Chapter Three

For some reason, a heavy snow began to fall in the middle of the night, accompanied by a howling gale. It was highly unusual, yet in the vast, snow-covered expanse, a solitary figure was slowly moving.

Mu Xiangming, carrying the unconscious Lin He on her back, braced herself against the blizzard. Leaning on a staff, she took step after step along the path toward her teacher’s home. The snow on the trail was five feet deep; her lower body was completely submerged. At times she moved slowly, at others quickly; sometimes she wept, and sometimes she summoned her strength; she fell, and she rose again. When she slowed, she would look at Lin He’s face, which spurred her to quicken her pace. When she wept, she would recall her aunt’s words, and strength would return to her.

Snowflakes constantly descended upon them, gradually piling up. From a distance, they seemed to blend into the color of the earth itself. The moment Mu Xiangming reached the village and entered the courtyard with Lin He on her back, her consciousness was fading from the bitter cold. She knocked on the door, then collapsed into the snow. As she slipped into unconsciousness, she reached out to hold Lin He’s hand, but she fainted before she could grasp it.

As dawn approached, the snow intensified. The wind screamed like ghosts and spirits, as if trying to terrorize those inside the house.

Inside, a fire was crackling. Lin Zhongcheng had prepared breakfast; it seemed as though nothing had changed. He Yuyun had put on a beautiful pink dress—the same one she wore when she first met her husband.

"Did you make too much breakfast today?"

Lin Zhongcheng smiled faintly. "It is the same amount as always, neither more nor less."

The two embraced and shared a deep kiss.

Outside, the house was swarmed by soldiers. They surrounded the courtyard, and not far away, a squad of archers stood ready, their arrows nocked and strings drawn, aiming at the house.

A palanquin was lowered, and a man stepped out, dressed in a yellow robe with a golden cap. He stood seven feet tall, his every movement noble yet deliberate. His sharp, eagle-like eyes stared at the wooden house as if it were prey.

The door opened.

"I have long admired your reputations! Today, I finally see you both."

He Yuyun said, "The majestic Second Prince of the Manzhou Empire—to use such a massive force against a commoner’s home, do you not find it ridiculous?"

The Second Prince laughed. "Commoners? You once single-handedly assassinated my father in the Manzhou imperial district and escaped despite a hundred martial guards. How can you call yourselves commoners?"

He Yuyun sneered. "Heh! The Great Emperor Zhong was cruel, oppressive, and tyrannical, leaving the people in misery and despair. He was devoid of humanity! Heaven could not tolerate it! I was merely acting on behalf of the heavens."

The Second Prince laughed heartily. "Well said! And you killed him well! I do not care about that old man’s life; it is just that you forced my elder brother to the throne prematurely. I had planned to kill him myself, but now that he is Emperor, I cannot touch him, nor can I kill him." His tone grew heavy.

Seeing them remain silent, he softened his expression and continued:

"However, I did not come today to take your lives. When you escaped years ago, you were unfortunately struck by Qu Yuansong’s poisoned sword. The venom on that blade was the legendary 'Five Elements Black Poison,' the most lethal toxin in the world. If you choose to fight, you truly cannot defeat this Master Qin."

A long-haired man in black, holding a precious sword, stepped forward. He was in his thirties, and his aura was in no way inferior to the Second Prince.

He Yuyun immediately recognized the sword; the hilt was carved from black wood into the shape of a dragon’s head, and the scabbard was carved with a dragon’s body. He was a disciple of the Deng School!

He Yuyun whispered to her husband, "This man is no simple foe. He is from the Deng School, perhaps a disciple of Deng Qiugeng! But martial artists have never involved themselves in state affairs. It seems the Second Prince has a plan."

Lin Zhongcheng nodded slowly and called out to the Second Prince, "You are the ruler of a nation, with ten thousand people beneath you. Could you possibly have any common ground with us?"

The Second Prince smiled. "No matter! The vengeance for my father means little to me. As long as you and your wife are willing to submit to me, not only will I forgive you, but I will grant you supreme status and wealth that you could not spend in lifetimes!"

He Yuyun chuckled dryly. "You wish to rally the martial arts world to help you reclaim power?"

The Second Prince clapped. "Excellent, you are clever." He lowered his hand. "Two choices: come with me, or die here."

He Yuyun looked at her husband. Perhaps the offer was too tempting; she feared he might be moved, and she wanted to know his choice.

They locked eyes. Lin Zhongcheng understood his wife’s heart and stroked her hair.

"Yu’er, we should be content."

Upon hearing this, He Yuyun’s complexion brightened significantly. Her snow-white face flushed with a hint of red; she was so beautiful in that moment, just as she was when they first met, so beautiful that he felt as if he could no longer breathe.

The Second Prince watched them, and when Qin Zhaotian reached for his sword, he stopped him with a wave of his hand.

Suddenly, the snow stopped! He Yuyun reacted instantly, launching three silver needles. The Second Prince, a mere mortal, could not dodge them, but Qin Zhaotian drew his sword with blinding speed. The blade moved so quickly it was invisible to the naked eye; there were only three crisp, melodic sounds as the needles were sliced in half and fell into the snow.

Qin Zhaotian looked at the needles on the ground. "Indeed, it is the 'Nine Heavens of Desire'!" He threw his scabbard aside and flew toward them.

Lin Zhongcheng spread his arms and leaped into the air to meet him, forming his hands into a Bodhisattva gesture. He was using the Lin family’s "Thousand-Hand Bodhisattva Palm."

He Yuyun watched the duel closely. Qin Zhaotian was using the Deng family’s "Crimson Moon Immortal Sword Technique," created by the Sword Master Chen Shimin. The style was ever-changing and fast as lightning, leaving behind streaks of afterimages. Every strike produced a crisp chime, forcing his opponent into a corner with no defense.

Qin Zhaotian’s lightness skill was thirty percent superior to Lin Zhongcheng’s, and by occupying the higher ground, every one of his strikes became even more treacherous. Lin Zhongcheng could only dodge, forced to retreat and descend; he had no opportunity to attack.

He Yuyun seized the moment. She threw three silver needles and leaped into the air! Qin Zhaotian quickly shifted his position, stepping on Lin Zhongcheng to fly upward.

The "Nine Heavens of Desire" was indeed a masterwork of lightness technique. He Yuyun leaped at least ten yards high! Qin Zhaotian thrust his sword upward, but He Yuyun bent her knees, stepped on the tip of his blade, and used it to propel herself even higher like a dragonfly skimming the water.

The soldiers were stunned! Even Qin Zhaotian was shocked. "Body as still as steel, movement as light as a leaf; with power exceeding the spring of three lives, watching the autumn leaves fall." These were the lines Tao Zhiming once wrote to praise his soulmate’s martial arts.

Once the distance was opened, the "Crimson Moon Immortal Sword Technique" was useless. He Yuyun, occupying the absolute high ground, unleashed a barrage of silver needles at Qin Zhaotian.

Seeing this, Qin Zhaotian said, "I truly underestimated you!" He immediately switched his sword style.

It was the "Turning Back from the Bitter Sea" sword technique!

This was the signature style of the Sword Master Chen Shimin, the only technique in the world capable of truly reaching the "Peak of Sword Intent." Chen Shimin had used this very style to end the two-hundred-year-long martial arts era of the Jin dynasties and had cemented his place as the number one in the world.

Although Qin Zhaotian was only using the opening moves, which required significant accumulation of sword energy, the snow around him began to swirl, forming a white barrier that prevented He Yuyun’s needles from reaching him.

As soon as Qin Zhaotian finished charging, he unleashed a wave of sword energy at He Yuyun! Lin Zhongcheng realized the danger—He Yuyun had no footing in the air and was a living target. He leaped up to intercept the energy.

The sword energy sliced across his arm, severing it entirely.

"Zhongcheng!!" He Yuyun screamed. She dove down, catching her husband with one hand and clutching his severed arm with the other.

Qin Zhaotian prepared to strike again.

"Stay your blade!" the Second Prince commanded urgently.

The army retreated. The once-warm courtyard became deathly quiet. The fire in the stove had long since gone out, leaving only cold charcoal. The bowl of porridge on the table, unfinished, was already covered in a thin layer of ice. This house was not meant to be this way; it should have had sunlight, laughter, smoke from the hearth, and light. Yet, for some reason, it had lost everything in a single day.

That night, an old man and a woman arrived. Seeing the blood already fading into the snow, the woman knelt and wept bitterly. Perhaps heaven could not bear to watch; it immediately began to snow again, heavier and heavier, as if trying to cover everything.