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

When Ye Yun caught up with the group, it was almost dawn. He had returned from the depths of the wasteland, covered in blood, his clothes tattered, one leg dragging, leaving a bloody footprint with each step. But his eyes shone brightly, like two lamps. Four flying swords hovered beside him, their light faint but steady. The broken section of the "Sword of Law" had grown back, an inch shorter than before, with fewer patterns on its blade, but its sword aura remained.

Chen Ping'an saw him, his steps didn't stop, but his lips twitched slightly. Ning Yao saw him, her eyes reddened, and she turned her head away. A Liang caught up from behind, looked Ye Yun up and down, and patted him on the shoulder, making Ye Yun grimace. "It's good that you're not dead," A Liang said.

The group continued on. They walked for another day and night, stopping twice, each time for less than half an hour. Some people collapsed while walking and never got up again. Some sat by the roadside to rest, closed their eyes, and never opened them again. Some had festering wounds, developed high fevers, and deliriously called out the names of the dead. Chen Ping'an carried those who couldn't walk on his back, one on his back, then another, and so on. His legs trembled, his back bent, but he didn't stop.

Ye Yun walked in the middle of the group, the Sword of Law hovering above his head, sensing the surrounding demonic energy. The pursuers hadn't reappeared; the Demon Ancestor's injuries were more severe than expected, preventing him from pursuing in the short term. However, small groups of demon scouts continued to appear, and Ye Yun used his "Golden Light" to kill three waves, each wave adding another wound to his already formidable opponent.

On the evening of the third day, the border of the Vast World came into view. A river, not wide, with a gentle current, its banks covered in green grass, trees, flowers, and birdsong. On the opposite bank lay the territory of the Vast World, with farmland, villages, and wisps of smoke rising from chimneys.

Someone cried. Not a loud sob, but tears that fell silently. The Great Wall of Sword Qi, guarded for hundreds, thousands of years, had been reached after tens of thousands of deaths. But no one laughed. Because the city behind them had collapsed, because those who had stood guard with them were gone.

When they crossed the river, there were already people waiting on the Haoran Tianxia side. Officials sent by the Confucian Temple, representatives of various forces, and some rogue cultivators who were just watching the spectacle. They stood on the opposite bank, looking at the group of sword cultivators who were covered in blood, dressed in rags, and covered in wounds, with various expressions.

Some showed admiration, bowing and saying, "Thank you for your hard work." Others watched indifferently, expressionless, as if looking at a group of beggars. Some mocked, muttering, "The Sword Qi Great Wall is nothing special; it's been guarded for ten thousand years, yet it still broke." The voices weren't loud, but the sword cultivators all heard them. Some gripped their sword hilts tightly, some gritted their teeth, and some lowered their heads. Chen Ping'an didn't speak, walking past them without glancing at them. Ye Yun followed behind, glancing at the gossiping individuals with a calm expression, but their voices suddenly stopped—they sensed a killing intent, faint yet chilling.

The Confucian Temple arranged a small town as a temporary residence for the sword cultivators. The town was small, with few houses, and several thousand people were crammed in, making it very crowded. Some were assigned beds, some had to sleep on the floor, and some slept under the eaves, but no one complained. Just being alive was a blessing.

The headcount results were in. Of the 100,000 sword cultivators, fewer than 30,000 survived. More than 70,000 died in battle, including Chen Qingdu, over a dozen sword immortals, and hundreds of sword cultivators at the Nascent Soul stage or above. When the numbers were reported, no one in the room spoke. Chen Ping'an sat at the table, holding the paper in his hand, his fingers trembling. Ye Yun sat in the corner, leaning against the wall, his eyes closed, the Sword of Law hovering above his head, humming as it spun.

Ah Liang leaned against the doorframe, a blade of grass dangling from his mouth, his expression cold. Zuo You sat by the window, clutching his nearly broken sword, saying nothing. Ning Yao sat next to Chen Ping'an, her right shoulder wound reopening, blood seeping from the cloth strips, but she remained silent.

Chen Pingan folded the paper, put it in his pocket, and stood up. "Those who are alive must live well. Those who are dead, we must not forget." No one responded, but everyone nodded.

That night, Ye Yun found Chen Ping'an. Chen Ping'an was sitting on a rock by the river outside the town, holding Chen Qingdu's sword hilt, looking at the darkness on the opposite bank. Ye Yun walked over and sat down beside him, the Sword of Law hovering above his head, its light illuminating a small patch of water.

"Ping An, I'm going to stay in Haoran Tianxia for a while," Ye Yun said.

Chen Pingan turned to look at him. "Why?"

"I'm looking for something," Ye Yun said. "Zhou Mi has something about Pu She. I want to get it back."

Chen Ping'an was silent for a moment. "I'll stay with you."

Ye Yun shook his head. "You are a Hidden Official. Although the Sword Qi Great Wall has been breached, the sword cultivators of the Sword Qi Great Wall are still here. They need you. A Liang needs you, Zuo You needs you, Ning Yao needs you. You cannot leave."

Chen Ping'an looked at the river; the current was gentle, reflecting the stars in the sky. "You're going to the wilderness alone? That's suicide."

Ye Yun did not deny it. "It might be. But I have to go."

Chen Ping'an remained silent for a long time. He placed Chen Qingdu's sword hilt on his knees, crossed his hands, and circled his thumbs together. "Boss Ye, you promised me you'd come back alive for a drink."

Ye Yun's lips twitched slightly. "I remember."

"Then promise me." Chen Ping'an turned to look at him, his eyes bright, like starlight in a river, "Come back alive."

Ye Yun looked at him for a long time, then nodded. "I promise you."

The two sat by the river in silence. After a long while, Ah Liang emerged from the darkness, carrying two jugs of wine. He tossed one to Chen Ping'an and the other to Ye Yun. He himself carried the other jug, uncorked it, and took a large gulp.

"Don't just sit there, have a drink," Ah Liang said.

Chen Pingan uncorked the bottle and took a sip. The liquor was strong, making him cough twice. Ye Yun also took a sip; the liquor burned his eyes as it went down his throat. A Liang sat down next to them, his three legs dangling over the river, swaying back and forth.

"Boss Ye," Ah Liang suddenly said, "I know what that thing Zhou Mi has is."

Ye Yun paused, her hand holding the wine jug still. "What is it?"

Ah Liang remained silent for a moment, as if considering how to begin. "A wisp of soul. A remnant of Nangong Pushe's soul. After she died, her soul should have dissipated, but for some reason, a wisp remained and was found by Zhou Mi. He sealed it in a crystal and carried it with him."

Ye Yun's hands trembled. Wine spilled from the flask, dripping onto the back of his hand, still warm. His eyes lit up, frighteningly bright, like two flames. So Pu She still had a remnant soul in the world. So she hadn't completely disappeared.

"Are you sure?" Ye Yun's voice trembled.

Ah Liang nodded. "Confirmed. Zhou Mi has been using this remnant soul to his advantage. He wants to use her to blackmail you and make you work for him."

Ye Yun placed the wine jug beside him, his hands on his knees, head bowed, his shoulders trembling. He wasn't crying, but overwhelmed with emotion. His hands were clenched into fists, his knuckles white, his nails digging into his flesh. For countless years, he had finally learned that Pu She's remnant soul still lingered in the world. Not a cold corpse, not a faded portrait, but a real, living spirit that belonged to her.

Chen Ping'an looked at him without speaking, and handed him the wine jug. Ye Yun took it, took a large gulp, and the wine dripped down his chin onto his clothes. He wiped his mouth, returned the jug to Chen Ping'an, and stood up. The Sword of Law hovered above his head, humming as it spun, its light even brighter than before.

"I'm going to the wilderness," Ye Yun said.

Chen Pingan also stood up. "When?"

"tomorrow."

Chen Ping'an nodded without trying to dissuade him. He extended his hand, and Ye Yun did the same; they shook hands briefly. Chen Ping'an's hand was warm, while Ye Yun's was cold.

Ah Liang jumped down from the rock, dusted himself off, and walked up to Ye Yun, looking at him. "Boss Ye, Zhou Mi isn't so easy to deal with. Although he's injured now, he still has a large number of powerful demons under his command. Going alone like this is likely to be very dangerous."

Ye Yun nodded. "I know."

Ah Liang looked at him for a long time, then sighed. "Your temper is just as stubborn as Old Dong's." He took something out of his pocket and stuffed it into Ye Yun's hand. It was a jade pendant, green and round, with a square hole in the middle and the character "Liang" engraved on it.

"Take this. If you encounter any difficulties in the wilderness, go to this place, mention my name, and someone will help you," Ah Liang said.

Ye Yun looked down at the jade pendant and clutched it in his hand. "Thanks."

Ah Liang waved his hand, turned and walked away. After a few steps, he stopped, and without turning back, said, "Come back alive. The tavern has to keep going."

Ye Yun tucked the jade pendant into his robes, placing it alongside Chen Qingdu's sword hilt. He stood by the river, gazing at the darkness on the opposite bank. The desolate world lay in that direction, far away, but the path was forged step by step.

Ning Yao arrived. She walked to Chen Ping'an's side, stood beside him, and looked at Ye Yun. Her right shoulder was still wrapped in cloth, her face was very pale, but her eyes were firm. She handed Ye Yun what she was carrying—a pot of wine, wrapped in cloth, with a red paper pasted on the pot bearing the words "Ping'an" (Peace) written on it.

"Boss Ye, this is homemade. It's not very good, please don't mind it," Ning Yao said.

Ye Yun took the wine jug, uncorked it, and smelled it. The aroma was faint, with a fruity scent, not as strong as Dong Bude's, nor as bitter as his. He took a sip. It was very sweet at first, almost cloyingly so, then came a sour taste that made him frown, and finally a very faint bitterness, like someone sighing from afar.

"It's delicious," Ye Yun said. "Even better than my 'Longing'."

Ning Yao's eyes reddened. "You're lying."

Ye Yun carefully put away the wine jug, tucked it into his robes, and gently patted Ning Yao's head. "Live well, little girl."

Ning Yao's tears finally fell, but she didn't cry out loud. She nodded, took a step back, and stood beside Chen Ping'an.

Zuo You arrived. He didn't speak, but simply walked up to Ye Yun, drew his sword, held it horizontally in front of him, and performed a swordsman's salute. The sword tip pointed downwards, the blade held horizontally—the highest form of respect between swordsmen. Ye Yun paused for a moment, then drew his sword of law and returned the same salute. The two stared at each other for a second, then Zuo You sheathed his sword, turned, and left.

Ye Yun stood by the river, gazing at the darkness on the opposite bank. Dawn was approaching, a sliver of gray-white appearing on the eastern horizon. He hovered four flying swords at his sides, the Sword of Law slowly rotating above his head. He took out a portrait of Nangong Pushe from his robes, unfolded it, and glanced at it. Dressed in white as snow, pure and aloof like a plum blossom, his lips slightly pursed, as if displeased to have been painted.

He folded the portrait again, put it in his bosom, and pressed it against his heart.

"Park She," he said softly, "I'm here."

He turned and walked towards the ferry. After a few steps, he stopped and looked back. Chen Ping'an was still standing by the river, Ning Yao was standing beside him, A Liang was leaning against a tree, and the other two were sitting on the windowsills. The four of them looked at him, but no one spoke.

Ye Yun waved to them, then turned and left. This time, he didn't look back.

The ferry was moored at the shore. The boatman was an old man with deeply etched wrinkles on his face. He had a pipe dangling from his mouth and squinted at Ye Yun. "Where to, sir?"

Ye Yun jumped onto the boat. "The Wilderness."

The boatman paused, nearly dropping his pipe. He glanced at Ye Yun, then at Ye Yun's injuries, the flying sword hovering beside him, and the rotating sword of law above his head. After a moment of silence, he tapped his pipe. "Hold on tight."

The boat left the shore. The oars cut through the water, making a splashing sound. The figures on the shore grew smaller and smaller; Chen Ping'an became a dot, Ning Yao became a dot, and A Liang and Zuo You became two dots. The town turned into a hazy gray expanse, and the river became a silvery-white ribbon.

Ye Yun stood at the bow of the boat, took out the wine flask Ning Yao had given him from his pocket, uncorked it, and took a sip. Sweet, sour, bitter. He raised the flask towards the shore, as if toasting someone.

"Through reincarnation, my unwavering devotion remains unchanged; with a single sword, I cleave the path between life and death," he murmured.

The ship sailed into a sea of ​​clouds, shrouded in mist, obscuring the shore. Ye Yun's figure vanished into the white fog, like a drop of water falling into the ocean.

Chen Ping'an stood by the river, watching the direction the ferry had disappeared in, remaining there for a long time. Ning Yao stood beside him, silent. A Liang jumped down from the tree, walked to his side, and spat out the grass he was carrying. "Let's go, Hidden Official. There are still thousands of people waiting for you to take care of."

Chen Ping'an didn't move. He watched the last ripples on the river spread out, watched the mist swallow everything, then turned around and walked towards the town. After taking two steps, he stopped and took something out of his pocket—a fragment of a wooden plaque. It was a piece of the character "忘" (wang, meaning forget) from the "忘忧酒" (wangyou jiu, meaning forget-me-not) plaque, missing half of it, leaving only the radical "亡" (wang, meaning death) and the character "心" (xin, meaning heart).

He didn't turn around when he passed the tavern that day, but he quietly picked up the shard.

He stuffed the fragments of the wooden plaque back into his pocket and quickened his pace.

Behind them, the river flowed, shrouded in mist. In the distance, towards the desolate wilderness, dark clouds rolled, and lightning flashed and thunder roared.