The next moment, he regretted it deeply, remembering a joke that had once spread through the martial world: the so-called King of Gambling, Xuan Yuan Sanguang, had once played rock-paper-scissors with the Master of Medicine Valley while seeking treatment. After a three-day battle, he was kicked out of the valley wearing nothing but his underpants, having lost not only ten thousand taels of medical fees but also the million-plus fortune he had accumulated over the years.
"Alright then, let’s begin!" Seeing that he had taken the bait, Xue Zi Ye narrowed her eyes like a cat, confidently stretching out her hand and shouting at lightning speed, "Three stars shining, five winners! You lost! Now, quick, drink up, and let me ask my question!"
...
Huo Zhan Bai couldn’t remember exactly how long that drinking bout lasted. When he woke, night had already fallen, the wind had turned cold, and faint snowflakes were drifting down in the courtyard. The fire beside him still burned, but the wine pot was empty. The table was a mess of scattered cups, and Xue Zi Ye, at some point, had moved to sit on the couch next to him, now fast asleep with her head resting on the table.
Thanks to his heightened senses from years of sword training, he had managed to win at least ten rounds against her, but it seemed even this woman had her limits.
But... but... He lifted his heavy head, shaking it in the cold wind, struggling to recall what he had said. He vaguely remembered drinking a lot and answering question after question. Those questions... those were things he normally would never have spoken about.
"Why didn’t you take the position of master of the Dingjian Pavilion? Didn’t they already pass the Mohun Sword to you?"
"Because... at that time, Xu Zhong Hua also wanted to lead the Pavilion... Qiu Shui begged me, so I..."
"So it was for a woman! But in the end, the old master didn’t pass the position to Xu, did he?"
"That’s a second question. First, let’s play another round!"
"Nine rings... full house! I won again! Now answer."
"Uh... because... the elders didn’t approve of him. They said his character wasn’t upright enough, and his martial skills weren’t up to par. So... the old master didn’t give him the position."
"Oh... come on, let’s go again!"
She had asked directly, without any restraint, and emboldened by the alcohol, he didn’t hide anything either.
Besides, Mo’er’s medicine was almost ready. Those things were soon going to be in the past... there was no need to keep them hidden anymore.
His life story was no secret in the martial world of the Central Plains:
He had originally been the top disciple of the Tianshan Sect, gifted beyond his years, becoming one of the most skilled swordsmen in the martial world at a young age. The old master of the Dingjian Pavilion had personally invited him to join, making him one of the eight famous swordsmen of the Pavilion. At fifteen, he fell deeply in love with his junior sister, Qiu Shui Yin, and for over a decade, he harbored an unrequited love. However, Qiu Shui Yin married another of the eight famous swordsmen, Xu Zhong Hua from the Xu family of Runan.
Despite his heartbreak, he remained devoted to her, even giving up the chance to become master of the Pavilion to avoid competing with her husband.
However, when the elders blocked Xu Zhong Hua’s attempt to take over the Pavilion, Xu, known for his extreme temper, lashed out, injuring several elders who opposed him before fleeing to join the Demon Sect’s Palace of Great Light.
Huo Zhan Bai had been ordered to capture him and eventually killed him beside the Sea of Stars in Western Kunlun.
Afterward, he was highly valued by the old master, who repeatedly invited him to become the Pavilion's new leader, but he declined every time.
"Why did you volunteer to hunt him down?" Even in her drunken state, Xue Zi Ye’s mind remained sharp as she slurred the question. "It was a thankless task... you knew that."
He smiled bitterly, about to say something, but his drunken eyes suddenly cleared, and he fell silent again.
"Qiu Shui asked me to..." he eventually lowered his head and grasped his cup. "Because if someone else went... they might not bring him back alive. His reputation was too bad."
"But... you didn’t bring him back alive either..." she murmured, her voice heavy with drink. "You ended up killing him."
Huo Zhan Bai abruptly lifted his gaze, staring at her.
Even though the alcohol had warmed his blood, the mention of that moment drained the color from his face—it was a decision he would never forget, the most difficult choice he had ever made during that duel in Western Kunlun.
In the end, he returned to the Central Plains alone, bringing Xu Zhong Hua’s sword as a relic to Qiu Shui Yin.
Upon hearing the news of her husband’s death, Qiu Shui Yin went into premature labor and fell gravely ill, harboring a deep hatred for Huo ever since.
"Heh... listening to all this, it sounds like from beginning to end... none of it had anything to do with you. Someone else’s lover, someone else’s wife, someone else’s child... from start to finish, what part did you play? Why did you fight so hard for it all?" After asking all her questions, Xue Zi Ye, now thoroughly drunk, leaned on the table, laughing uncontrollably. Her words cut him deeply. She suddenly punched him in the shoulder, "Huo Zhan Bai, you’re a... a big fool... such a big fool!"
Drunk, her punch landed harder than usual, making him yelp in pain.
But as she laughed, tears started to fall.
He was startled to see the usually composed Xue Zi Ye collapse onto the wine-stained table, laughing and crying at the same time, mumbling incoherently. He couldn’t understand any of it. He had wanted to learn more about her, but in the end, it was his own past that had come pouring out. She was clever, even during their rock-paper-scissors matches, managing to dodge his questions with various tricks.
He had only learned a few scattered details: for example, that before coming to the Medicine Valley, she had lived in a place called the Mojia village; and that the person under the ice had died while escaping with her... but what exactly had led to their departure and his death, she hadn’t mentioned.
Even in her current state, she still wouldn’t let go of her inner turmoil. She only wept and laughed without reason, occasionally looking up at him and repeatedly murmuring, "I’m sorry."
Sorry for what? If anything, he owed her.
In the end, she fell into a deep sleep, and he, too, succumbed to the effects of the alcohol, drifting off.
When he woke, the moon was shining brightly, and faint snow was falling through the night sky. The snow hawk was still hanging upside down on the perch, muttering softly. The fragrance of white plum blossoms filled the air, and the flames in the clay stove flickered quietly, casting their warm light over their faces—everything suddenly felt more peaceful than it ever had before.
He lay there, feeling a long-forgotten sense of calm and contentment.
—For eight years, he had wandered through countless battles and endless dust, so much so that he had almost forgotten what peace felt like. Year after year, the moon rose, the snow fell, and yet he had never taken notice. Life was meant to be so tranquil and beautiful, so why was he still trapped in the distant past, unable to move on? From start to finish, none of it had really involved him.
Was he... truly a fool?
"Hmm..." The woman sleeping on the table stirred, mumbling something as she curled up.
Jolted out of his reverie, he looked at the drunken, unconscious Xue Zi Ye and sighed softly, shaking his head: this woman wasn’t young anymore, yet she still didn’t know how to take care of herself... falling asleep at the table in such cold weather.
He gently lifted her from the table, intending to move her to the couch. But as he did, she leaned her head against his shoulder and continued sleeping soundly. He found himself both amused and helpless, so he let her rest against him, kicking the blanket that had fallen to the floor back onto the couch and pulling it over her, wrapping her up warmly.
"Xue Huai..." she suddenly mumbled, curling up tighter. "Cold... it’s so cold..."
She trembled slightly, nestling closer to him like a cold, frightened cat. Her expression, even in sleep, was one of confusion and vulnerability, as though she were seeking warmth and comfort. He didn’t dare move, letting her rest her head against his chest. She rubbed her face against him, then sighed in contentment and drifted back into a deeper sleep.
He felt his heart skip a few beats, then immediately looked down, flustered, to see if the woman who so often toyed with him was only pretending to sleep—but she was fast asleep, her face still flushed from the wine.
Relieved, he gently wrapped her more tightly in the blanket, holding her close as he gazed up at the snowy moonlight.
The world around him felt both vast and full, as if even the falling snow was warm.
As he watched the sleeping woman beside him, a sense of warmth blossomed in his heart.
If only it could always be like this... Life was a heavy race, and both of them were already exhausted. So why not pause for a moment and spend one night like this, drinking together? In this fleeting life, everything was an illusion, transient and unreliable. Nothing was permanent—no matter how deep the love once was, time would eventually erode it.
Only the steady breathing of the person beside him was real, only this night of sharing warmth was real.
This feeling... was perhaps what it meant to rely on one another.
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