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

Ye Yun gripped his sword, the tip pointing at Zhou Mi, but he didn't move. Not because he didn't want to move, but because he couldn't.

His spiritual energy was depleted, his luck value zeroed out, and although the four flying swords had regrouped, their light was as dim as a flickering lamp. His body trembled, not from fear, but because he had reached his limit. Zhou Mi stood on the altar, watching Ye Yun, and also saw his limit. But he didn't attack. That last sword strike had taken most of his life, and the cracks in his Undying Law were still widening; he needed time to stabilize his injuries. The two faced each other, neither moving.

Ah Liang stood beside Ye Yun, half a sword lying across his body, his left arm hanging limply, and the web of his right hand split open, blood trickling down the hilt. He glanced at Ye Yun, then at Zhou Mi, knowing they couldn't fight any longer. If they continued, everyone would die here.

"Boss Ye," Ah Liang said in a low voice, "withdraw."

Ye Yun didn't move. His eyes were fixed on Zhou Mi, the dark red halo around his pupils still lingering, like the sun during an eclipse. His hand gripped the hilt of his sword, his knuckles white, but the tip trembled. He wanted to rush forward, to kill Zhou Mi, to tear him to pieces. But his body wouldn't obey him. His legs trembled, his hands trembled, his whole body trembled, like a machine about to fall apart.

Ah Liang reached out and grabbed Ye Yun's shoulder, squeezing it hard. "Boss Ye! Let's get out of here! If we don't leave now, nobody's going anywhere!"

Ye Yun's eyes darted around, looking at A Liang. A Liang's face was blurry and doubled in his eyes, as if seen through a layer of mist. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but only a muffled breath escaped his throat. Without waiting for him to speak, A Liang grabbed Ye Yun's arm and dragged him out. Old Zhou followed behind, dragging his broken leg. The dozen or so sword cultivators walked on their own, some were supported, and some were carried on someone's back, limping out of the main hall.

Zhou Mi didn't give chase. He stood on the altar, watching them disappear at the end of the corridor, a slight smile playing on his lips. Blood was still seeping from his chest, black drops falling to the ground, each one steaming and corroding the bricks. He pressed his hand to the wound; runes lit up in his palm, the bleeding stopped, but the crack remained.

"Ye Yun," he said softly, "you can't escape. Your suffering has only just begun."

When Ye Yun was helped out of the palace by A Liang, it was almost dawn. The sky in the wilderness was always gray, with no sunrise or sunset, only gray. But today's gray was different from before; it was a deeper, heavier gray, like a lead plate pressing down on his head.

They walked a long way, so far that the palace became a blurry black line on the horizon, so far that the pursuers behind them had stopped following. A Liang placed Ye Yun beside a rock. Ye Yun sat against the rock, eyes open, staring at the sky, motionless. A Liang squatted down in front of him and waved his hand in front of his eyes. Ye Yun blinked, but didn't look at him.

"Boss Ye," Ah Liang called out. No response. "Ye Yun!" Still no response.

Ah Liang sighed, sat down next to him, and plucked a blade of grass from the ground, putting it in his mouth. Old Zhou leaned against another rock, wrapping his broken leg with strips of cloth, sweating profusely. The dozen or so sword cultivators sat scattered around, some bandaging their wounds, some drinking water, and some with their eyes closed, whether asleep or unconscious, it was unclear.

No one speaks.

Ye Yun sat on the rock, his eyes open, but he saw nothing. His consciousness sank into the depths.

The lake of the heart has changed. The water is no longer calm, but murky, like stirred-up mud. There is no wind on the lake, but the water is churning, wave after wave crashing against the shore. The sky is no longer blue, but gray, as gray as a desolate wilderness. Standing in the center of the lake is a person. Not Pu She, but himself. Another him, dressed in white, holds the Sword of Law in his hand, the patterns on the blade are blood red.

Ye Yun looked at his other self, and his other self looked at him.

"What are you doing here?" Ye Yun asked.

The other self remained silent, raising its sword, the tip pointing at him. The crimson patterns on the sword flashed, and the waters in his heart churned even more violently, as if about to boil. Ye Yun felt a killing intent surge from the other self, so intense it felt tangible, suffocating him. He wanted to retreat, but his feet wouldn't move. He wanted to draw his sword, but his hands wouldn't lift.

"You are me." The other self spoke, the voice exactly the same as his, but colder, as cold as the winter wind, "I am you. Your obsession, your pain, your hatred, are all here with me."

Ye Yun looked at him without saying a word.

The other self put down the sword and walked up to him, only a step away. Their faces were almost touching, with the same features and expressions, but their eyes were different. Ye Yun's eyes were black, while the other self's eyes were red, as red as blood.

"You want to resurrect her," another version of yourself said, "but she's gone. Utterly gone. There's nothing you can do about it."

Ye Yun felt as if his heart was being squeezed. It hurt so much that he couldn't breathe.

"You hate Zhou Mi," another version of yourself said. "You want to kill him. But you can't. You're too weak. You can't even save yourself, how can you expect to save others?"

Ye Yun lowered his head. Tears welled up in his eyes, dripping onto the surface of his heart, creating ripples. His other self looked at him, his eyes devoid of pity or sympathy, containing only something indescribable—like a mirror, reflecting his truest self.

"You cultivate the Samsara Sword Path in order to revive her," another version of yourself said. "But the end of the Samsara Sword Path is not resurrection, but letting go."

Ye Yun abruptly raised her head. "Let go? She's dead, and you want me to let go?"

His other self looked at him calmly. "If she won't let go of you, can you let go of her?"

Ye Yun was stunned.

The surface of the lake suddenly calmed. The churning mud settled, and the water became clear, as clear as a mirror. The reflection on the lake wasn't of the sky, nor of clouds, but of a painting. In the painting was a woman in white, standing under a plum tree, her lips slightly pursed, as if she were unhappy to be painted. She looked at Ye Yun, her eyes calm, as calm as the lake itself.

"Brother Yun," she said. Her voice was very soft, as soft as the wind blowing through plum blossoms.

Ye Yun's body trembled violently. "Pu She..."

Nangong Pushe stepped out of the painting and stood on the lake, standing before him. She reached out and gently touched his face. Her hand was cool, as cool as jade, yet very gentle.

"Brother Yun, don't be sad," she said.

Ye Yun couldn't stop crying. He cried like a child, trembling all over, his face covered in snot and tears. He tried to reach out and hug her, but his hand passed right through her body, and he couldn't hold onto anything. She was just a wisp of consciousness, without a physical form.

"You've done enough for me," Nangong Pushe said. "You risked your life to find me, you desperately tried to save me. I know all that. But Brother Yun, I'm already dead. I died a long, long time ago."

Ye Yun shook his head, shaking it violently. "No... I can revive you... I can..."

Nangong Pushe gently pressed his lips to Yun's and shook his head. "Brother Yun, true reincarnation is not about bringing the dead back to life, but about letting the living live well."

Ye Yun stared at her, stunned. She smiled, a very faint smile, almost imperceptible, but Ye Yun saw it. It was the most beautiful smile he had ever seen in his life.

"I am dead, but you are still alive," she said. "How can I find peace if you continue to live in pain?"

Ye Yun was in tears. "But I can't let go."

Nangong Pushe looked at him for a long time. Then she took his hand and placed it on her heart. Her hand was cold, but her heart was warm. Not the kind of warmth of temperature, but the warmth of light, like the winter sun.

"Then don't let go," she said. "Keep me in your heart and walk with me on this journey."

Ye Yun placed his hand on her chest, feeling the warm light pulsating in his palm, each beat like a heartbeat. He looked up into her eyes. Her eyes were bright, as bright as stars.

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

Ye Yun looked at her, remaining silent for a long time. Then he nodded. "I promise you."

Nangong Pushe smiled. This time it was a genuine smile, a beautiful smile, her eyes curving like crescent moons. Her body began to fade, starting from the edges, gradually becoming transparent. Ye Yun watched her body disappear bit by bit, this time without crying, without reaching out to grab her. He simply looked at her, etching her image into his heart.

"Brother Yun, if there is an afterlife, I still want to drink the wine you brew." Her voice grew softer and softer, and faded into the distance.

Ye Yun smiled. It was a faint smile, but her eyes shone. "Alright. I'll brew some for you to drink."

Nangong Pushe vanished completely, transforming into countless points of light that drifted above the Heart Lake. The light did not extinguish; it rose high, hanging in the sky like stars, twinkling.

Ye Yun stood on the lake in her heart, looking up at the stars for a long time.

"Park She, I understand," he said softly.

The surface of the Heart Lake was completely still, as calm as a mirror. The stars hanging in the sky were reflected in the water, creating a starry sky on the lake. Ye Yun stood in the middle of the starry sky, four flying swords emerging from the lake and hovering beside him. The sword light was not golden, not purple, not black, and not blood-red. It was white, like moonlight, like snow, like Pu She's white robes. The Sword of Law slowly rose from the lake, and the patterns on its blade changed again. The blood-red "Obsession" pattern was still there, but a new pattern appeared beside it, white, faint, like a wisp of smoke.

This pattern is called "Letting Go".

Ye Yun opened her eyes.

Ah Liang was squatting in front of him, brandishing half a sword at his face. "Boss Ye? Are you still alive?" Ye Yun looked at him, his lips twitching slightly. "Alive."

Ah Liang froze for a moment, then breathed a sigh of relief and plopped down on the ground. "Damn, that scared me to death. You were like you were dead, eyes wide open, completely still, you almost stopped breathing."

Ye Yun didn't reply. He looked down at his hands. The wounds were still there, but they were healing much faster than before. Four flying swords hovered beside him, their light no longer dim, but steady, white, like moonlight. The Sword of Law hovered above his head, slowly rotating, its blade adorned with red and white patterns that intertwined like two fish swimming.

Ah Liang also noticed Ye Yun's change. His sword intent was different. Before, his sword intent was sharp, violent, and filled with endless killing intent. Now, his sword intent was peaceful, profound, like a great river, calm on the surface but surging with undercurrents beneath.

"Boss Ye, you've broken through?" Ah Liang asked.

Ye Yun thought for a moment. "I suppose so. The seventh level of the Reincarnation Sword Technique."

Ah Liang whistled. "The seventh level? The Lord of Reincarnation?"

Ye Yun shook his head. "Not the Lord of Reincarnation. It's... letting go." A Liang didn't understand, but didn't press further. He wasn't a practitioner of the Reincarnation Sword Dao, so he wouldn't understand even if he asked. He only knew that Ye Yun had changed, becoming more somber and profound, like a well with no bottom in sight.

Ye Yun stood up from the rock, his legs and hands no longer trembling. He turned and looked at the palace in the distance. In the hazy light of the day, the palace resembled a giant beast lying prone on the ground, its mouth agape, waiting for its prey to walk into its trap. But his eyes no longer held hatred or anger; instead, they held a deep calm—like Chen Qingdu's dying gaze, like Dong Bude's gaze before he charged onto the city wall, like Qi Jingchun's gaze when he wrote, "Some things always have to be done by someone."

"Park She," he said softly, "I understand."

He drew the Sword of Law, and the white patterns on its blade flashed. Sword energy soared into the sky, but not in a fierce, domineering way; rather, it was a peaceful, warm surge, like a pillar of light rising from the ground, piercing through the gray mist and clouds, reaching a very high and distant place. A small patch of gray mist was dispersed by the sword's energy, revealing the deep blue sky behind it. Stars twinkled in the sky, like piercing eyes.

Ah Liang stared at the sword light in silence for a long time. "Boss Ye, what are you planning to do?"

Ye Yun sheathed his sword and turned to look at him. "Zhou Mi owes me a debt. I'm going to collect it."

"Now?"

Ye Yun shook his head. "Not now. My injuries haven't healed, and my luck hasn't recovered. Besides, although Zhou Mi was injured by me, he still has a powerful demon and a massive army. Forcing our way in would be suicide."

Ah Liang nodded. "So, what do you plan to do?"

Ye Yun gazed at the distant palace, remaining silent for a moment. "Wait. Wait for an opportunity."

He turned and walked towards the desolate border. Ah Liang followed behind him, followed by Old Zhou, who dragged his broken leg, with the dozen or so sword cultivators bringing up the rear. The group walked across the gray wasteland like a winding river flowing towards the vast world.

Ye Yun took a few steps, stopped, and glanced back at the palace. In the hazy light of the day, the palace's outline was blurred like a faded painting.

"Zhou Mi," he said softly, "you wait. I'll be back."

He turned his head and continued walking. The Sword of Law hung above his head, its white light illuminating the path ahead.