Miao Kong turned his head, following the trail of blood as he kicked aside the bodies lying in the shadows—disciples of the Grand Light Palace who had guarded the Western Heavenly Gate. They were piled up behind the gate tower, their faces still twisted in shock, as if they couldn’t believe that one of the Five Mingzi, Miao Kong, had suddenly turned on them.
Fools… how could they trust someone who always wore a mask?
“It’s all done…” Miao Kong murmured, looking southeast. “Why haven’t they come yet?”
* * *
When Xue Zi Ye awoke, she found herself on horseback, speeding through the snow.
Am I still alive?
The wind and snow howled around her, but her body didn’t feel cold. She was nestled in someone’s arms, wrapped in warm fox fur. A pair of hands pressed firmly against her back, continuously transferring warm internal energy into her.
Blue hair brushed across her face.
Miao Feng?
She smiled faintly, recognizing the figure. She tried to speak, to tell him not to waste his energy, but the poison had spread so thoroughly that she no longer had the strength to form words. Sensing that she was awake, the man on horseback lowered his head urgently.
“Master Xue? Are you feeling any better?”
She managed a slight smile, but at the same time, blue-green blood trickled from the corner of her lips.
“Don’t worry,” Miao Feng said, his voice filled with concern. “I’ll get you back to Medicine Valley immediately. We’re almost at Uliyasutai—you just need to hold on a little longer!”
What’s the point of going back to Medicine Valley? she thought. Not even I can cure this poison…
But she had no strength left to speak.
Miao Feng urged the horse forward through the snowstorm, their hair billowing in the fierce wind. She rested quietly against his chest, listening to the strong, steady beat of his heart. Her consciousness began to drift again, but her face still held a peaceful smile.
Finally… there’s nothing more for me to worry about.
Everyone she cared about was safe now.
She struggled to breathe as the poison from the Seven-Star Begonia attacked her mind, gradually turning her thoughts into emptiness. Her eyes filled with fear—she knew this poison would slowly strip away her consciousness, and in seven days, she would be left a hollow shell.
Memories fluttered in her mind like snowflakes, one after another: Xue Huai, Ming Jie, Yami and his sister, Master Qingran, Ning Yi, and the sisters of Medicine Valley… all the people she had loved and who had loved her in return.
How can I forget them?
She fought with all her strength, trying to reach for the golden needles in her robes—the delicate, sharp tools meant to save lives. She had known her duty from the moment she took over Medicine Valley. Yet, she had used them to take a life.
She had committed the gravest sin a healer could.
With all her might, she tried to move, but only her fingers twitched slightly—she no longer had control over her own body.
* * *
The Seven Swords of Dingjian Pavilion were traveling west when they encountered a man racing toward them from the northeast.
Miao Feng! Seeing the eerie blue hair in the snowstorm, the swordsmen exchanged glances and immediately leaped into position, forming a sword formation. Miao Feng was one of the top experts in the Grand Light Palace, rivaled only by Tong. Although he rarely appeared in the martial world, the corpses of the Eight Riders left in the snowfield had already shown them just how terrifying an opponent he was.
Huo Zhan Bai took the Xuanji position, his Minghun Sword hanging low, his gaze fixed on the approaching horse.
"Neeeigh—!" The horse whinnied as Miao Feng abruptly reined it in, stopping three zhang (about ten meters) away, sensing the killing intent in the air.
“Move aside,” Miao Feng said coldly, glaring at the Seven Swords. “I don’t want to kill anyone today.”
He was wrapped in a large, thick cloak lined with fox fur, his hands tucked inside—Huo Zhan Bai made a subtle gesture to his companions, signaling them to remain alert. Miao Feng’s hands were hidden, and no one could predict when he might suddenly strike.
“Heh, Miao Feng, you’ve got quite the arrogance,” Xia Qian Yu sneered, unable to hold back. “We’re not like those Eight Riders you cut down so easily!”
“Will you move or not?” Miao Feng’s patience was running thin, and his voice sharpened with anger. “Don’t push me!”
“If you have the skill, fight your way through!” Xia Qian Yu laughed loudly, pointing his sword at Huo Zhan Bai in the Xuanji position. With a sharp stomp, the other six swordsmen unsheathed their blades in unison, their figures crisscrossing as they moved into position. The gleam of their swords wove together, forming a deadly net as the sword formation was activated.
Miao Feng's arm moved under his cloak, and with a swift motion, he leaped from his horse, his sword flashing out. Like a bolt of lightning, his blade clashed with the sword net, exchanging over a dozen blows in an instant. The clash of swords echoed with the continuous “ding-ding” of metal striking metal. Alone, Miao Feng battled seven elite swordsmen from the Central Plains, showing no sign of fear. His sword, though just an ordinary steel blade, was infused with pure, gentle internal energy, making it sharp enough to contend with any renowned weapon.
“Ah!” one of the Seven Swords cried out in shock as his sword, upon clashing with Miao Feng’s, suddenly felt like it had plunged into boiling water. The heat traveled up the hilt, scorching his hand so severely that he nearly lost his grip.
“Careful, it’s the Spring Breeze Technique!” Huo Zhan Bai, noticing the faint red glow on Miao Feng’s blade, quickly warned the others.
As if throwing all caution to the wind in an attempt to end the fight quickly, the mysterious master from the Grand Light Palace unleashed a fierce assault. Every strike was aimed to kill, with no regard for his own safety, as he sought to break through the formation.
After a series of fierce exchanges, the overwhelming force of Miao Feng’s internal energy forced the swordsmen to retreat a step. Only Huo Zhan Bai remained motionless, standing firm in the Xuanji position with his Mohun Sword pointed at the ground. His focus sharpened, keenly observing Miao Feng’s every move.
In his haste to escape, Miao Feng’s rapid strikes exposed a small flaw—just a fleeting moment. But it was enough. Seizing the opportunity, Huo Zhan Bai’s Mohun Sword, swift as a black wind, pierced through the gap in Miao Feng’s swordplay!
Hit!
As the strike landed, Huo Zhan Bai’s thoughts raced, only to see Miao Feng do something unexpected—he abandoned his sword! In that split second, Miao Feng discarded his weapon entirely, raising his arm to block the blow with his bare hand.
A faint sound of "szzz" echoed as the dark blade pierced through Miao Feng's palm, nailing his hand in place!
The other six swordsmen gasped at the sight and rushed forward. Seizing the moment while their opponent was pinned, their swords converged into a shimmering web of light, poised to tear Miao Feng apart in a heartbeat.
But at the last moment, Miao Feng twisted and spun!
"Swish!" Ignoring the swords cutting through his cloak, Miao Feng thrust his blade toward Zhou Xing Zhi, the youngest and weakest of the seven, aiming for his throat.
All the swords froze, barely grazing his clothing.
“Brother Eight, you—!” Wei Feng Xing cried out in shock, along with the others, who instinctively stepped back, caught off guard by Miao Feng’s sudden, desperate move.
No one had expected him to risk everything in a reckless, self-sacrificing maneuver.
“Don’t worry about me!” Zhou Xing Zhi, pale-faced, shouted hoarsely.
Miao Feng stood in the snow, holding his sword with one hand, clearly exhausted from the fierce battle. His breathing was shallow, but his gaze remained cold. “I take back what I said earlier: the seven of you can indeed stop me—but it will cost you at least half of your lives.”
His voice was hoarse and tired. “The road is wide. Let us go our separate ways.”
The Seven Swords fell silent, their eyes turning to Huo Zhan Bai.
Huo Zhan Bai gazed at Miao Feng, deep in thought.
Their mission was to destroy the Grand Light Palace, and engaging Miao Feng in a life-or-death battle would lead to unnecessary casualties before they even reached Kunlun. Perhaps letting him go would be the wiser choice, avoiding further obstacles.
As Huo Zhan Bai hesitated, Wei Feng Xing suddenly shouted, “Everyone, be careful!”
The Seven Swords of Dingjian Pavilion stared in disbelief as a third hand—pale and frail—suddenly extended from inside Miao Feng’s cloak.
Realization dawned on them, their expressions filled with shock: Miao Feng had been carrying someone with him the entire time! He had fought them while protecting another person, someone so important to him that he had sacrificed his hand to shield them!
The hand reached out desperately, fingers trembling in the cold air, and faint breathing could be heard from within the cloak, though the person seemed too weak to speak.
Miao Feng’s expression darkened, and he pressed the blade closer to Zhou Xing Zhi’s throat. “Are you going to let us pass, or not?”
Despite the sword at his throat, Zhou Xing Zhi remained defiant, his voice resolute. “Don’t let him through! Don’t worry about me!”
"Release Brother Eight," Huo Zhan Bai finally spoke, his voice calm but firm. "You may go."
He stepped back, leaving the Xuanji position and opening a gap in the formation.
Miao Feng let out a breath of relief, sheathed his sword, and in a swift motion leapt back onto his horse.
Huo Zhan Bai stood in the snow, watching as Miao Feng galloped northeast, disappearing into the storm. A sense of foreboding settled in his chest, though he couldn’t explain why.
He stood there in the snow, gripping the Mohun Sword tightly, allowing the heavy snowfall to cover him. It wasn’t until Wei Feng Xing tapped him on the shoulder that he snapped out of his daze. As he mounted his horse, he couldn’t resist glancing back once more in the direction Miao Feng had disappeared.
But by then, the rider had already vanished into the vast snowstorm. Like the icy wind, gone without a trace.
Did… something just silently pass by me?
It wasn’t until much later that Huo Zhan Bai realized this entire journey had been for one final farewell, a farewell to someone they would never meet again.
Miao Feng clutched Xue Zi Ye tightly, urging his horse through the relentless snow.
In that world of wind and snow, only the sound of the storm surrounded them.
Cold snow, cold wind, cold breaths—it felt as though the blood in his veins was freezing solid.
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