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

This time I went out.

Ye Yun now understood why the Wilderness World possessed such power.

The demon race reproduces rapidly and possesses an innate talent for cultivation. Even a small tribe can have demons at the Jade Purity Realm, not to mention many more at the Golden Core and Nascent Soul stages.

However, in this vast world of humanity, even a Nascent Soul cultivator is extremely rare.

Ye Yun had run all the way back from the depths of the wilderness. He had no injuries, but he was covered in blood, which soaked through his blue robe. This blood was from the demon race.

He didn't know how many demons he had killed back then.

He suppressed his aura, fearing that he might attract the attention of the Ascended Realm demons. If he were discovered by several Ascended Realm demons, he would surely die.

Because Zhou Mi would definitely not let this opportunity slip by.

His attempt to retrieve the sword this time was very risky.

Even Zhou Mi could not have imagined that he had just threatened Ye Yun, and that he would dare to venture alone into the heart of the wilderness in just a few days.

When Ye Yun returned to the Sword Qi Great Wall alone, he shocked everyone because his entire body was covered in blood.

Dong Bude stood on the city wall, the morning breeze blowing his gray hair and his old, faded short jacket. His back was hunched, like an old tree bent by the wind.

When he saw Ye Yun return, his hand rested on the edge of the barricade, veins bulging and knuckles turning white.

When Ye Yun stepped onto the city wall, Dong Bu did not move.

He just stood there, his cloudy old eyes fixed on the sword in Ye Yun's arms, a white scabbard with plum blossom patterns, and a sword wrapped with black threads.

Five hundred years have passed. He has dreamed of it for five hundred years, thought about it for five hundred years, and regretted it for five hundred years. Now it is right in front of him, but he dares not move.

Ye Yun walked up to him and handed "Winter Plum" to him with both hands.

"Old Dong, your sword."

Dong Bude's lips were trembling. He stretched out his hands, and those hands were also trembling.

The moment he took the scabbard, his fingers touched the cold bone surface, as if burned. He quickly pulled back, then immediately stretched out again and gripped it tightly, as if afraid it would slip away.

He held the sword horizontally in front of him, looking down at it. The plum blossom pattern on the scabbard was mostly worn away, with only a few blossoms still faintly discernible. The silk thread on the hilt was blackened and brittle, crumbling at the slightest touch. The tassels had long since rotted away, leaving only a small end of thread hanging from the pommel.

Dong Bude gently stroked the plum blossom pattern on the sword sheath with his thumb.

"Ruoxue..." he murmured, his voice hoarse like sandpaper scraping against a stone.

He slowly drew his longsword; the blade was gleaming, and five hundred years had left no trace on it.

The sword's blade faintly emanated the sword intent of blooming plum blossoms. That was the last wisp of sword intent that Mei Ruoxue left in the sword, like snowflakes falling, like plum blossoms blooming, like a person laughing.

Dong Bude stared at the sword intent, tears blurring his vision. He recalled the first time he saw her: dressed in white, standing atop the city wall, she had single-handedly killed three Nascent Soul Realm demons, covered in blood, and smiling like a child.

Ye Yun shook his head.

If it weren't for Dong Bude, he might already be dead.

Dong Bu put his sword back in its sheath, held it in his arms, and sat down on the city wall.

He leaned against the battlements, gazing into the distant wilderness, where the valley where she had died in battle lay, where she had shed her last drop of blood. He sat there, motionless, like a stone statue.

Ye Yun didn't disturb him. He leaned against the nearby battlement, took out a small wine flask from his pocket, and drank alone, keeping the old man company.

As the sun rose higher, the fog dissipated.

The wind on the city wall was strong, blowing Dong Bude's white hair wildly, but he didn't care. He just held his sword and looked into the distance.

After a long time, he suddenly spoke.

"Young Ye, thank you."

The sound was very soft, as soft as the wind blowing through withered leaves.

"Thank me, then stay with me a little longer."

Dong didn't say anything more.

He sat for a while longer, then slowly stood up. His legs were a little numb, so he stood up very slowly, holding onto the edge of the stack, and straightening his back little by little.

He carefully held "Winter Plum" in his arms, then turned and walked down the city wall.

After taking a few steps, he suddenly stopped without looking back.

"I'm going to sit in front of Ruoxue's cenotaph for a while, do you want to come?"

Ye Yun nodded and said, "Go."

The two walked down the city wall one after the other, crossed the long street, and arrived at the foot of the city wall.

There was a simple cemetery there, with no tombstones or burial mounds, only shallow pits and wooden plaques stuck in front of them. The words on the plaques had been worn away by wind and rain, leaving only blurry engravings.

Mei Ruoxue's cenotaph is located at the deepest part of the cemetery, near the base of the city wall.

There was no wooden plaque in front of the grave, only a brick knocked off the city wall, standing upright in the ground, with three characters engraved on it—"Mei Ruoxue".

The characters are crooked and uneven; they were carved by Dong Bude. Five hundred years ago, when he carved these characters, his hand was trembling, and the characters were carved in varying depths, like a scar that would never heal.

Dong Bu knelt down in front of the grave, placed "Winter Plum" in front of the tomb, the scabbard touching the soil, the plum blossom patterns gleaming faintly in the sunlight.

"Ruoxue, your sword is back. Don't worry, I'll come find you soon."

His voice was calm, as if he were talking about something very ordinary.

Ye Yun stood aside, watching the old man's back, a feeling he couldn't quite describe welling up inside him.

He thought of Pu She, the mountain peak of Xuezhong Dongtian, and the way the woman in white smiled as she turned back. His eyes stung, and he turned his head away so that Dong Bude wouldn't see.

Dong Bude sat in front of the grave for a long time.

He pulled out the "Winter Plum" sword, placed it on his lap, and wiped the blade with his hand again and again. The sword was already very clean, but he kept wiping it, as if he wanted to wipe away five hundred years of dust.

"Ruoxue, do you remember?" he said softly, "When you were teaching me swordsmanship, I could never get it right, and you would stomp your feet in frustration."

He smiled, but there were tears in his smile.

"Ruoxue, I miss you."

The wind rustled through the cemetery, and the blue bricks on the city wall gleamed coldly in the sunlight. The dense sword marks resembled a face covered in scars.

In the distance, the shouts of sword cultivators and the clanging of weapons echoed from the city walls. Everything was the same as it had been five hundred years ago, yet nothing was the same anymore.

Dong Bu sheathed his sword and carefully placed it in front of the grave. He stood up, brushed the dirt off his knees, and turned to look at Ye Yun. His eyes were red, but no longer tearing.

"Let's go back and have a drink."

Ye Yun nodded.

The two walked back to the tavern side by side. Dong Bu walked slower than usual, each step steady, as if he were walking on clouds.

His arms were empty; the sword he had held for five hundred years was gone, but he walked away with a steady heart.

In the tavern, Ye Yun took the "Reincarnation" wine from the wine rack and poured a cup for Dong Bude.

Dong Bu picked up his wine glass, took a sip, squinted his eyes, and showed an expression that Ye Yun had never seen before. He wasn't drunk; it was as if he had walked a long way and could finally sit down and rest.

"Young Ye, that's enough for this lifetime."

Ye Yun poured herself a glass and clinked glasses with him.

"Old Dong, I salute you."

Dong couldn't help but laugh.

Ye Yun didn't disturb him any further. He stood up, walked to the door, and let him process everything on his own.