One person: Starting with the Snow Drinking Blade

Zhang Chulan stood there, watching the old man's departing figure, motionless for a long time.

His back resembled a tree nailed to the spot, unmoved by the wind or the rain.

"That person is not simple," Nie Lingfeng said in a low voice as he walked to his side. His gaze was also fixed on the direction where the old man had disappeared, his brows furrowed slightly, as if he were deep in thought.

"I know." Zhang Chulan took a deep breath, as if replenishing the oxygen he had used up while speaking. "He knows my grandfather, he knows Wugensheng... He is very likely one of the people who experienced it firsthand back then. There aren't many people from that era left who are still alive today."

"Are you going tomorrow?" Chen Duo asked.

"I'll go." Zhang Chulan answered without hesitation. His answer was as crisp as cutting tofu, without pause, hesitation, or "maybe." "I finally found someone who knows the truth, I have to go."

"I'll go with you," Nie Lingfeng said.

"No need, Brother Nie. He must have his reasons for sending me alone. Besides, if I go alone, he might reveal more. Bringing too many people might scare him away."

He paused, the corners of his mouth curving slightly, but the smile didn't reach his eyes.

"A person who has lived that long has seen more people and things than all of us combined. If he doesn't want to talk, even holding a knife to his throat won't help. If he wants to talk, he can go alone."

Nie Lingfeng pondered for a moment, then nodded.

"Then be careful. If anything happens, signal immediately."

"Don't worry, I'm not a three-year-old anymore." Zhang Chulan grinned. The smile seemed no different from usual, but if you looked closely, there was a hint of seriousness in his eyes—like a thin layer of mist obscuring the water beneath.

As night deepened, the market on Nathan Island became even more lively.

Various vendors lit their lamps—kerosene lamps, carbide lamps, and strings of LED beads—each emitting a different color of light: warm yellow, pale white, and bluish-green. The lights intertwined, casting dappled shadows on the ground, like someone drawing a chaotic picture on black paper with colored pens.

The air was filled with the aroma of grilled meat and spices. Someone had set up a grill, the charcoal fire flickering in the wind, and the grease from the grilling meat dripped onto the charcoal, hissing and sending plumes of white smoke drifting into the night sky. Several stalls sold local specialties, wrapped in banana leaves, filled with rice and some kind of unidentified meat filling, emitting a strong lemongrass scent.

Loud music and laughter emanated from some taverns, occasionally punctuated by shouts of arguing and fighting. Someone was thrown out of a tavern, landing on the muddy street, groaning, getting up, dusting off their clothes, and going back inside. Others stood in the street arguing loudly, pointing fingers at each other, hurling insults, and then attacking, the sound of fists colliding echoing in the night.

Nie Lingfeng and his group found a relatively clean hotel on the edge of the market and booked the entire second floor.

The inn was a two-story wooden building with whitewashed exterior walls, some of which had peeled off to reveal the blackened wood underneath. The main entrance consisted of two thick wooden doors with gleaming brass knockers. A kerosene lamp hung by the door, its flame flickering in the wind and casting swaying shadows on the doors.

The room wasn't large, but it was fairly tidy. The bed was wooden, covered with white sheets that were very clean and smelled of soap. On the bedside table were a kerosene lamp and a ceramic kettle, steam still rising from the spout, indicating that the water had just been boiled. The wooden floor creaked underfoot, making a soft, groaning sound, like someone speaking softly.

After the rooms were assigned, everyone rested.

Nie Lingfeng stood on the second-floor balcony, gazing at the brightly lit market below.

The balcony was small, barely enough for two or three people to stand side by side. The railing was made of wood, painted a dark brown, with some small cracks on the surface, marks left by sun and rain. He placed his hand on the railing, his fingers applying slight pressure, feeling the rough texture of the wood against his fingertips.

His brow furrowed slightly. The island gave him a strange feeling—it appeared chaotic and disorderly on the surface, but beneath this chaos, there seemed to be a deeper order and rules. It was like a pot of boiling porridge, with bubbles bubbling on the surface, but the fire underneath was controlled, sometimes high, sometimes low.

"Brother Lingfeng, what are you thinking about?"

Chen Duo walked to his side and asked softly. Her voice was very soft, as if she was afraid of disturbing something. She had changed into a clean, light-colored outfit, and her hair had been tied up again. She looked much more energetic than she had on the ship.

"I'm wondering why Qu Tong challenged King Nathan," Nie Lingfeng said slowly. His gaze swept across the market, landing on the faintly visible cluster of buildings in the distance—the direction of "Paradise." "She's not one to do things for nothing. She must have her reasons for doing this."

What do you think her purpose is?

"I don't know," Nie Lingfeng shook his head. A breeze blew, ruffling his hair, a few stray strands swaying between his brows. "But something that would cause a woman such a huge uproar to obtain must be extremely important. Maybe it's an island, maybe it's an object, maybe it's a person."

He paused, then turned to look at Chen Duo. The light shone from his side, illuminating half of his face in light and half in shadow, making the contours of his features stand out sharply at the boundary between light and shadow.

"When Chu Lan goes to see that old man tomorrow, follow behind him, keep your distance, and don't get spotted. That way, you can provide timely support if anything happens."

Chen Duo nodded, her gesture small but earnest: "Understood."

Nie Lingfeng then looked at the cluster of buildings that were faintly visible in the darkness in the distance.

That's the direction of "Paradise".

Nguyen Phuong was there.

The secrets of the Eight Extraordinary Techniques, the whereabouts of Wugensheng, Qu Tong's conspiracy... all the clues seem to point to this island.

He had a premonition.

This trip to Nathan Island will definitely not be peaceful.

Night deepened, and on the distant sea, moonlight stretched into a long, silvery path, leading all the way to the horizon. The wind rustled through the coconut palms, the leaves whispering like distant whispers. One by one, the lights in the market went out, and the streets emptied until only a few drunken strangers remained, staggering along and humming off-key songs.

Tomorrow will be a new day.

It could be a day when you never know what will happen.

The next morning, just as dawn was breaking, Zhang Chulan got up.

The sky outside the window was a color between gray and blue, indistinguishable between dawn and dusk. A thick fog blanketed the sea, obscuring the distant horizon. Occasionally, one or two seabirds would fly through the fog, the sound of their wings beating exceptionally clear in the quiet morning.

Without disturbing anyone, he quietly finished washing up. He used the copper basin provided by the inn to wash his face; the water was cold, and the splash made him shiver. He dried his face with a towel and looked at his blurry reflection in the basin—his eyes were still bloodshot; he hadn't slept well the night before. He changed into an inconspicuous gray outfit, tightening the cuffs and trouser legs, and tucked the "Blood Cherry" dagger he had obtained from Sato Ittosai into his waistband, covering it with his coat.

Just as she was about to leave, she found Nie Lingfeng already standing in the corridor.

Nie Lingfeng leaned against the railing, holding a cup of hot tea in his hand, a wisp of white steam rising from the rim in the morning breeze. His hair was still slightly damp, clearly he had just washed his face. He wore a dark, thin jacket, zipped up to his chest, revealing a white T-shirt underneath.

He didn't look at Zhang Chulan, but gazed at the distant sea. There was nothing on the sea, only fog, a grayish-white, boundless fog.

"Brother Nie? You're here so early?" Zhang Chulan was taken aback.

"I can't sleep," Nie Lingfeng said calmly. He took a sip of tea, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly as he made a soft gulp. "Are we leaving?"

"Yes, it's easier to get things done in the morning when there are fewer people." Zhang Chulan nodded, walked to the railing, and stood side by side with Nie Lingfeng. The wooden floor of the corridor creaked slightly under their feet. "The old man asked me to meet him at the beach, so I'll go early to show my sincerity."

Nie Lingfeng glanced at him. The glance was brief, lasting less than a second, but Zhang Chulan could feel Nie Lingfeng's gaze lingering on his face for a moment, as if confirming something.

Then he said, "Be careful. That old man may not seem like a threat, but anyone who has survived on Nathan Island until now is no ordinary person."

"I know." Zhang Chulan grinned. The smile was somewhat carefree, but his eyes were serious. "Don't worry, Brother Nie, I, Zhang Chulan, may not have many other skills, but my ability to protect myself is top-notch."

He had said this many times before, always with a smile, but this time there was something else in his smile. Perhaps it was the lingering fear from yesterday's encounter, or perhaps it was the unease about the truth he was about to face.

Nie Lingfeng didn't say anything more, only nodded. The nod was very small, so small that it was almost invisible unless you looked closely, but Zhang Chulan saw it. He turned and walked down the stairs, his footsteps echoing a few times in the empty corridor before disappearing.

Chen Duo peeked out from the next room.

She had changed into a dark outfit, and her hair was tied up tightly again, without a single stray hair falling out. Her face was expressionless, but her eyes were bright, like two cats searching for prey in the dark.

She glanced at Nie Lingfeng and whispered, "Brother Lingfeng, should I follow them?"

"Stay away from him, don't let him spot you," Nie Lingfeng said, his gaze still fixed on the grayish-white mist in the distance. "If he encounters danger, then you can intervene."

"Understood," Chen Duo replied, her figure sliding down the stairs silently like a cat. Her footsteps were almost silent, and her steps on the wooden planks felt like walking on cotton.

Nie Lingfeng stood in the corridor, gazing at the gradually whitening horizon in the distance, and took a sip of tea.

The fog was slowly and irresistibly dissipating. It changed from grayish-white to milky white, from milky white to translucent, and finally became a thin, gauze-like layer hanging on the outlines of the coconut palms and distant mountains. Sunlight shone through the fog, bathing the entire world in a pale golden light.

The mornings on Nathan Island are eerily quiet.

It wasn't the kind of silence where "no one speaks," but a silence devoid of life. There were no birdsong, no insect chirps, no rustling of leaves in the wind. The sound of waves crashing on the beach drifted from afar, repeating rhythmically, like some ancient lullaby.