A turbulent era had finally passed.
Since Huo Zhan Bai, the first disciple of the Tianshan Sword Sect and one of the Eight Swords, succeeded Nan Gong Mo as the new master of Dingjian Pavilion three years ago, the martial world entered a rare period of peace. The Grand Light Palace in distant Kunlun had all but vanished after the great battle, and the assassins of the Shura Field no longer roamed the Western Regions. Even the Worshipping the Moon Sect in the South had laid down its arms after the Tianlai Sect Leader took over, no longer aggressively targeting the Southern Martial Alliance.
In that battle, more than half of the Seven Swords were lost, and the strength of many sects was weakened, temporarily calming the fierce conflicts within the martial world.
It was as if a river had surged past its most treacherous, dangerous stretch, and now it flowed calmly and quietly.
The Returning Heaven Orders from Medicine Valley continued to be sent out, and waves of patients traveled thousands of miles to seek treatment. Inside the valley, everything remained the same—except that the purple-clad Valley Master Xue was no longer there.
The former Valley Master, Liao Qingran, returned to Medicine Valley to take charge once again, but she never showed herself, leaving all matters in the hands of a newly accepted disciple.
Everyone was surprised that Medicine Valley, which had always only accepted female disciples, had taken in a man. But soon, they came to find it appropriate. That disciple, Yami, with his striking blue hair, was not only handsome and gentle but also incredibly gifted and diligent. His mild temperament, in particular, was a welcome change for patients who had suffered under the previous Valley Master’s temper.
Moreover, no matter how fierce a patient was, they became docile and obedient in his hands. Once, the notorious bandit Meng Hu, diagnosed with a terminal illness, went on a murderous rampage in the valley. Yami, without losing his smile, raised his hand and swiftly ended Meng Hu's life with a single strike.
Before long, Yami became a new legend in the martial world, leaving many to speculate about him.
He was polite and courteous to everyone, always responding appropriately, but there remained an elusive distance that no one could cross. When asked about his past, he would merely smile and say, “I was once a terminally ill patient, but the former Valley Master Xue Zi Ye saved my life, so I joined Medicine Valley to repay this great kindness.”
No one could tell whether his words were true, just as no one could see through the expression behind his smile.
No one knew that this brilliant, kind-hearted, and refined young healer had once been a cold-blooded killer. No one knew how he had survived.
—The process of "coming back to life" had been even more painful than death.
And when he had finally been brought back to life, the one who had saved him was already gone, forever.
He had once asked Tong to send people down to the thousand-foot glacier to search for his sister’s body, but nothing was ever found—he realized then that the last thread connecting him to the world had been severed.
Yet, he still smiled faintly.
Many times, people in the valley would see him standing on the Icefire Lake, lost in thought—the young man who had been frozen beneath the ice for over a decade had been buried alongside Master Xue, but Yami continued to gaze at the empty surface as if, through the deep waters, he could see into another time and place.
He was waiting for another era of upheaval, waiting for the time when the masters of good and evil from the Central Plains and the Western Regions would once again face each other at the peak of power—
When that time came, he, like the female healer before him, would give everything he had, without retreating a single step.
Every year, when winter arrived in Jiangnan, the new master of Dingjian Pavilion would come alone to Medicine Valley.
It wasn’t for treatment—he would simply sit quietly beneath the plum tree, drink a few cups of wine in solitude, and then leave. Accompanying him on these visits were only the intelligent snow falcon and Medicine Valley’s mysterious new master, Yami.
Aside from these visits, Huo Zhan Bai was a dedicated leader. Each day, he managed numerous cases, mediated disputes between sects, and selected promising young talents while eliminating corrupt elements. The lights in the top floor of Dingjian Pavilion often burned late into the night.
On the fifteenth day of every month, he would travel from Muling’s Dingjian Pavilion to Lin’an to visit Qiu Shui Yin.
It had been ten years since her marriage. The once gallant young man, always in fine clothes and mounted on a horse, had now reached his prime, becoming the leader of the Central Plains martial world and the object of admiration for countless people. Yet, his concern for her had not diminished in the slightest.
Every month, he would arrive at Jiuyao Manor, dressed in white with his long sword, and sit across from the screen, asking politely about her health and if she needed anything. The woman would sit behind the screen, responding with equal politeness, maintaining her usual grace and pride.
The pain of losing her son had gradually healed, and her madness had long since subsided, but the light in her eyes was fading bit by bit.
Each time he came, she would speak very little. She would only stare at the blurred figure on the other side of the screen, her expression dazed—as if she had come to realize that this man would spend the rest of his life on the other side of the screen, never stepping closer.
She had always been proud, and he had always followed her.
She was used to being pursued, used to being cared for, but she didn’t know how to lower herself. So, now that he had become the leader of the Central Plains and kept his distance, her pride would not allow her to be the first to lower her head.
The story of their love, full of heartache and passion, was widely circulated in the martial world. People said that Master Huo was a brilliant man, and even more so, a man deeply devoted to love. They lamented his unwavering loyalty and criticized her coldness. She, however, only sneered—
Only she knew that she had lost him long ago, though she didn’t know exactly when it had happened.
For eight years, she had watched him travel far and wide for her, risking his life time and again. No matter how she treated him, he had never complained. She once believed that he would be her prisoner forever—
But he had broken free of the shackles of fate long before she realized it.
Where did his heart belong now?
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