A beautiful woman walked out from behind the mourning hall, dressed in white. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth as she staggered toward him, slowly extending her hands — her ten fingers had turned a horrifying purple-blue. He looked at the face that had haunted his dreams since his youth and found that in just half a year, she had become so gaunt that it was unbearable to look at.
His mind went blank, and he stood there, unable to move.
“Huo Zhan Bai, why are you always late…” she murmured, “always… too late…”
He wasn't sure if it was an illusion, but he seemed to see her once-black hair turning gray, strand by strand.
“Not good! Grab her!” Liao Qingran darted in with a single stride. Seeing her face and fingers, she cried out in alarm, “She’s poisoned herself! Grab her quickly!”
“What?” He snapped out of his daze, instinctively reaching for Qiu Shui Yin’s hand, but she deftly slipped away.
“Catch me if you can…” The woman in white twirled lightly, blood still staining her lips, her eyes both dazed and piercingly clear. Lifting the hem of her dress, she ran toward the back room, laughing softly, “Catch me… if you catch me, then I’ll—”
Before she could finish her sentence, Huo Zhan Bai had already darted forward like lightning, grabbing her by the shoulders and calling out in a trembling voice: “Qiu Shui!”
“If you catch me, I’ll kill you!!” Her eyes suddenly blazed with insane hatred. “I’ll kill you!”
“Watch out!” Liao Qingran shouted from behind, but it was too late. There was a ripping sound as a blade cut through Huo Zhan Bai’s shoulder. His face turned ashen, but he paid no mind to the wound. With a pulse of internal energy from his palm, he knocked the crazed woman unconscious in an instant.
“It’s too late… you couldn’t catch me…” Before fainting, the frail and emaciated woman raised her hand and viciously dug her fingers into his wounded shoulder. “I asked you to catch me… but you didn’t! You were too late…
“When I married into the Xu family, I waited for you to stop me, to take me away… why did you come so late?
“Later… I begged you to save my husband… but why did you come so late?
“A day ago, Mo'er took his last breath in my arms… why, why were you so late!!”
His blood flowed down her fingers, yet he seemed completely unaware.
"Ha, ha! Too late... too late! We've missed a lifetime together..." she muttered, her voice gradually weakening as she slowly collapsed to the ground. "Huo... Huo Zhan Bai... I hate you so much."
Liao Qingran quickly bent down to check her pulse and examine her complexion, then hurriedly fished out a bottle of emerald-green medicine from her pouch. “Duanchang Powder.”
— This woman must have waited in vain for a savior who never arrived, helplessly watching her only son die before her eyes. Driven to despair, she must have consumed this poison in a frenzy, trying to end her own life.
Unexpectedly, after racing all night to Lin'an, they had failed to save the one they had come for, and now they had to save someone they hadn't planned on.
Liao Qingran examined Qiu Shui Yin’s eyelids. “At this point, we'll need to watch over her for at least three days — but when she wakes, we'll also need to check if her mental state has been affected... her emotions were far too erratic earlier.”
However, when she looked up, the female doctor suddenly froze—
“Too late?” Huo Zhan Bai murmured. His hands began to tremble, as if overwhelmed by the flood of memories crashing down on him. Those vanished illusions, which had disappeared for so many nights, returned once again. He saw the beautiful young girl running through the apricot blossom grove, lifting the hem of her dress and turning back to smile at him — he had always thought it was a joke, unaware that it was her first and final request.
“Come and catch me... if you catch me, I’ll marry you.”
— Her smile replayed in his mind over and over again, only quickening his collapse.
He lowered his head in despair, staring at her pale, haggard face, and tears streamed down his cheeks.
He finally understood that the hand of fate, which had gripped his throat, had never loosened — it was destiny. Destiny had decreed his endless waiting and searching, and her wandering and resentment.
These entangled grievances were deeply rooted, impossible to unravel, like trying to sever water with a blade, completely unresolvable.
Outside, a vast snowstorm raged, blowing from the far northern lands and sweeping across the misty willows of the southern city.
In the heavy snow, a white bird flew against the wind, and the cloth tied to its leg fluttered wildly in the storm.
The night falls, snow threatens — where is the path home?
* * *
At the very moment when the woman who had lost her child laughed maniacally and drank poison, someone awoke in shock thousands of miles away.
Xue Zi Ye sat up suddenly in the middle of the night, feeling a strange chill.
In her dream just now, she had been running endlessly, chased by countless blood-stained blades... yet the person holding her hand wasn’t Xue Huai. Who was it? She had just turned her head to see the person’s face clearly when the ice beneath her feet cracked with a loud snap.
“Huo Zhan Bai!” she gasped, sitting up drenched in cold sweat.
The Summer Garden was quiet, deep in greenery, with countless luminous butterflies dancing in the night.
But as she sat beneath the window, recalling the dream, an ominous feeling began to rise in her heart. She didn’t know whether Huo Zhan Bai had reached Lin'an, whether Mo'er had been saved, and she had a sinking feeling that she might never see him again.
“Master Xue, is something wrong?” a voice suddenly spoke softly outside the window, startling her.
“Who?!” She pushed open the window and saw a head of unusual blue hair. Breathing a sigh of relief, she couldn’t suppress her irritation, grabbing a nearby cushion and throwing it. “What are you doing? You’re a patient, what are you doing lurking under my window in the middle of the night? Get back to bed!”
Miao Feng, caught off guard, kept his usual smile. He casually sidestepped, lifted his hand, and the cushion stopped obediently in midair as if it had eyes, landing in his hand.
“Before you arrive at the Palace of Great Light, I must ensure your safety at all times,” he said, returning the cushion with a slight bow.
“...” Xue Zi Ye was momentarily speechless and waved her hand dismissively. “Forget it, the valley is perfectly safe. You should go get some rest.”
“No need,” Miao Feng replied with his signature smile. “After years of guarding the Holy Leader, I’m already accustomed to it.”
Accustomed to not sleeping? Or accustomed to standing outside someone’s window all night? Or perhaps always ready to give up his life to protect someone at any moment? Xue Zi Ye looked at him for a moment, feeling a bit uncomfortable, and sighed before stepping outside, draping a robe over her shoulders.
“Master Xue, are you not going to sleep?” He sounded surprised.
“No,” she said, holding a glass lantern and walking toward the lake. “I had a nightmare and can't sleep.”
Miao Feng didn’t say anything further, simply following her quietly through the fern trees. All along the way, countless luminous butterflies swirled around him, several even attempting to perch on his shoulders.
Xue Zi Ye looked at him and couldn’t help but smile. “You really don’t seem like one of the Five Children of the Demon Sect.”
Miao Feng didn’t understand what she meant, so he just smiled.
“Someone with too much killing intent wouldn't have butterflies land on them,” Xue Zi Ye raised her hand, and another luminous butterfly folded its wings and perched on her fingertip. She looked at Miao Feng curiously, “Have you ever killed anyone?”
“Yes,” Miao Feng smiled slightly, without the slightest attempt to hide it, “and many.”
After a brief pause, he added, “I came out of the Asura Battlefield — out of 500 people, only Tong and I survived. The other 498 were all killed.”
Tong? Xue Zi Ye's body suddenly tensed. She silently tightened her grip on the lantern and turned away.
“You know Tong?” she heard herself ask, her voice trembling slightly.
Miao Feng was taken aback and paused. “I do.”
“How… did he end up in your sect?” Xue Zi Ye asked softly, her gaze gradually sharpening.
Miao Feng’s brow subtly raised, as if trying to gauge the reason behind her sudden question. However, his usual smile remained at the corners of his mouth. “That… I don’t know. Because from the time I met Tong, he had already lost his past memories.”
“...Is that so?” Xue Zi Ye sighed softly. “Are you his friend?”
Miao Feng smiled faintly and shook his head. “In the Asura battlefield, there are no friends.”
“That’s very strange…” Xue Zi Ye stopped by the lake, turning to look at him. “Both you and he have killed so many people, yet why is your killing intent so restrained? Are your martial skills superior to his?”
“You’re mistaken, Master Xue,” Miao Feng shook his head with a smile. “In a duel, I’m not necessarily a match for Tong.”
He turned his head and lightly picked up a luminous butterfly that had landed on his shoulder, smiling. “It’s just that, unlike him, I don’t preside over the Asura battlefield, always ready to draw my sword and fight to the death. Unless someone threatens the Holy Leader…” He moved his fingers, and the butterfly fluttered up to a branch. “I have no killing intent toward anyone.”
Xue Zi Ye looked at him, then suddenly smiled. “Interesting.”
She continued walking forward with her lantern, heading toward the center of the lake. Miao Feng followed her silently, his footsteps so light they seemed nonexistent.
The ice on the lake shimmered with fiery reflections. She couldn’t help but cough softly, lowering her gaze to look at the familiar face beneath the ice. Xue Huai… this might be the last time I come to see you. Tomorrow, I will go to that devil’s lair to bring back Ming Jie—
Your spirit in heaven will protect us, won’t it?
The young man’s body lay suspended in the icy water, eternally smiling, his eyes gently closed.
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