his reason will be shattered and his heart will be in agony. In such a state, he would be easily crushed.”

It was only after a long silence that Yu Wuyuan spoke softly: “Yes. Time is not long now. I have said that I would help you hold the realm in your hands — I will naturally fulfill that promise.”

“What do you mean, time is not long?” Huang Chao’s heart gave a sudden lurch. His golden eyes snapped onto Yu Wuyuan.

“Oh…” Yu Wuyuan smiled, a light and distant smile. “If too much time passes, the snow at the summit of Changmang Shan may have melted. I want to see the snow on the highest mountain in the world.”

“Oh?” Huang Chao looked Yu Wuyuan over carefully from head to foot, and only after finding nothing unusual about him did he let his worry go. “I have heard that a deep blue orchid grows at the summit of Changmang Shan — the finest variety of orchid in existence. Once we have ascended the mountain, we will be able to admire the snow and appreciate the orchids. A scene like that would surely be one that comes but once in a lifetime.”

“Changmang Shan’s summit with Changmang’s snow. Within Changmang’s snow, the deep blue orchid. Beside the deep blue orchid, Changmang’s chessgame. Changmang’s chessgame awaiting Changmang’s master… the master of Changmang…” Yu Wuyuan poured all that boundless and exhausted look from his eyes into the clouds of the tent canopy, then gently closed his eyes. “The master of Changmang at the summit of Changmang Shan — I will live to see it.”

Huang Chao looked at him, then rose and called out: “Someone, come!”

A guard immediately lifted the tent flap and entered.

Huang Chao walked to the writing table, spread paper, raised his brush, and wrote in a single uninterrupted sweep.

“Have someone deliver this letter to General Qiu at Kang City by xinghuoling!”

“Yes!”

On the sixteenth day, the Fengmo army launched its assault with the Fengyun Cavalry at the vanguard. White mourning banners stretched across the sky like clouds. White funeral garments were as pervasive as fallen snow. The Phoenix banner unfurled and snapped. Killing intent seethed and surged. The Fengyun Cavalry, having lost their queen, swore to avenge their sovereign.

The Huanghua army held firm with the Golden Armor formation, not daring to meet their cutting edge.

On the seventeenth day, the Fengmo army launched its assault again with the Fengyun Cavalry at the vanguard — ferocious in momentum, surging like a raging tide.

The Huanghua army held with the Golden Armor formation and did not strike back.

On the eighteenth day, the Fengmo army mounted its attack once more, with the Fengyun Cavalry as the leading force.

The Huanghua army held with the Nine Cycles formation and did not strike back.

On the same day, Qiu Jiushuang and Xiao Xuekong received the Huang Wang’s xinghuoling at Kang City, declaring the Feng Wang’s death and ordering them to hold the city firmly.

On the nineteenth day, the Fengmo army did not attack.

The Huanghua army waited in stillness for their move.

On the twentieth day, the Fengmo army launched a combined assault, appearing to have every intention of wiping out the enemy forces in a single decisive blow.

The Huanghua army finally moved to meet them.

The two armies clashed for a full day. The result was once again an even match — no side held a clear advantage, and both suffered small losses.

On the twenty-first day, Qiu Jiushuang received another xinghuoling from the Huang Wang. The Fengmo army had launched a continuous series of assaults at Dongdan Crossing. The army driven by vengeance was attacking with ferocious force, heedless of its own casualties, creating a considerable headache. She was therefore ordered to lead her troops to attack Jing City — a flanking maneuver to relieve the pressure at the main point by threatening what the enemy cared about elsewhere.

Qiu Jiushuang set out with thirty thousand Zheng Tian Cavalry. Xiao Xuekong remained behind with ten thousand troops to hold Kang City.

On the twenty-second day, the weather turned cold.

When the door was pushed open at dawn, it was discovered that small snow had begun to fall — fine and soft, drifting and floating, laying a thin layer of white across the earth.

A palm was extended, wanting to catch the snow descending from the sky — and saw instead the figure in the treetop.

White clothes, black hair, poised in the wind — graceful as an immortal figure, seeming both real and not quite real.

In that instant, an irresistible surge of wild elation welled up in his heart.

But the very next moment, ice flooded through him. His heart sharpened; his mind cleared. In an instant, the clash of metal and the thunder of horses filled his ears, and before his eyes, wind and snow whirled madly in all directions.

She was not dead. Jiushuang had left the city. She was appearing at this very moment.

That could only mean one thing: Kang City was in grave danger.

“Although it is snowing, I know the sky above is bluer than it has ever been.” The figure in the treetop raised her face toward the sky. Her voice was extremely light, yet through the howling wind and swirling snow it reached his ear with perfect clarity. “There is blue sky, there is white snow, and there is the cleanest wind blowing in from the northernmost ice-peaks. Xue Kong — a day this pristine suits you perfectly. Was this snow sent down today for you?”

He gripped the sword at his waist and drew it out slowly, inch by inch. The crystal-bright blade reflected the dancing snowflakes — beautiful and dreamlike and beguiling.

“As long as you do not step out of this courtyard, I will not make a move.” Xiyun looked down from above at the person in the courtyard below, straight as a sword, still and cold as snow.

“Has the attack on the city already begun?” Xiao Xuekong’s voice fell like ice striking stone — clear and crisp and resonant, without warmth.

“Yes. Kang City is not only a strategically vital location that every military commander must contend for — for King Xi, it holds an additional significance. Therefore, after he and I pacified the Duanhun Gate in those past years, he left a reserve army within the city for this very day. And now that I have appeared here, you should know that your cause is already without hope.” Xiyun said this calmly. None of this needed to be explained — and yet she said it anyway. Perhaps she still hoped he would lay down his sword, even though she knew that was impossible.

“The King told me that Kang City has another road leading to Changmang Shan — one left by his venerable master, the Earthly Elder, in the years when he would ascend the mountain to observe the stars and play chess with the Heavenly Elder. It is the road leading to the Changmang chess game, and therefore it absolutely cannot be lost.” Xiao Xuekong also spoke with calm steadiness.

“Though the Zheng Tian Cavalry is formidable, without its commanding general present — and with the Mo Yu Cavalry far greater in number — Kang City would be difficult to hold regardless.” Xiyun stretched out her hand and caught a drifting snowflake, watching it dissolve slowly into her palm. “Xue Kong — stay here with me and watch the snow in quiet.”

“To admire the snow together with Bai Fengxi — that would truly be an incomparable blessing for Xue Kong. But…” His brow arched upward, and he spoke with composure and resolve: “I hold the position of Sweeping Snow General of Huangguo. When soldiers fight valiantly and lay down their lives, what kind of general would hang back and refuse to step forward? And I am a subject of the Huang Wang — a subject’s duty is to give full strength and full loyalty to his sovereign.” His long sword rang out of the scabbard — shing! — and he stood motionless in the wind and snow, still as a pillar.

“Even knowing that the outcome is annihilation?” The tone was gentle — but the words spoken were absolute and final.

“Yes!” The answer came with the certainty of iron striking iron. Within those pellucid eyes, wind and snow seemed to gather — and the blue of the sky was drawn deep within. “And to do battle against the Feng Wang, whose wisdom, talent, and martial skill are without equal in this age — Xue Kong will have no regrets.”

Xiyun looked at that sword, and that solitary figure. After a long while she gave a quiet sigh: “Sweeping Snow General’s ‘Snow Sweeping Sword Art’ is a rarity in this world. Xiyun has been indolent all her life and has never applied herself diligently to the sword — and so I have no technique I can compare with the General’s. ” She paused briefly, then continued: “My nation’s royal guard Zhe Di has never entered the world at large, yet his martial arts, measured against all under heaven, are among those one could count on a single hand. He has lived in seclusion on Shallow Jade Mountain for ten years and developed an original ‘Jade Mountain Supreme Sword Art’ that has never met its match. Today I will use his ‘Jade Mountain Sword’ to meet the General’s ‘Snow Sweeping Sword’ — which I hope will not dishonor you.” A flick of the wrist, and Fenghen Sword left its scabbard. Even the swirling snow across the sky could not conceal that single thread of light red.

The snow seemed to fall heavier. The wind seemed to blow more fiercely.

One person stood still in the courtyard. One person poised lightly in the treetop.

One sword crystalline-bright as ice. One sword clear-bright as autumn water.

One face with furrowed brow, cold and stern. One face tranquil and without a ripple.

Snowflakes drifted down in swirling flurries. Cold wind swept horizontally in sweeping gusts. But it did nothing to disturb the perfectly straight posture of those two figures — one with their sword planted like a mountain, one with sword held horizontal like a ribbon of silk. The wind and snow whirled and swept, and yet not a single petal of snow fell upon either person. Not even the swords were touched by so much as the slightest trace.

From the distance came the faint sounds — sounds of killing, sounds of blades clashing, the agonized cries of people in pain.

And then the sound of urgent footsteps, and the sound of violent, gasping breath.

“Boom — boom — General! General! Kang City has been breached! General! General! Are you there? Boom — boom!”

Outside the gate, someone was hammering furiously on the door planks, crying out in a voice worn ragged, but the door, no matter how hard one knocked or pushed or pulled, would not open. From within, no matter how loud one called, no one answered.

“General! General! Are you there at all? There are traitors inside the city — they struck from both sides at once. The Mo Yu army has broken through. Our forces are overwhelmed — we simply cannot hold them back! General—” The voice suddenly cut off. Outside the gate, there came a heavy thud — something falling. Perhaps a weapon. Perhaps a person.

The figure in the courtyard, who had kept his brow furrowed without moving, finally could restrain himself no longer. In one instant, the person shot forward like a sword — and the sword shot forward like lightning.

The figure in the treetop moved as well. Watching the sword-light bearing down, in that instant she gave a soft, quiet sigh — and the long sword in her hand swept out with equal softness and quiet, a move of effortless ease — and yet as immovable as a mountain, sealing off every line of attack entirely.

The ice-bright blade blazed fierce as fire. The autumn-water-clear blade flowed free as wind. Whether like fire or like wind, each sword strike split stone and pierced cloud. The wind was sliced apart and let out a howling shriek. The snow was cut through and gave a desolate cry.

In that moment, the small courtyard erupted into a tempest of wind and snow — cold light blazed and flickered, figures moved like specters, and sword energy swept in every direction.

In that moment, no one could approach the small courtyard. There was nothing left in all the world but the snowflakes tumbling through the sky — and the sword intent that blanketed heaven and earth.

Then all at once, a pure and brilliant thread of singing voice pierced through the sword energy, broke through the wind and snow, and drifted gently out across the world:

“A sword — It pierces the blue sky; the blade remains unbroken. Standing long in place, Through wind and snow it crosses a thousand mountains.

A sword — Grieving souls and blood shadows — all unseen. Within its sheath it sings, The frost-sharp blade reveals its splendor.

A sword — Three feet of blue steel — it chills the gallbladder. Its light flares suddenly — Like startled snow in bloom.”

Within the courtyard, snow-bright sword radiance flew in all directions, sword energy arched like a vault overhead — and yet that singing voice floated through the storm of wind and snow and sword intent, unhurried, its breath even and steady.

When the final line — like startled snow in bloom — rang out, within the wind and snow a snow lotus bloomed, its heart wrapped around a thread of red stamens. It circled lightly once through the courtyard, and in an instant, snow petals and red stamens filled the entire space, and nothing else could be seen. In the midst of that dizzying, breathtaking beauty — ding! — a clear, crisp sword cry rang out. Then the bright singing voice stopped, the wind and snow across the sky stilled, the sword energy throughout the courtyard dissipated, and everything returned to peace.

In the snow on the ground, a figure had fallen — merging with the white. Slowly, in the snow, a deep crimson began to spread and bloom — opening a blood-red lotus in all that whiteness.

The figure still standing gazed at the thread of fresh blood on the blade. She watched it congeal into a line, gather at the sword’s tip, then fall and drip into the snow. The blade became like a pool of autumn water — pellucid and bright.

“Among the wine and the lamp, I look down upon those beneath me. A lone column of smoke rises; through the years I laugh and sing my wild song.”

She recited the lines slowly, one by one, and slowly, inch by inch, shifted her gaze away. That voice was clear as a stream running through a ravine — and yet it was as soft and weightless as snowflakes drifting down from the sky, misty and melancholy, carrying a faint trace of a weariness that had weathered every sea.

“Wu Han.” She called out gently.

“Here.” A silver-armored warrior descended without a sound.

Xiyun’s gaze moved from the sky to the figure lying in the snow below. She stepped forward, crouched down, reached out, and lifted the fallen person from the snow.

She brushed back the silver hair. That face — as beautiful as a snowflake — was now in this moment also as fragile as a snowflake, seeming as though it would dissolve at a single touch. The thread of blood at the corner of his lips was startlingly vivid and red. Those eyes, once pellucid and clear, now watched her dimly, with a veil of darkness over them — and yet deep within the eyes, a thread of deep blue was hidden. Those eyes looked at her with a profound, beguiling intensity, as though countless words lay within them — and as though nothing lay within them at all, clear and empty.

“Send him to Pinyu Pavilion.”

“Yes!”

Wu Han stepped forward, lifted the person from the ground, then vaulted upward in a single movement. The figure vanished. All that remained was a blood lotus still blazing open in the snow.

After Wu Han left, Xiyun’s body wavered — and she sat down in the snow. She pressed her hand to her chest. The sharp, piercing pain caused her to knit her long brows tightly together. She held her breath and steadied herself, and only after a moment did the pain slowly begin to ebb. She let out a soft sigh: “After all — it is no longer what it was before.” She lifted her gaze toward Changmang Shan, towering unshakeable between heaven and earth. “You pledged your life for mine — and I will repay you with this Royal Road leading to the imperial throne.”

She rose, stepped lightly, and leaped over the wall. Looking into the distance, she could already see a contingent of black-armored elite cavalry bearing down like the wind. At their head rode a figure in white robes carrying a silver spear.

“Feng Wang — Kang City has been taken.” Ren Chuanyun reined in his horse and bowed in the saddle.

“Good.” A brief, unhurried nod. “How goes it on Qiao Jin’s side?”

“He said that although he intercepted Qiu Jiushuang, he was unable to achieve a complete victory. She led her main forces and escaped — they have withdrawn to Jing City.” Ren Chuanyun spoke, having secured Kang City without much difficulty himself and thus feeling fairly light of heart. And so whatever came to mind came right out of his mouth: “I suppose women do tend to be a bit more timid — and rather more impressive at running for their lives!” The words had barely left his mouth when he suddenly remembered that the person right in front of him was herself a woman. He immediately fell into a panic of tangled confusion. “Your servant — Feng Wang — your servant did not — was not — was not talking about you!” He wrestled through the sentence with considerable effort, his words stumbling all over each other, and his face flushed red with urgency and embarrassment. Not a trace of the bold and gallant spirit with which he had just killed enemies — which caused the entire contingent of generals behind him to struggle desperately not to burst out laughing.

Xiyun raised a light hand to indicate it was nothing to concern herself with. Privately, she found it rather curious that a person as deep-scheming and sharp-eyed as Ren Chuanyu could have such a straightforward and sunny-natured younger brother. Then she thought about it a little longer and understood. Perhaps it was precisely because of having a brother like that — and so he had become a person like this. Because everything that could be done for a younger brother, the older brother had already done in full.

“Put Kang City in order. Wait in readiness for King Xi’s arrival.”

“Yes!”

And while the Mo Yu Cavalry was taking Kang City, the confrontation between the Huanghua and Fengmo armies at Dongdan Crossing was also undergoing a transformation.

On the twenty-second day, the Huanghua army, which had maintained a purely defensive posture for several days, suddenly launched an assault. With the full force of their troops and with the speed of a thunderstroke too fast for the ear to catch, they initiated a sweeping all-out attack against the Fengmo army.

“When their spirit is exhausted — that is the moment to crush them!”

The Huang Wang took to the field in person. The spirit of the Huanghua army surged to the clouds.

“This is rather bad — we took a few swipes at the tiger’s head and now we have enraged it,” Ren Chuanyu murmured to herself with a rueful smile upon hearing the report. “An enraged tiger is not an easy thing to deal with.”

“Are you done complaining? Time to give the order.” He Qishu gave her a sideways look.

“I know, I know.” Ren Chuanyu composed herself. “All troops — hear my order! Full engagement, all fronts!”

“Yes!” Each general led their forces out to battle.

Ren Chuanyu climbed onto her horse as well, surveying the churning sand and snow ahead of her, and asked the guard behind her: “Has the King not yet woken?”

“We have already sent someone to inquire. Master Jiu Wei says the King will not wake until shen hour at the earliest today.” The guard answered.

“Shen hour? I can only hope—”

The sounds of battle broke out, swallowing Ren Chuanyu’s words in a sea of noise.

“What did the Strategist say?” The guard was afraid of missing some important command.

“Engage the enemy!” Ren Chuanyu turned to glance at him. On that scholarly, fair-complexioned face was the fearless resolve of a soldier.

The war drums thundered out. Battle cries shook the sky. Banners rippled and snapped. Sword and blade gleamed cold.

The Fengmo army met the assault with three separate columns — left, center, and right. The left column was led by Duanmu Wensheng and Xu Yuan; the right column by He Qishu and Cheng Zhi; the center column by Qi Shu. The three columns were joined into the Connecting Clouds formation. This formation was suited equally to attack and defense, and with Strategist Ren Chuanyu directing it with skill, the formation shifted and adjusted with flexible precision — advancing like clouds drifting lightly through the sky, attacking like a hundred beasts in full thundering charge, holding firm like walls of iron and ramparts of bronze.

The Huanghua army, meanwhile, arrayed itself into a single unbroken line — surging forward like a ferocious tide, ceaseless and relentless, with a momentum capable of swallowing mountains and rivers. As the two armies were on the verge of meeting, the tide suddenly transformed into countless crashing waves of swords. Keen, cutting points stabbed like needles into the body of the Fengmo army — and in an instant, countless small punctures pierced through the great beast’s hide. By the time the Fengmo army felt the pain and braced itself into an iron-wall defense, the tide of swords receded in a flash, reforming once again into a single sweeping wave — roaring and prowling, watching the prey before it.

The Fengmo army would certainly not sit and wait to be destroyed. They swiftly shifted their formation — holding the center column in defense while deploying the left and right flanks in simultaneous attack. The Huanghua army responded with swift precision: the surging tide fell back rapidly — with a speed comparable to the Mo Yu Cavalry’s renowned swiftness. Then, as the momentum of the Fengmo army’s left and right flank assault began to exhaust itself, the wave suddenly transformed again into ten thousand swords launching simultaneously, thrusting straight into the Fengmo army’s left and right flanks. In an instant, blood surged and roiled in the midst of the crashing tide.

“Pass the order — left and right flanks to turtle defense. Center column: Horizontal Rope.”

“Yes!”

The signal officers relayed the order with speed. Instantly the Fengmo army shifted formations, withdrawing every line of assault. The entire army shifted to full defense, keeping the ten thousand surging sword waves outside the formation’s perimeter.

“Can it truly be that we cannot withstand the Huang Wang’s all-out assault?” Ren Chuanyu looked ahead at the battlefield.

Though the Huanghua army’s attack had been halted, it came like a tide — wave after wave, one after another, launching its ten thousand sword waves at the Fengmo army’s defensive lines over and over. Those waves were not only relentless but dense and sharp — even the most hardened iron wall would eventually be pierced through with holes. And once a gap appeared, the surging water would come pouring in — let alone a tide that grew more ferocious with every wave.

“It is a matter of spirit and momentum.”

A sudden voice from behind — she turned, and saw Qi Shu coming toward her, sword in hand.

“Huangguo’s Zheng Tian Cavalry has always been renowned for its ferocity and valor. On top of that, the Huang Wang himself has taken the field in person — their morale is soaring, their fighting spirit surges to the sky. Whereas our army has been on the attack for several consecutive days, and our spirit has long since been worn down. Added to the absence of both our kings, the hearts of the soldiers are unsettled and afraid — and so we cannot match the Huanghua army’s boldness and valor.” Qi Shu said this in one full breath, his gaze looking steadily at Ren Chuanyu. “Moreover, neither you nor I are a match for the Huang Wang. Whether in setting formations or shifting them, we cannot match his swiftness, decisiveness, and flexibility. And the Huang Wang possesses a commanding, all-encompassing dominance that causes soldiers to follow and trust him without any reason being needed.”

“Hey — in the middle of a decisive battle, save the defeatist talk for later. And as the commanding general of the center column — shouldn’t you be standing at the very front?” Ren Chuanyu looked at him with mild exasperation.

“I am not speaking defeatist words — it is that your own heart has already begun to waver. Facing the Huang Wang’s overwhelming dominance, you have already lost your confidence.” Qi Shu’s gaze was unwavering as it met hers. He turned his hand over, and a dark jade command token appeared in his palm. “I am here to relay the King’s order: the moment the enemy falters — retreat.”

Ren Chuanyu’s expression changed. Her sharp gaze fixed on Qi Shu with piercing intensity. Qi Shu returned the stare without the slightest wavering.

“I know you are loyal to King Xi and would never be willing to lose Dongdan. But if you fight here to the death against the Huang Wang, you may be able to hold this half of Dongdan — but our army will suffer more than half its casualties.” Qi Shu spoke each word with deliberate gravity. “If it comes to that, what face will you have to show King Xi?”

Ren Chuanyu’s fists tightened. She stared fixedly at Qi Shu. Only after a long moment did she loosen her fists and let out a breath.

Qi Shu, seeing this, knew his purpose was achieved. He turned his horse to head back, then paused and looked back: “Strategist Ren — your abilities are clear to all who see them. That we have held Dongdan until today is to your great credit. But… if both kings were together as one, today’s situation would never have come to pass. And so you should know — a subject keeps a subject’s principles; a subject fulfills a subject’s duty.”

On the twenty-second day, at wei hour, the Fengmo army withdrew fifty li from Dongdan Crossing.

The Huanghua army crossed Cangyou Lake and took up positions in Cangshu City.

At the end of shen hour, King Xi regained consciousness. The Fengmo army let out a great collective sigh of relief.

The next day, the news of the loss of Dongdan and the news of the Feng Wang’s survival, along with the news of the fall of Kang City, were relayed respectively to Kang City and Dongdan. In that moment, each side smiled once — a smile in which bitter and glad were mixed in equal measure.

“They say that where something is gained, something is also lost.” Yu Wuyuan stood on the city walls of Cangshu City, looking out across the distant, profound blue of Cangyou Lake, and spoke with tranquil ease — as though the outcome did not surprise him at all. “Around Wang Shan of Changmang there are four cities. You hold Cangshu and Jing City. He holds Kang City and Jing City. With Wang Shan as the boundary between you, you and he now each hold exactly half the realm — and each holds one Royal Road. This is precisely what the Heavenly Elder and Earthly Elder once read in the stars, and precisely what the chess game left half-finished at the summit of Changmang Shan shows — two players perfectly matched, each holding an equal half.”

Huang Chao said nothing. He looked up in silence at Changmang Shan towering above him — covered in white snow, like a mountain of jade, majestic and soaring, a single pillar holding up the sky.

“Huang Chao — go to the summit of Changmang Shan. The answer will be there for you. The answer that both of you seek is there.”