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

The pursuers caught up in the latter half of the night. They weren't the Demon Ancestor, but a scouting party of the demon race, three to five hundred strong, led by two Jade Purity Realm experts. They had been chasing the group all night, drawn by the scent of blood, and finally caught up with the rear of the column in the wasteland.

Ah Liang was the first to spot it. He brought up the rear, a blade of grass dangling from his mouth, his ears perked up. Hearing movement behind him, he stopped, crouched down, and placed his hand on the ground. The ground trembled slightly, but rhythmically, like the sound of horses' hooves. He stood up, spat out the grass, and drew his sword. "They're here."

He glanced back at Zuo You, then without hesitation, turned and walked to A Liang's side. The two stood side by side at the back of the group, facing the surging black tide from the darkness. A Liang's sword was fast, but Zuo You's was even faster; the two sword lights flashed alternately in the darkness, and with each flash, a demonic beast fell to the ground. But there were too many pursuers; one wave was killed, and another wave came, seemingly endless.

Chen Ping'an walked in the middle of the group, carrying Ye Yun on his back. Hearing the sounds of fighting behind him, he paused. Ning Yao, walking ahead of him, turned back to look at him: "You go, I'll go help them." Chen Ping'an shook his head: "You're injured." Ning Yao's left arm was still in a sling, her right hand gripping a sword, her face pale, but her eyes were stubborn. "I can still fight."

Chen Ping'an looked into her eyes and remained silent for a second. "Be careful."

Ning Yao turned and ran towards the back of the group. After a few steps, she stopped, turned back and said, "You too," before disappearing into the darkness.

The group continued forward, but at a slower pace. Those at the back were fighting, and those at the front dared not move too quickly for fear of falling behind. Chen Ping'an carried Ye Yun in the middle, able to hear the clanging of swords and the howls of the demons behind them, one after another, like the urgent beat of a death knell.

After Ning Yao joined the battle, the situation stabilized. A Liang and Zuo You held the front lines, while Ning Yao finished off the remaining enemies. The three worked together seamlessly, repelling wave after wave of attacks. However, Ning Yao's left arm was severed, forcing her to wield her sword only with her right hand. After a while, her hand trembled, and her grip on the sword became unsteady. A wolf demon pounced from the side; she dodged, slicing off half of the wolf demon's face with a backhand strike, but her right shoulder was slashed by another beast's claw, tearing her skin and drawing blood. She groaned, but didn't retreat, continuing to fight.

Ah Liang saw this, cursed "Damn it!" and rushed forward to block her. "Girl, step back." Ning Yao ignored him and continued killing, standing beside Ah Liang. Ah Liang didn't try to persuade her again, but simply swung his sword even faster.

One man on each side blocked most of the pursuers. His sword was so fast it was invisible; with each strike, a demonic beast fell. But the cracks on his sword multiplied, and the sword light grew dimmer. His face was as white as paper, and blood seeped from the corner of his mouth—the wound he had suffered from the Demon Ancestor was still not fully healed. But he didn't stop, sword after sword, like a tireless machine.

The pursuers finally retreated. Not because they were driven away, but because they were exhausted from killing. Hundreds of monster corpses were left on the wasteland. A Liang leaned against the pile of corpses, panting heavily, supporting himself on one knee with his sword on either side. Ning Yao sat in a pool of blood, blood still gushing from her right shoulder. She had wrapped it with strips of cloth several times, but the wrapping was crooked and blood seeped out from the gaps in the cloth.

Chen Ping'an carried Ye Yun over. He put Ye Yun down, squatted in front of Ning Yao, and reached out to untangle the tangled bandages wrapped around her right shoulder. "Don't move," he said. Ning Yao looked at him but didn't move. Chen Ping'an unwrapped the bandages, revealing the wound—five claw marks, deep enough to expose bone, the flesh torn open, with bone fragments inside. He took out some wound medicine from his pocket and sprinkled it on the wound. The powder stung Ning Yao, causing her to furrow her brow and bite her lip, remaining silent. Chen Ping'an re-bandaged the wound with clean bandages, wrapping it tightly around and around, then tying a knot.

"Thank you," Ning Yao said.

Chen Ping'an glanced at her but didn't speak. He stood up and walked to Zuo You. Zuo You was leaning against a rock, resting with his eyes closed. Sensing Chen Ping'an approaching, he opened his eyes. "Senior brother, you're badly injured." Zuo You shook his head: "I won't die." Chen Ping'an squatted down and examined the cracks on his sword. "How many years has this sword been with you?" Zuo You thought for a moment: "I can't remember. A long time."

Chen Ping'an didn't ask any more questions. He stood up and carried Ye Yun on his back. Ye Yun was still unconscious, his face ashen, his breathing weak, but he was still alive. Chen Ping'an carried him, tied the bandages around his neck, and glanced back at the darkness behind him. "Let's go. We must reach the border of the Vast World before dawn."

The procession continued.

While unconscious, Ye Yun sank into a deep dream.

He stood in a sea of ​​flowers. There were so many, so many colors, stretching as far as the eye could see. The sky was blue, the clouds were white, and the wind was gentle, feeling wonderful on his face. He looked down at his hands—the wounds were gone; the claw marks on his left arm, the poison wound on his right shoulder, the dent in his chest—all gone. He was wearing clean, light blue clothes, his favorite.

In the distance, there was a person dressed in white, standing in a sea of ​​flowers with their back to him.

Ye Yun's heart skipped a beat.

"Park She?"

The person turned around. It was Nangong Pushe. Dressed in white as snow, as pure and aloof as a plum blossom, her hair was held in place by a white jade hairpin, the tip of which was carved with a plum blossom. She looked at him, the corners of her mouth slightly upturned, not in a smile, but with a very faint expression, as if she were happy, yet also as if she felt heartache.

"Brother Yun, you're tired." Her voice was very soft, as soft as the wind blowing through flower petals.

Ye Yun wanted to walk over, but his feet wouldn't move. He wanted to reach out, but his hands wouldn't move. He stood there looking at her, his eyes reddening. "Pu She, I... I'm almost there. Zhou Mi has your soul in his hands. I'll go get it back, I'll take you back."

Nangong Pushe shook his head. She walked over to him, reached out, and gently touched his face. Her hand was cool, as cool as jade, but very gentle.

"You've done enough," she said. "Go back; there are people who need you."

Ye Yun shook her head, shaking it vigorously. "I'm not leaving! I'm taking you back!"

Nangong Pushe looked at him for a long time. Then she gently hugged him and pressed her face against his chest. Her body was very light, as if weightless. Ye Yun could not feel her body temperature, could not feel her heartbeat, but he could feel her presence.

"Brother Yun," she said, "I've always been in your heart. I've never left."

Ye Yun's tears finally fell. He cried like a child, his whole body trembling, but he couldn't move, couldn't hug her, and could only stand there, letting the tears stream down his face.

Nangong Pushe released him, took a step back, and looked into his eyes. Her gaze was calm, as calm as a still pond. "Go back. Someone is waiting for you. They need you."

Ye Yun opened her mouth as if to say something, but she stretched out her finger, pressed it to his lips, and shook her head.

"Brother Yun, promise me you'll live well."

Ye Yun looked at her, tears streaming down his face. "I promise you."

Nangong Pushe laughed. This time it was a genuine laugh, a beautiful laugh, her eyes curving like crescent moons. She took a step back, then another, her body beginning to fade, like a painting slowly being soaked in water, the colors fading little by little.

"Pu She!" Ye Yun shouted, reaching out to grab it. He caught it. Not her hand, but her petals—her body had transformed into countless plum blossom petals, scattered by the wind and drifting into the sky. The petals landed on his hand, on his shoulder, on his hair. He looked down at the plum blossom petal in his palm; the petal was thin, light, and a pale pink, like the blush on her cheeks when she smiled.

The sea of ​​flowers has vanished, the blue sky and white clouds have disappeared, leaving only darkness.

Ye Yun stood in the darkness, holding the plum blossom petal in his hand. He pressed the petal to his chest and closed his eyes.

"Park She, wait for me. I will definitely come to pick you up."

Chen Ping'an was carrying Ye Yun on his back when he suddenly felt a movement on his back. Ye Yun's body trembled violently, and then his fingers moved, grabbing Chen Ping'an's shoulders tightly.

"Boss Ye?" Chen Ping'an turned his head.

Ye Yun slowly opened his eyes. This time, they weren't cloudy; they were clear. He looked at the back of Chen Ping'an's head for two seconds, then spoke, his voice hoarse but clear: "Ping'an, put me down."

Chen Ping'an paused, not letting go. "You're injured like this—"

"Put me down." Ye Yun's voice wasn't loud, but it was firm.

Chen Ping'an hesitated for a moment, then squatted down, untied the bandages, and lowered Ye Yun from his back. Ye Yun stood on the ground, his legs buckling, almost causing him to fall. He steadied himself by grabbing Chen Ping'an's shoulder. He looked down at himself—all four flying swords were shattered, only the hilt of the Sword of Law remained in his hand, the blade broken in two. He was covered in wounds, the bandages tangled and blood still seeping from his wounds. But his eyes were bright.

"I'm fine now," Ye Yun said.

Chen Ping'an looked into his eyes and noticed something different. Before losing consciousness, Ye Yun's eyes were filled with murderous intent and madness, like a wild horse that had broken free of its reins. Now, that wild horse had been reined in; it was still panting, but no longer charging wildly.

"Who did you see?" Chen Pingan asked.

Ye Yun paused for a second. "Her."

Chen Pingan didn't ask who "she" was. He nodded, reached out, and took Ye Yun's arm. "Can you walk?"

Ye Yun tried taking two steps; her legs were still shaking, but she could walk. "Yes."

"Then let's go."

Ye Yun shook his head. He turned to face the back of the group. There were pursuers, demonic beasts, and A Liang, Zuo You, and Ning Yao fighting fiercely. He gripped the hilt of the broken Law Sword tightly; a faint light flickered at the break—the sword was being reborn, slowly, but undeniably.

"It's my turn to cover the rear," Ye Yun said.

Chen Ping'an frowned: "You're all alone—"

"I'm not alone." Ye Yun turned to look at him, a very faint smile playing on her lips. "Wait for me up ahead. I'll catch up soon."

Chen Ping'an looked into his eyes for a long time. There was no madness or murderous intent in those eyes, only a kind of calmness—like Chen Qingdu's eyes before he died, like Dong Bude's eyes before he rushed to the city wall, like Qi Jingchun's eyes when he wrote "Some things always have to be done by someone".

Chen Ping'an released his grip on him. "You came back alive."

Ye Yun nodded: "Yes."

He turned and limped toward the back of the line. After a few steps, he stopped and said without turning back, "Ping An, retrieve the wooden plaque from the tavern for me."

Chen Ping'an watched his retreating figure, the man covered in wounds, barely able to walk, as he walked step by step toward the pursuers. He didn't follow. He turned around, walked towards the front of the group, took two steps, stopped, and said to the air, "Okay."

Then he quickened his pace, walked to the front of the group, took over command from the left and right, and led the remaining sword cultivators to continue forward.

Behind him, sword light appeared. Not one, but four. Four faint lights shone in the darkness, like four stars about to go out, but they shone, and grew brighter and brighter. Ye Yun's sword cries came from behind, mixed with the screams and roars of demonic beasts, one after another, like a tragic battle song.

Chen Ping'an didn't look back. He walked even faster.

Ning Yao walked beside him, blood still seeping from the wound on her right shoulder, but she remained silent. She glanced back at the sword light behind her, then turned back to look at Chen Ping'an's profile.

"He will come back," Ning Yao said.

Chen Ping'an didn't speak, but he nodded.

The group continued forward. The sword light behind them grew farther and farther away, smaller and smaller, until it became a blurry dot on the horizon. But that dot remained lit, never extinguished.

Chen Ping'an walked at the front of the group, his back ramrod straight. He held Chen Qingdu's sword hilt in his hand, with Chu Yi and Shi Wu at his waist, and Ye Yun's broken sword on his back—he had secretly picked up the broken sword and fastened it to his belt when he put Ye Yun down earlier.

Before dawn, they must go even further.

The sword light behind him was still shining.