A Man in the Snow: Starting with a Sword Challenge to the Northern Liang Prince's Palace

A ferry from the Vast World docked at the ferry crossing outside the Sword Qi Great Wall. The ship carried several boxes of goods and a dozen passengers, most of whom were merchants. There was only one exception: a down-on-his-luck scholar who said he was going to the Sword Qi Great Wall to visit relatives.

When he disembarked at the ferry, he was carrying a stack of old books in his arms and clutching a crumpled letter in his hand.

Besides the letter to his family, the letter also contained several pieces of paper torn from the official gazette, printed with announcements issued by the Dali court.

After reading the letter, the scholar casually stuffed the few pieces of paper into his book and walked through the gates of the Sword Qi Great Wall.

That evening, several sword cultivators were drinking at a tavern. One of them was a clerk from the city defense camp, who was responsible for copying news from various places.

After a few drinks, he became more talkative, pulling out several crumpled pieces of paper from his pocket and slapping them on the table.

"That young man surnamed Chen from Lizhu Cave Heaven has been accepted as a disciple by the lineage of the Sage of Literature!"

The tavern fell silent for a moment.

Someone asked, "Which one is surnamed Chen?"

The document says, "Who else could it be? The one from Mud Bottle Lane. The one who broke the Bridge of Immortality and killed the Fairy of Cloud Cloud Mountain, Chen Ping'an."

The tavern erupted in chaos.

Some people didn't believe it, saying that how could a good-for-nothing who had lost his bridge to immortality be favored by the lineage of the Sage of Literature?

Some people exclaimed in amazement, saying that this kid was really lucky, with Qi Jingchun protecting him and the Wensheng lineage also protecting him.

Ye Yun was wiping ceramic bowls behind the counter.

His hand paused for a moment, then continued wiping, stroke by stroke, very slowly and steadily.

Ning Yao pushed the door open and came in at that moment.

She stood at the doorway, backlit, so her expression was obscured. But the sharp, sword-like aura emanating from her, like a drawn sword, silenced the entire tavern.

The gossiping sword cultivators wisely shut their mouths and lowered their heads to continue drinking. Ning Yao walked to the counter, sat down, and looked at Ye Yun.

"Boss Ye, you've heard?" Her voice held a suppressed emotion.

Ye Yun put down the ceramic bowl, took the wine pot from the wine rack, poured her a cup, and pushed it towards her.

"I've heard about it."

Ning Yao picked up her wine glass and took a sip.

Her fingers trembled slightly, and the wine swirled in the glass, reflecting her young, spirited face.

She put down her wine glass, looked at Ye Yun, and there was something in her eyes that Ye Yun was very familiar with—happiness, but it was more than just happiness.

"Chen Ping'an, he can cultivate now, so he shouldn't have to die." Ning Yao's voice was very soft, as if she were telling a secret.

Ye Yun nodded. He was the protagonist; how could he die?

Ning Yao looked at him and suddenly asked, "Are you unhappy?"

Ye Yun was silent for a moment. He remembered the boy in Mud Bottle Alley, the thin boy covered in wounds, squatting at the alley entrance holding a wine jug.

He recalled the calmness with which the boy said "hatred is useless," the resoluteness with which the boy rushed toward the mountain-moving ape with the porcelain shard in his hand, and the silence with which the boy stood at the town entrance watching Ning Yao leave.

"Of course I'm happy, but the road ahead is long, and this is just the beginning."

Ning Yao was stunned.

She looked at him for a long time.

"You're always like this, seeing things so far ahead."

Ye Yun didn't reply, but simply poured her another glass of wine.

After Ning Yao finished her drink, she stood up and left. When she reached the door, she suddenly stopped and did not turn around.

"Boss Ye, thank you for helping him."

Ye Yun looked at her slender back without asking her what she was thanking him for.

Is it to thank him for instructing on swordsmanship, or to thank him for protecting Chen Ping'an in the Lizhu Cave Heaven, or to thank him for saying "the road ahead is long"? Perhaps it is all of these, or perhaps none of them.

"Go! Practice your swordsmanship diligently."

Ning Yao nodded and pushed open the door to go out.

As night deepened, the drinkers dispersed.

Ye Yun closed the door, turned off the lights, and climbed the city wall alone.

The moonlight was beautiful, shining on the mottled city bricks with a cold, white glow. He walked to the third crenellation on the left of the northern section of the city wall, the spot where Dong Bude usually sat. He sat down cross-legged, took out a pot of wine, and began to drink.

He didn't know when it started, but he liked to drink. He uncorked the bottle, took a sip, let the liquid linger on his tongue for a moment, and then slowly swallowed it.

He gazed in the direction of the vast world. In that direction, thousands of miles away, lay the capital of Dali, an academy, and a young man cultivating.

Now, the boy has started walking. Not being carried or supported, but walking on his own.

He walked forward step by step, stepping on pebbles, stepping on mud, stepping on the spittle of those who looked down on him.

Ye Yun took another sip of wine.

"Chen Ping'an, I hope you can hurry. Your enemies are all formidable, including me."

In the distance, the sky over this desolate land was covered with dark clouds, the crimson clouds hanging low like congealed blood.

Lightning flashed deep within the clouds, and muffled thunder rumbled faintly, as if something was brewing.

Ye Yun ignored them. He simply sat atop the city wall, drinking the last of his wine, gazing towards the vast world.

The moonlight shone on him, casting a long shadow on the city wall, overlapping with the dense sword marks.

He recalled Qi Jingchun's words: "That child will remember you in the future."

He smiled and raised the wine jug towards the moon.

"Whether you remember or not is not important. Just live well, that's enough."

He finished the last drop of wine in the jug and placed the empty jug on the crenellation. The night wind blew in, carrying the stench of the wilderness and the smoke of torches from the city walls. He sat there, gazing into the distance, motionless.

The moon slowly moved westward, from east to west, from overhead to the horizon. The torches on the city walls burned all night, being replaced one after another.

The swordsman on night watch walked past him. Someone recognized him and slowed their pace so as not to disturb him.

He sat there all night.

As dawn broke, Ye Yun stood up. His legs were a little numb, and his joints cracked a few times. He stretched his limbs, dusted himself off, picked up the empty wine jug, and turned to walk down from the city wall.

Behind them, the bugle call of the Sword Qi Great Wall sounded. It was the first bugle call of the morning, deep and long, like a sleeping giant awakening. A new day had begun.

On the city walls, the swordsmen began their changing of the guard. Some awoke from their sleep, rubbing their eyes as they walked towards the walls. Others, covered in blood, had just come down from the battlefield and were exhausted as they returned to their camp. Still others stood by the crenellations, gazing towards the wilderness, waiting for the sun to rise.

Ye Yun walked along the long street, past the shops that hadn't opened yet, and past the breakfast stalls that were already bustling with activity. The old lady selling steamed buns smiled at him, and he nodded, continuing on his way.

When he returned to the tavern, it was already broad daylight. He pushed open the door, placed the empty jug back on the counter, and although it was already dawn, he had a habit of keeping a lamp lit in the tavern. That lamp stayed lit from morning till night, like a silent promise.

He stood behind the counter, gazing at the sunlight streaming through the window.

The sun shone brightly, casting a golden glow on the sword-wielding Great Wall, its mottled bricks. In the distance, dark clouds still churned in the direction of the wilderness, rumbling with distant thunder. But at this moment, the sun blazed fiercely, illuminating every sword mark on the wall, every name, every drop of blood still damp with dew.

Ye Yun withdrew his gaze and began brewing wine.

He poured the glutinous rice into the vat, sprinkled in the yeast, and channeled his sword intent, allowing the gentle power to flow from his fingertips into the vat. The aroma of the wine permeated the tavern in the early morning, mingling with the sunlight.

Ye Yun sealed the wine jar, wiped his hands, walked to the window, and opened it.

The morning breeze blew in, carrying the unique chill of the Great Wall of Swords.

He stood there, gazing at the city wall, at the sunlight, and at the distant sky filled with rolling dark clouds.

A new day has begun.