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

The altar was deathly silent.

Chen Ping'an knelt where Ye Yun had disappeared, and had been kneeling there for a long time. He had lost all feeling in his knees, and he was clutching the bundle of flying swords wrapped in cloth tightly in his arms, as if he was afraid that if he let go, he would lose them completely.

Ah Liang stood behind him, his left arm still severed and hanging at his side. His face was expressionless, but his eyes were red, as if he had just been crying. He opened his mouth several times, as if to say something, but in the end, he said nothing.

He stood at the edge of the altar, his back to the crowd. His shoulders were trembling slightly, and the veins on his sword-wielding hand were bulging, but he didn't turn around. He wasn't used to showing weakness in front of others, even at a time like this.

Ning Yao sat on the altar steps, hugging her knees, tears streaming silently down her face. She didn't cry out loud, but the tears just kept flowing, unstoppable.

Chen Pingan suddenly spoke.

"He said he would come back alive."

The voice was very soft, as if talking to oneself.

Ah Liang finally spoke: "Peace..."

"He promised me." Chen Ping'an interrupted him, his voice rising slightly and trembling slightly. "He said, 'Ping'an, I haven't paid back the money for the drinks, how can I die?' He said it himself."

Ah Liang fell silent.

He remembered those words. Many years ago, at the Sword Qi Great Wall, Ye Yun had said them while drunk. Back then, everyone thought he was joking, and no one took them seriously.

But Chen Ping'an took it seriously.

He always took it seriously.

Ning Yao raised her head, wiped away her tears, stood up and walked to Chen Ping'an's side, squatted down, and put her hand on his shoulder.

"Ping An, we should go." Her voice was hoarse. "It's not safe here. Reinforcements from the Wildlands could arrive at any moment."

Chen Ping'an did not move.

"He's not coming back." Ning Yao's voice was soft, but every word felt like a knife stabbing into her heart. "We...we have to accept it."

Chen Ping'an raised his head and looked at Ning Yao.

His eyes were bloodshot, but there were no tears left. His tears had all dried up, leaving only an emptiness, as if they had been hollowed out.

"I'm not leaving," he said.

"Safety--"

"I told you, I'm not leaving."

Ning Yao opened her mouth, but swallowed her words back.

She knew Chen Ping'an. He was usually easy to talk to, but once he made up his mind, nothing could change it.

Ah Liang sighed, walked over to Chen Ping'an, and squatted down.

"Ping An, listen to me. Ye Yun..." A Liang paused, his voice choked with emotion, "He did what he had to do. We also have our own things to do. He risked his life to seal the Heavenly Demon, not so that we could just wait here to die."

Chen Pingan remained silent.

"The world still needs you," A Liang continued. "The ruins of the Sword Qi Great Wall are still there. Ning Yao is still by your side. You still have a long way to go."

Chen Ping'an remained silent.

Ah Liang glanced to the left and right, then walked over and stood in front of Chen Ping'an.

Zuo You took something out of his pocket and handed it to Chen Ping'an.

It is a painting.

The painting Ye Yun gave to Chen Ping'an. Chen Ping'an dropped it on the ground when Ye Yun disappeared, and picked it up from both sides.

"This is what he left for you." Zuo You's voice was calm, but the hand holding the painting was trembling slightly. "He told you to burn it for him. But I think you should keep it."

Chen Ping'an looked at the painting, which depicted Nangong Pushe, wearing a blue dress, standing on the wall of the Sword Qi Great Wall, turning back and smiling.

He took the painting and gently stroked the portrait with his fingers.

The paper was thin, and the painting had been done many years ago; the edges were yellowed. But the woman in the portrait remained vivid, as if she were smiling at him.

Chen Pingan closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Then he opened his eyes and stood up.

His legs were numb, and he swayed as he stood up. Ah Liang reached out to support him.

"I'm fine." Chen Ping'an pushed away A Liang's hand and stood up straight.

He glanced at the portrait in his arms, carefully folded it, and tucked it into his bosom.

"Let's go," he said.

Ah Liang paused for a moment, then asked, "Leave?"

"Let's go." Chen Ping'an turned around and walked towards the altar. "You're right, he did what he had to do, and I have what I have to do."

Ah Liang watched his retreating figure and suddenly felt a pang of sadness in his heart.

This young man has learned to bear loss once again.

Just like back in the Sword Qi Great Wall, he lost so much, but in the end he still stood up.

Now, he's going to stand up again.

Ah Liang turned his head and glanced at the center of the altar, at the spot where Ye Yun had disappeared. There was nothing on the ground—no bloodstains, no traces—it was spotless, as if nothing had ever happened.

Only the shallow dents left by the four flying swords prove that someone once sat there.

Ah Liang sighed, turned around and followed Chen Ping'an down the street.

He walked at the very back, and after a few steps, he suddenly stopped and looked back at the altar.

He frowned slightly.

Then he turned around and kept walking.

He took three steps and then stopped.

This time, he didn't turn around; instead, he froze completely.

"Peace." The voices around him suddenly changed, carrying a hint of disbelief.

Chen Pingan stopped in his tracks: "What's wrong?"

"Look."

He pointed to the top of the altar with both hands, which were trembling slightly.

Chen Pingan turned around and looked in the direction the fingers were pointing to the left and right.

Above the altar, where the crack had disappeared, a point of light appeared.

The point of light was very small, like a star, twinkling faintly in the gray sky.

Chen Ping'an was stunned.

Ah Liang was also stunned.

Ning Yao covered her mouth, her eyes wide open.

The light spot is getting bigger.

From the size of a grain of rice to the size of a fingernail, from the size of a fingernail to the size of a fist. The light grew brighter and brighter, changing from a faint white to a dazzling gold, like a small sun hanging above the altar.

A figure appeared in the center of the light.

The figure was blurry, like a shape formed from condensed mist. But the shape slowly became clearer, first the outline, then the limbs, and then the facial features.

Chen Ping'an's hands were trembling.

He dared not move, dared not blink, dared not even breathe. He was afraid that if he moved, the figure would disappear.

The light gradually faded.

A person emerged from the light and landed on the altar.

He was dressed in tattered clothes, covered in blood, his hair was completely white, and his skin was as dry as tree bark. His face was covered in scabs, obscuring his features, but his eyes were bright.

Gray eyes, like the color of the beginning of chaos.

He stood on the altar, looked down at his hands, then at the ground beneath his feet, and then looked up at Chen Ping'an.

He smiled.

The smile was slight, with the corners of the mouth turned up slightly, revealing an "I knew it" expression.

"Ping An, I haven't paid back the money for the drinks yet, how can I die?"

His voice was hoarse, like sandpaper rubbing, but every word was clear and distinct.

Chen Ping'an stood still, motionless.

His mind was blank; he couldn't think of anything. His eyes were fixed on the person on the altar, on the blood-smeared face, on those gray eyes.

Then he moved.

He rushed towards the altar, taking two steps at a time, and reached the man.

Without saying a word, he simply hugged him tightly.

She held him very tightly, as if afraid he would disappear again.

"You bastard!" Chen Ping'an's voice was squeezed out from between his teeth, filled with sobs, anger, and something indescribable.

Ye Yun grimaced as he was hugged, the pressure on his chest wound causing him to gasp in pain.

"Ouch, ouch, ouch! Be gentle!"

Chen Ping'an didn't let go; he hugged her even tighter.

"You promised me." His voice was muffled on Ye Yun's shoulder, thick and nasal. "You said you would come back alive."

Ye Yun paused for a moment, then reached out and patted Chen Ping'an on the back.

"I'm back now, aren't I?"

Ah Liang stood beneath the altar, watching this scene, and smiled.

He laughed hard, but his eyes were red.

"I knew it." He wiped his eyes, his voice choked with emotion. "This guy's tough; he won't die."

Neither of them spoke, but he loosened his grip on the sword. He turned around, looked up at the gray sky, took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled.

Ning Yao stood to the side, tears streaming down her face again, but this time she was smiling.

She cried and laughed, laughed and cried, like a madwoman.

Ye Yun broke free from Chen Ping'an's embrace and patted him on the shoulder.

"Alright, stop hugging. What kind of behavior is this, two grown men?"

Chen Ping'an released his grip, took a step back, and looked Ye Yun up and down.

"Your hair..." Chen Ping'an looked at the head of white hair, his voice a little hoarse.

"So what if it's white?" Ye Yun touched his hair and smiled indifferently. "I'm getting old anyway, a little color won't make a difference."

"Your eyes..."

"So what if it's gray?" Ye Yun blinked her gray eyes. "As long as I can still see it."

Chen Ping'an opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something, but Ye Yun raised his hand to interrupt him.

"Don't ask yet." Ye Yun reached into his pocket, but found nothing. His expression changed. "Where's my portrait?"

Chen Ping'an was taken aback, then took the painting out of his pocket and handed it to him.

I picked them up from either side.

Ye Yun took the portrait, unfolded it, and glanced at it. The portrait of Nangong Pushe was intact, still wearing a blue dress, standing on the city wall and smiling at him.

He stared at it for a long time, then whispered something.

"Park She, I'm back."

The voice was very soft, so soft that only he could hear it.

But Chen Ping'an heard it.

He didn't speak, but stood quietly to the side, watching Ye Yun carefully fold the portrait and put it back into his bosom.

Ah Liang walked up to the altar and slapped Ye Yun on the shoulder.

"You scared me to death!" Ah Liang laughed and scolded. "I thought you were really dead."

Ye Yun stumbled from the slap, grimacing as she rubbed her shoulder.

"Take it easy, I'm injured right now."

"You're kidding me," Ah Liang cursed, his eyes still red. "It's good that you're back."

Zuo You also came over. He didn't say anything, but just nodded to Ye Yun.

Ye Yun nodded at him.

Ning Yao walked over and handed Ye Yun a pot of water.

Ye Yun took it, drank a sip, and the water dripped down his chin, mixing with the blood on his face, and onto the ground.

He looked around, glancing at the altar, the bloodstains and rubble on the ground, and the gray sky above.

"What about Zhou Mi?" he asked.

"He's dead," Chen Ping'an said. "The Heavenly Demon drained his life force, turning him to ashes."

Ye Yun paused for a moment, then nodded.

"Let's go," he said. "Let's get out of here."

The crowd gathered in the center of the altar; having survived the ordeal, no one spoke.

But they all sat down, on the ruins, on the altar that had almost become the starting point of the apocalypse.

No one spoke, but everyone was laughing.

Ah Liang laughed the loudest, Zuo You laughed the softest, Ning Yao laughed and then cried, and Chen Ping'an laughed and then his eyes reddened.

Ye Yun sat in the middle, his hair white, his body covered in wounds, his gray eyes gazing into the distance.

In the distance, a crack appeared in the desolate sky.

It's not a crack, it's a gap.

Sunlight streamed through the cracks, falling on the ruins, on the altar, and on everyone.

Golden, warm.

Ye Yun closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of the sunlight on his face.

very warm.