“No… No!” The boy suddenly shoved him away and stubbornly continued chasing the pair along the frozen river. In just a few moments, he was only three zhang (about 10 meters) away from the fleeing teenagers. Yet the two of them, holding hands tightly, ran without looking back, escaping along the icy river.
“Still going to chase them?” Miao Feng leaped forward, casting a sideways glance at the boy with a slight smile. “Well then, alright—”
His arm dropped, and he struck the ice with a powerful blow!
Crack! The thick ice suddenly split open, and the crack expanded like lightning. The frozen river shattered in an instant, the cold, dark water opening its jaws and swallowing the two teenagers who had been running across it!
“It’s over now.” He withdrew his hand, smiling at the boy who stood there, stunned, and watched as he slowly collapsed to his knees, screaming in despair.
...
Was it really over? No.
Twelve years later, under the snowy night of the desolate plains, the shadow of fate once again loomed over him.
“Xue Huai… it’s so cold…” The woman curled up tightly in the golden lynx fur cloak, her body trembling slightly. “So cold…”
Miao Feng looked down at her pale face, which now showed a deep reliance on him. In that moment, it felt as if a needle pierced straight into his heart, filling him with an overwhelming sense of sorrow and helplessness, almost enough to shatter him. Before he even realized it, a tear slipped from the corner of his eye and froze instantly.
As the first tear in fifteen years fell, the smile disappeared from his face.
He didn’t understand what this unfamiliar feeling was. He only closed his eyes in silence amid the wind and snow.
He had once been the last survivor of the Loulan royal family, a witness to the decline and destruction of his entire clan. Since the day the Holy Leader had rescued him from the bandits, his life had only one purpose—he was merely a sword in the Holy Leader’s hand. He lived for that one person, and he would die for that one person… never questioning why, never hesitating.
For so many years, he had been calm and at peace, never wavering.
But now… why did he feel such deep and hidden pain? Was he… feeling regret?
Was he regretting all the blood on his hands? Regretting the harm he had caused to the person in front of him?
He couldn’t answer. Instead, he silently removed the lynx fur cloak and tightly embraced the exhausted female doctor. The woman wrapped in the lynx fur slowly began to regain warmth. Her trembling body clung tightly to his chest, full of trust and dependence—
Completely unaware that the hands holding her were stained with blood.
* * *
The night watchman at the Uliyasutai outpost stumbled across a surreal scene in the dead of night:
Through the blizzard, a white-clad figure staggered forward, their strange blue hair flying wildly in the wind. Their clothes were splattered with blood, and they clutched a golden fur cloak tightly in their arms. The figure ran quickly, and by the time the startled watchman blinked himself fully awake, the person had already disappeared into the grove of willows, vanishing along the post road into the town.
“Am I… seeing things?” The watchman mumbled, rubbing his eyes as he held up his lantern to examine the ground.
There, deep footprints were imprinted in the snow, and beside them, drops of blood stained the white snow, stark and alarming.
When Xue Zi Ye awoke, it was already the next morning at dawn.
This time, she wasn’t in the carriage. She lay peacefully on a kang (a traditional heated bed), covered by three thick blankets. Her body felt warm, and her internal energy flowed smoothly. A fire was burning in the room, making it comfortably warm. Outside the guest house, the willows were lush and green, their shade stretching like soft silk. Someone was playing the flute.
What surprised her, though, was that this time, Miao Feng wasn’t beside her.
How odd. Where could he have gone?
“Summer’s day, winter’s night, after a hundred years, return to one’s resting place.
“Winter’s night, summer’s day, after a hundred years, return to one’s room.”
It was Ge Sheng—the familiar tune made her pause, feeling a surge of gratitude. She understood that Miao Feng was using the gentlest way possible to comfort her. The man in white, who always smiled, carried a hidden, deadly aura that could kill without a trace. And yet, he possessed a delicate heart, one that could quickly perceive the emotions of others.
She got out of bed and walked to the window. However, the music suddenly stopped, as if the flute player had also fallen into silence at that moment.
Moments later, another melody began.
When she pushed open the window, she saw the white-robed man playing a flute amidst the willows. Miao Feng sat on a horizontal branch of a willow tree, leaning against its trunk, his head slightly tilted back, eyes closed as he played a short flute. The haunting melody flowed from his fingers, drifting along with his white robes and blue hair, dancing lightly in the wind.
The music was strange—unlike any tune from the Central Plains—infused with a mysterious sorrow. It was as if someone under the vast sky lifted their head and sighed deeply, or as if a campfire flickered in the darkness, casting its glow on the cheeks of a dancing girl. The melody was both joyful and melancholic, passionate yet enigmatic, like water and fire blending together in harmonious bloom.
For a moment, Xue Zi Ye was at a loss for words—was this a dream? In such a vast and desolate land, there existed a place like Uliyasutai; and amidst these willows, she could hear such a beautiful, heart-rending tune.
“Awake?” The flute music stopped abruptly the moment she opened the window. Miao Feng opened his eyes. “Have you rested well?”
She nodded blankly, suddenly feeling a sense of loss, as if the dream had been shattered.
“Then once we’ve had breakfast, we should be on our way.” He looked up at the sky, his expression somewhat distant. After a moment’s pause, he seemed to come to his senses, putting away the flute and jumping down from the tree. “I’ll go check if the new horses have been fed properly.”
As he brushed past her, Xue Zi Ye felt an odd sensation but couldn’t quite pinpoint why.
It wasn’t until his figure disappeared into the grove of willows that she realized what had felt unnatural—on that face, which was always graced with a smile, the smile had vanished without a trace!
What… could he be grieving over?
With a heavy payment, they hired the best coachman in Uliyasutai, and the carriage sped along the post road.
Inside the carriage, Xue Zi Ye kept glancing anxiously at Miao Feng. All the way, he sat holding a short flute, staring blankly out at the vast, snowy landscape, not saying a word—the strangest part was that there wasn’t a trace of a smile on his face.
“What’s wrong?” Unable to bear the silence, she finally broke it. “Has your wound worsened?”
“No.” Miao Feng replied calmly, “Your medicine is very effective.”
“Then,” she looked at him in confusion, “why aren’t you smiling?”
He turned to her in mild surprise. “Why should I smile?”
Xue Zi Ye was taken aback—Spring Breeze Technique was a martial art that altered the practitioner’s disposition and temperament, bringing inner harmony and peace, making them naturally exude a serene and gentle smile. From the moment she first met Miao Feng, she knew he had cultivated the technique deeply for over ten years, integrating its essence into his very being.
Yet now, that serene smile had disappeared from his face.
She felt a vague sense of concern but could only say, “So… you can play the flute?”
Miao Feng finally managed a faint smile and raised the instrument in his hand. “No, this isn’t a flute. It’s a bili, a musical instrument from the Western Regions—my elder sister taught me a few ancient songs of Loulan when I was young. Unfortunately, I’ve forgotten most of them.”
He tilted his head slightly, looking at the clear blue sky after the snowfall, and let out a long sigh.
“Back then, my name was Yami…”
It had been so long since he last thought of these things… For more than ten years, he had raced through the darkness, bathed in blood, using his sword to cut down anything that posed a threat to the Holy Leader. He hadn’t hesitated to put his life on the line to block all those who stood against the Holy Leader—such a life had been peaceful and satisfying, hadn’t it? Pure and resolute, without doubt, without hesitation, and without regret.
He never looked back on the past, for those memories were meaningless.
But why now… why did these long-buried memories suddenly resurface?
“You’re losing your composure.” In that moment of distraction, a hand gently pressed against the bindings on his chest. Xue Zi Ye looked at him with concern. “Your inner energy and emotions are starting to lose their balance. If this continues, it’ll be easy to stray off the right path. Let me use silver needles to seal your energy points, just in case—”
“There’s no need.” Miao Feng suddenly furrowed his brows, stepping back as if burned, and looked at her intently—
“Master Xue,” he said softly, with a smile that seemed to float between dream and reality, “you will regret this.”
Startled by his words and the dreamlike tone, Xue Zi Ye looked up at him, momentarily confused. Then she smiled. “Maybe… but that’s a matter for the future.” She deftly tied a knot in his bindings, then bit off the excess cloth with her teeth. “Right now, what kind of doctor would I be if I left my patient untreated?”
He fell silent, no longer resisting as she tended to his wound, but his eyes remained fixed on the deep blue sky of the Western Regions.
The mountains slowly receded behind them, the white snow glistening like pearls on a crown.
—In three more days, they would reach Kunlun, wouldn’t they?
He couldn’t help but lift the curtain and shout at the coachman in the language of the Western Regions, urging him to speed up.
It had been twenty-five days since he left the palace. They had encountered countless unexpected events along the way, but fortunately, it seemed they would still make it back before the one-month deadline. But what of the Grand Light Palace? What was the situation there now? Tong… could you have foreseen that I would bring an old acquaintance back with me?
But you probably don’t remember anymore… After all, that night, I saw the Holy Leader personally seal all your memories with three golden needles, forcing the shattered, kneeling boy by the river to return to the palace.
If I hadn’t knocked you unconscious then, you would have likely thrown yourself into the river, wouldn’t you?
You really were foolish back then…
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