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

Ye Yun led three people down the hill, but before they had run a hundred paces, they suddenly stopped. He sensed a familiar sword intent, casual and nonchalant, like a lazy breeze, but with a hidden blade within. He turned around and saw a person sitting on a rock not far away, dressed in a blue robe and tattered boots, a blade of grass dangling from his mouth, one foot on the rock, one hand resting on his knee, as if sunbathing—though there was no sun in this desolate wilderness.

"Ah Liang?" Ye Yun was stunned.

Ah Liang jumped down from the rock, patted his backside, walked up to Ye Yun, and looked him up and down. "Boss Ye, sneaking into the wilderness all by yourself isn't very nice." Ye Yun was both surprised and delighted, but his face remained expressionless, only the corner of his mouth twitched slightly. "What brings you here?" Ah Liang spat out the grass in his mouth and picked up a new one. "That kid Ping An was worried about you, so he sent me to keep an eye on you. He also said that if you die, no one will pay back the money for the drinks."

Ye Yun chuckled. It was a faint laugh, but her eyes shone.

Ah Liang whistled behind him. A dozen or so people emerged from the darkness, all sword cultivators, dressed in tattered armor, swords at their waists, scarred faces, and hard-looking eyes. Leading them was a one-eyed old man whom Ye Yun recognized—one of Chen Qingdu's personal guards, surnamed Zhou, known as Old Zhou, a peak Nascent Soul cultivator who had guarded the Sword Qi Great Wall for seven hundred years. Behind him were also familiar faces; some were Dong Bude's former subordinates, some were Qian Shouxin's brothers, and some had run up debts at Ye Yun's tavern. The dozen or so men stood in a row, bowing to Ye Yun. "Boss Ye," they said in unison, their voices not loud.

Ye Yun looked at them, his throat tightening. He opened his mouth, wanting to say, "You shouldn't have come," but the words stuck in his throat. These people had crawled out of piles of corpses. The Sword Qi Great Wall had fallen, their brothers had died, and instead of enjoying the good life in the Vast World, they had come to the Wilderness to die. To say "you shouldn't have come" would be an insult to them.

"Did Ping An send you?" Ye Yun asked.

Ah Liang shook his head. "He wanted to come himself, but he couldn't get away. The Hidden Official has to manage those thousands of people and deal with those forces in the Vast World; he can't extricate himself. He asked me to pass on a message—" Ah Liang cleared his throat, mimicking Chen Ping'an's tone, "'Boss Ye, I've kept the wooden signboard for you at the tavern. I'll nail it back on when you come back.'"

Ye Yun remained silent for a moment. "That kid..."

Ah Liang patted him on the shoulder. "Boss Ye, did you know? That kid Ping An said that if you die, he'll open your 'Forget-Worry Tavern' in Haoran Tianxia and serve you drinks every day." Ye Yun paused, then lowered his head, his shoulders trembling slightly. It wasn't crying, it was laughing. He raised his head, a smile playing on his lips. "That kid, he's cursing me to die."

Ah Liang laughed heartily, his laughter echoing through the valley and startling several bats hiding in the shadows.

After laughing, Ah Liang's playful expression vanished, replaced by a rare seriousness. "Boss Ye, let's get down to business. When does the grand sacrificial ceremony begin?"

"Tomorrow," Ye Yun said.

Ah Liang frowned. "Time is tight. How many of us are there?"

Ye Yun pointed to himself, then to A Liang, then to Old Man Zhang, Old Man Li, and Sister Wang behind him, plus the dozen or so people A Liang had brought. "Less than twenty."

Ah Liang whistled. "Less than twenty people, raiding Zhou Mi's lair? Boss Ye, you've made a bad deal."

Ye Yun didn't laugh. "I'll do it even if it means losing money."

Ah Liang looked at him for a few seconds, then nodded. "Alright. Let's do it." He turned to face the dozen or so sword cultivators. "Brothers, did you hear that? We're going to our deaths tomorrow. Anyone who doesn't want to go can leave now, I won't stop them." No one moved. One-eyed Old Zhou pulled his sword out and planted it in the ground, his voice hoarse: "The Great Wall of Sword Qi has been breached, are you still afraid of death?" The others didn't speak, but they all placed their hands on their sword hilts.

Ah Liang nodded in satisfaction and turned back to look at Ye Yun. "Boss Ye, tell me your plan."

Ye Yun squatted down and drew a simple diagram on the ground. He drew the layout of the palace, the weak points of the formation, the patrol routes, and the location of the altar very carefully, each stroke slow and deliberate. "When the grand ceremony begins tomorrow, Zhou Mi will be standing on the altar, his attention will be on the crystal. I'll enter from the front to attract his attention. A Liang, you take some men and flank around from the side to steal the crystal."

Ah Liang frowned as he looked at the diagram on the ground. "You're going to attract it head-on by yourself? That's suicide."

"I know," Ye Yun said, "but I have 'Nirvana,' so I won't die anytime soon. You guys grab the crystal and leave; don't worry about me."

Ah Liang shook his head. "This plan won't work. If you die, how am I supposed to explain it to Ping An?"

Ye Yun looked up at him. "No need to explain. Just tell him I drank too much and fell to my death."

Ah Liang didn't laugh. He stared into Ye Yun's eyes for a long time. Ye Yun's eyes were calm, as calm as a stagnant pool, but beneath the surface, there was a fire. Ah Liang had seen this kind of look before—in Chen Qingdu's eyes, in Dong Bude's eyes, in the eyes of everyone who had decided to die. He knew he couldn't dissuade him.

"Okay." Ah Liang stood up, dusting off his knees. "But let's change the plan. You go in from the front, and I'll go with you. Old Zhou will lead his men around from the side."

Ye Yun shook his head. "If you confront me head-on, who's going to lead the group to steal the crystal?"

Ah Liang grinned. "Old Zhou has guarded the Sword Qi Great Wall for seven hundred years, what hasn't he seen? He doesn't need me to lead him." He turned to look at the one-eyed Old Zhou, "Old Zhou, we've got the crystal, run east. There's a river to the east, cross it and you'll be in the territory of the Vast World. Don't look back, don't worry about us."

Old Zhou looked at Ah Liang and remained silent for a moment. "And you?"

Ah Liang smiled. "Us? We'll drink."

No one spoke anymore.

Ye Yun squatted down, erased the drawing, and stood up. He looked at the palace in the distance. In the hazy light of the sky, the palace resembled a giant beast lying prone on the ground, its mouth agape, waiting for its prey to walk into its trap. Four flying swords hovered beside him, their light steady, like four unextinguished stars.

"Ah Liang," Ye Yun suddenly said.

"Um?"

Thanks.

Ah Liang waved his hand, walked to the side, sat down against a rock, a blade of grass in his mouth, legs crossed, as if on a picnic. The dozen or so sword cultivators also found places to sit, some wiping their swords, some closing their eyes to rest, and some munching on dry rations. No one spoke, but the air was filled with something indescribable—not tension, not fear, but a very calm resoluteness.

Ye Yun walked to the side, sat cross-legged, and the Sword of Law hovered above his head, slowly rotating. He took out the wine flask Ning Yao had given him, uncorked it, and took a sip. Sweet, sour, bitter. He raised the flask towards the direction of the Vast World, as if toasting someone.

"Ping An, I'll drink the wine," he said softly. "You can drink yours again when we get back alive."

He carefully put away the wine jug, closed his eyes, and began to regulate his breathing. His luck was slowly recovering, and the four flying swords were being nurtured in his sea of ​​consciousness; the patterns on the Sword of Law were even brighter than before. Tomorrow's battle would be the most dangerous battle of his life. He wasn't afraid of death, but he didn't want to die. He had promised Ping An that he would return alive to drink.

The night was long. The desolate night had no moon, no stars, only boundless darkness. Occasionally, a few low, deep drumbeats drifted from the direction of the distant palace, like heartbeats, each one striking a chord in everyone's heart.

Ah Liang lay on the rock, looking at the sky, the grass he was chewing in his mouth was already rotten. He suddenly spoke: "Boss Ye."

Ye Yun opened his eyes. "Hmm?"

"Do you think people can really be reincarnated after they die?"

Ye Yun remained silent for a moment. "I don't know."

Ah Liang smiled. "I thought you knew about the Samsara Sword Path because you practice it."

Ye Yun shook his head. "The Samsara Sword Path isn't about cultivating reincarnation, it's about letting go."

Ah Liang didn't ask any more questions. He spat out the chewed grass, closed his eyes, and soon began to snore.

Ye Yun sat in the darkness, the Sword of Law hovering above his head, its light illuminating half his face. He took out a portrait of Nangong Pushe from his robes, unfolded it, and looked at the person in the painting. Dressed in white as snow, pure and aloof like a plum blossom, his lips were slightly pursed, as if he was not happy to be painted.

"Park She," he said softly, "I'll come pick you up tomorrow."

The portrait offered no reply. But Ye Yun felt a ripple stir in the lake of his heart. It was very light, as light as a breeze on water. He closed his eyes, his consciousness sinking into the lake of his heart. On the surface of the lake, the woman in white stood there, looking at him. She didn't speak, she didn't laugh, she just looked at him. But Ye Yun knew what she was saying.

"Brother Yun, be careful."

Ye Yun opened his eyes, folded the portrait, put it back in his bosom, and pressed it to his heart. He stood up, four flying swords hovering at his sides, and the Sword of Law slowly rotating above his head. Dawn was approaching. The hazy light of day pierced through the gray mist, illuminating the desolate land. In the distance, the sound of muffled drums came from the direction of the palace, one after another, like a death knell.

Ah Liang rolled off the rock, stretched, and yawned. "Shall we go?"

Ye Yun nodded. "Let's go."

Ah Liang walked up to him, put his hand on his shoulder, leaned in and whispered, "Boss Ye, it's a promise, we'll get back alive. That kid Ping An still owes me money for drinks."

Ye Yun's lips twitched slightly. "When did he owe you money for drinks?"

Ah Liang laughed. "He didn't pay for the drinks last time, and he refused to pay. Tell me, isn't it shameful for someone who's now a retired official to still renege on debts?"

Ye Yun didn't speak, but the corners of her mouth curved up a little more.

A dozen or so people emerged from behind the hill and stood in a row. Ah Liang stood at the front, Ye Yun beside him, and Old Zhou led the others behind. No one spoke, no one shouted slogans. They simply drew their swords, the gleam of the blades flashing briefly in the hazy daylight before fading away.

In the distance, the palace gates slowly opened. The demon race's horns sounded, their deep voices like the groan of a giant beast. The great sacrifice had begun.

Ye Yun gripped the Sword of Law tightly and took a deep breath. "Let's go."

A dozen or so people walked towards the palace. Their footsteps were light, yet steady. Every step they took was on the barren land, every step a matter of life and death.