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

The ferry traveled through the sea of ​​clouds for seven days.

The boatman was a man of few words; aside from asking "Where to?" on the first day, he never spoke again. He sat at the stern each day, smoking his pipe, squinting at the sky, occasionally adjusting the direction with the oars. Ye Yun sat at the bow, a portrait and jade pendant tucked into his arms, four flying swords hovering at his sides, and the Sword of Law slowly rotating above his head. His injuries hadn't fully healed; his left arm still ached when he raised it, and the bones in his chest occasionally cracked, but he could already stand and walk. His luck value had increased slightly from zero—enough for the flying swords to spin, but not enough for a fight.

On the evening of the seventh day, the boat reached the shore. The boatman tapped his pipe and finally spoke his second sentence: "We're here. The wilderness lies ahead." Ye Yun stood up, took a piece of silver from his pocket, and placed it on the boat. The boatman glanced at it but didn't take it. "Keep it to buy a coffin," he said, pushing the silver back and rowing away.

Ye Yun stood on the shore, watching the boatman's figure disappear into the mist, put the silver back into his pocket, and turned to face the desolate world.

The sky was gray. The ground was black. In the distance were mountains, bare, like bones growing from the earth. There was a stench in the air, like flesh that had rotted for a long time. The wind was strong, making his clothes flutter and his flying sword hum. He took the portrait out of his robes, unfolded it, and glanced at it. Nangong Pushe still had that cold expression, his lips slightly pursed. He pressed the portrait to his heart for two seconds, then folded it up and put it back.

gone.

Where there was no road, he forged one. The Sword of Law cleared the way, cutting through thorns and pebbles. "Golden Light" illuminated the darkness ahead, "Purple Cloud" dispelled the poisonous miasma in the mist, and "Cage" protected him from any sudden attacks. After three days, he encountered his first group of demons. Several patrolling demons at the Golden Core stage were startled at first, then bared their teeth and pounced. Ye Yun unleashed all four swords simultaneously, killing them all in three breaths. He searched the corpses and found a map marking the distribution of various demon tribes and several important strongholds. He put the map away and continued on his way.

After ten days of travel, he entered the depths of the wilderness. The traces of the demon race became increasingly numerous. He avoided large groups, targeting only small ones. He killed them without searching the bodies, leaving no survivors, and used "Purple Cloud" to shred the corpses to ashes, leaving no trace. He knew Zhou Mi was waiting for him, but he couldn't let Zhou Mi find him too easily. He wanted Zhou Mi to know that he hadn't come to his death, but to reclaim what was rightfully his.

Vast world, small town.

Every morning, the first thing Chen Ping'an did was to stand by the river for a while. Not to admire the scenery, but to ponder things. The remnants of the Sword Qi Great Wall had settled down; over 30,000 men were scattered throughout the vast world. Some had sought refuge with relatives, some had been taken in by various powerful forces, and some had found their own places to stay. Over a thousand men were willing to follow him, mostly former subordinates of Dong Bude and Qian Shouxin, as well as Chen Qingdu's personal guards. These men huddled in the town, practicing swordsmanship, patrolling, and drinking every day, living a meager existence, but not one of them mentioned wanting to leave.

Chen Ping'an erected a monument at the town entrance, inscribed with the names of the 70,000 sword cultivators who died in battle. There were too many names for the monument to be large enough, so only the names of the leading few hundred were engraved; the rest were simply listed in one line: "Seventy-two thousand three hundred and eleven people died in the Battle of the Sword Qi Great Wall, names omitted." Every morning he would stand before the monument for a while, sometimes bringing a jug of wine to pour on the ground. After pouring, he would turn back to attend to official business.

Ning Yao's injuries had mostly healed; the wound on her right shoulder had scabbed over, and the bone in her left arm had been set, though she couldn't put weight on it. She came to the Hidden Official's Office every day to help, organizing documents, inventorying supplies, and arranging patrols—doing it even more meticulously than Chen Ping'an. A Liang and Zuo You took turns leading patrols to prevent the remnants of the demon race from infiltrating. A Liang still had that carefree, nonchalant air about him, a blade of grass dangling from his mouth, swaying as he walked, but his sword never left his hand. Zuo You remained as cold and aloof as ever, as taciturn as a stone, but after each patrol, he would stand silently before the monument for a while, saying nothing, just standing there.

Days passed by, flowing like water, neither fast nor slow. Every evening, Chen Ping'an would sit by the river for a while, gazing in the direction of the Wilderness World. Ye Yun had been gone for a month, without any news. He didn't know if Ye Yun was dead or alive, but he believed Ye Yun was still alive. Because Ye Yun had promised him that he would come back alive to drink with him.

Deep in the wilderness, a black palace stands on the wasteland.

The palace was built from the bones of demonic beasts and black stones, its walls covered with eerie runes, from which flowed a blood-red light. In the center of the hall, Zhou Mi sat on a bone chair, holding a crystal in his hand. The crystal was the size of a fist, transparent, and sealed within it was a faint wisp of a soul. The soul was white, like a wisp of smoke, slowly drifting within the crystal, sometimes gathering, sometimes dispersing, like a flower about to wither.

Zhou Mi gazed at the soul within the crystal, a slight smile playing on his lips. He was a man who appeared to be in his forties, with a refined face, dressed in a black Taoist robe, his long hair tied up, and holding a folding fan in his hand. If one didn't know his identity, no one would associate him with the "mastermind behind the barbaric world." He looked more like a schoolteacher, or a failed scholar.

"Ye Yun," Zhou Mi said softly, "you've finally arrived. I've been waiting for you for so long."

He stood up, walked to the palace gate, and looked at the hazy sky in the distance. There was nothing there, but he knew Ye Yun was on his way. His scouts reported that a human swordsman had recently appeared on the desolate border, wielding four flying swords and killing many patrolling demons. It was Ye Yun; only Ye Yun possessed such swords.

Zhou Mi held the crystal up to the light. The spirit within it floated slowly, as if sensing something, briefly gathering before dispersing again. Zhou Mi smiled. "Nangong Pushe, your man has come for you. Tell me, can he snatch you back from me?"

Crystal did not answer.

Zhou Mi put the crystal back into his sleeve, turned around and returned to the main hall, sitting on the bone chair. He picked up the folding fan on the table, unfolded it, and fanned himself. A plum blossom was painted on the fan, and a woman in white stood beneath it. Her face was not visible, but her figure resembled Nangong Pushe.

"Ye Yun," Zhou Mi muttered to himself, "you want her soul back? Fine. But what will you offer in exchange?"

He closed his folding fan, tapped the armrest, and made a crisp sound. The hall was empty, and the echo lingered for a long time.

Ye Yun walked for a whole month before finally seeing the black palace.

He lay prone behind a hill, using his "golden light" to probe the way and confirm there were no ambushes nearby. The palace was vast, covering hundreds of acres, its walls densely covered with runes that emitted a faint glow. Two rows of demon guards stood at the palace entrance, each one at least at the Nascent Soul Realm. Leading them was a peak Jade Purity Realm demon, with a tiger's head and a human body, smaller than the one he had seen at the Sword Qi Great Wall, but no less imposing.

Ye Yun didn't force his way in. He lay in wait behind the hill for a day and a night, observing the guards' shift changes and routes. On the third night, he moved. Using "Cage" to lock the guards' senses, and "Reflection" to accelerate, he slipped through the gap between the two rows of guards, like a snake, silent and stealthy. The palace interior was larger than the exterior, with corridors that stretched in all directions. The runes on the walls emitted a dim light, making the floor appear eerily white. Ye Yun walked for a long time, killing three groups of sentries, before finally finding the main hall.

Zhou Mi sat on the bone chair, holding a folding fan, watching him. It was as if she had known he would come and had been waiting for him for a long time.

"Ye Yun, sit down." Zhou Mi pointed to a chair opposite him.

Ye Yun did not sit. He stood in the center of the hall, with four flying swords hovering beside him and the Sword of Law spinning above his head, its tip pointing at Zhou Mi.

"Give me back Park She's soul," Ye Yun said.

Zhou Mi smiled, took the crystal from his sleeve, and placed it on the table. The soul floated slowly within the crystal, white and faint, like a wisp of smoke about to extinguish. Ye Yun's eyes were fixed on the crystal, his fingers trembling. It was Pu She, the Pu She he had waited for for countless years. She was still there; she hadn't completely disappeared.

"Give it back to you?" Zhou Mi said. "Sure. But what will you offer in exchange?"

Ye Yun looked at him. "What do you want?"

Zhou Mi opened the folding fan and fanned himself, the plum blossoms and white shadows on the fan swaying back and forth. "I need you to do something for me."

"What is it?"

Zhou Mi closed his folding fan, stood up, walked to Ye Yun, and looked at him. The two were less than three feet apart. The four flying swords hummed simultaneously, their blades shining brighter. Zhou Mi paid no attention; he looked into Ye Yun's eyes, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"I want you to kill Chen Ping'an."

Ye Yun's fingers stopped. He looked at Zhou Mi, his eyes calm, as calm as a stagnant pool.

"Impossible," he said.

Zhou Mi smiled, a gentle smile, as if chatting with an old friend. "Don't rush to refuse. You can think it over slowly. I'm a very patient person." He put the crystal back into his sleeve, turned and walked back to the bone chair, sat down, unfolded his folding fan, and continued fanning himself. "Come find me whenever you've figured things out. I'll keep Nangong Pushe's soul safe for you; I won't lose it."

Ye Yun stood rooted to the spot, staring at Zhou Mi for a long time. The four flying swords whirred and spun, their light flickering. His hand rested on the hilt of the Sword of Law, his knuckles white. He didn't draw the sword. Not because he dared, but because he couldn't. Pu She's soul was in Zhou Mi's hands; if he drew the sword, Zhou Mi could simply move a finger and that wisp of soul would vanish.

He loosened his grip on the sword hilt, turned, and walked away. Reaching the entrance to the main hall, he stopped, and without turning back, said, "I will return. With your head."

Zhou Mi chuckled. "I'll be waiting."

Ye Yun disappeared into the darkness of the corridor.

Zhou Mi sat on the bone chair, holding the crystal in his hand, looking at the wisp of soul inside. The soul gathered again, this time more tightly than before, like a person curled up, listening to something.

"Nangong Pushe," Zhou Mi said softly, "did you hear that? He refuses to kill Chen Ping'an. Do you think he might change his mind for your sake?"

Inside the crystal, the soul dispersed, then gathered again, then dispersed again. It was as if it were shaking its head.

Zhou Mi smiled, put the crystal back into his sleeve, closed the folding fan, leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes.

When Ye Yun stepped out of the palace, it was almost dawn. The sky in the Wilderness was always gray; there was no sunrise, no sunset, only gray. He stood outside the palace, glanced back at the black, bone-like palace, retrieved his four flying swords, and held the Sword of Law above his head.

He took out the wine flask Ning Yao had given him from his pocket, uncorked it, and took a sip. The wine was still sweet, sour, and bitter. He raised the flask towards the direction of Haoran Tianxia, ​​as if toasting someone.

"Ping An," he said softly, "Zhou Mi wants me to kill you. Tell me, will I agree?"

No one answered. The wind was strong, making his clothes flutter loudly.

He carefully put away the wine jug, turned, and left. He didn't return to Haoran Tianxia, ​​nor to the small town, nor to Chen Ping'an. He walked into the depths of the wilderness and disappeared into the gray mist.

In the distance, inside the palace, Zhou Mi opened his eyes, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"Ye Yun, you can't escape."

He held up the crystal and looked at the wisp of soul inside. The soul floated slowly, like a flower about to wither, but it never dissipated.

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

Zhou Mi read the two lines of poetry softly, and then smiled.

"interesting."