A City Swept by Wind and Snow GL - Chapter 22

◎“So when you once said that you might turn into a demon… did you mean there’s truly a demon living inside you?”◎

At Lingbo Pavilion, Yaqin Manor.

Xue Qianxun declared with absolute conviction that she must master martial arts!
By which she meant, of course, that she hoped Xifeng and Jinse—who stood before her—would teach her something.

Xifeng cast her a cool glance and said flatly,

“Absolutely not. Forget that idea.”

“Why? I want to go to the Water Moon Palace with you!”

“Our team doesn’t need a half-trained burden,” Xifeng replied mercilessly. “You’d only hold us back.”

Xue Qianxun froze, said nothing, and walked away from the pavilion, downcast.

Outside, Jinse blocked Xifeng’s path.

“Why did you stop her?”

“She’s not suited for the martial world.”

“But she’s already in it,” Jinse countered. Then her eyes sharpened. “Xifeng—no, I should call you someone’s substitute—are you lying to yourself, or just treating Xue Qianxun like a fool?”

Xifeng’s brow twitched slightly. She met Jinse’s gaze.

“You’re very clever,” she said slowly.

“And I believe you’re not stupid,” Jinse replied evenly. “Which makes your intentions even harder to understand.”

Xifeng asked in return, “How much do you really know about her past?”

“She was born into a noble martial family, and had a powerful double. Before the Su Sha clan was wiped out, she must have been adored by all. But that ‘Demon Extermination Order’ shattered her paradise—it was a fall from heaven straight into hell.”

Xifeng smiled bitterly.

“You think her childhood was like a princess’s? You’re wrong. She was a prisoner—alone, suspended in emptiness. She’s never seen heaven.”

Jinse looked at her in confusion.

“Did you forget what I told you? Only seven people in the Su Sha clan knew who she really was.”

Jinse remembered.

Xifeng continued,

“She spent her entire childhood on Sacred Lang Peak by the sea, with two mute old women to care for her. They didn’t know who she was—and neither did she. When I turned ten, I was admitted among the clan’s top fighters. That was when the clan leader, Su Sha Xingjian—her father—first brought me to that house atop the mountain.”

“The first time I saw her… she was like a crystal doll—pure, flawless, and fragile as glass. She sat motionless within a white gauze canopy, as though bound by invisible chains. She looked at me with clear eyes, her lips moving slightly, but no sound came. After years of isolation, she had nearly forgotten how to speak. Finally, she stepped out of the canopy and touched my mask with her pale fingers. In a halting, awkward voice, she asked, ‘You, radiant and unlonely one… my “double”—Su Sha Qianxun… are you the one who possesses everything of mine, who exists in my place?’”

Xifeng drew in a heavy breath, as if suffocating.

“When we first met… she hated me so much.”

“So that’s why she stabbed your arm with a hairpin?” Jinse recalled what Xue Qianxun had said about that scar.

Xifeng smiled faintly in confirmation.

Jinse’s heart trembled. So she lived so long in loneliness and self-abasement?

“Then… what exactly are you to her?” Jinse’s eyes were luminous. She knew how deeply Xue Qianxun depended on Xifeng—beyond all other attachments.

Xifeng repeated softly, almost to herself,

“What am I… to her? Even I don’t know.”

Jinse sighed.

“Whatever you think, I’ve decided to teach her martial arts. We can’t promise we’ll always be by her side.”

Xifeng’s gaze shifted, complex and unreadable. She said nothing.

Jinse pressed on.

“You can’t promise that either, can you? After the fall of the Su Sha clan, you’ve lived as the exalted High Priestess of the Xiaoyao Sect. You didn’t even know when she arrived in Xinjing.”

Xifeng bit her lip, her face pale. After a long silence, she said,

“And what about you? You’ll leave her a set of martial skills, so that when you abandon her one day, you can feel no regret?”

Jinse’s eyes darkened, but her voice was calm.

“Not ‘if I abandon her’—but if one day I suddenly die…”

Xifeng pressed a finger against Jinse’s lips.

“How could you just ‘suddenly die’?”

Jinse removed her hand gently and smiled.

“You can’t expect everyone to be like you—to have an undying body.”

An undying body…
Xifeng mocked herself inwardly. She’d lost count of how many times she’d thought she was going to die.

“Fine,” Xifeng said at last, a faint smile curving her lips. “If you wish it, teach her. But if you truly want to protect someone—first, keep yourself alive. And grow stronger.”

With that, she gathered her energy and vanished into the wind.

“But she’s your companion star! How can you abandon her?” Jinse’s cry echoed upward—but Xifeng was already gone.

Yet Jinse’s words, charged with inner power, pierced through the wind into Xifeng’s ears:

“You are her companion star!”

From the day Xifeng could remember, Su Sha Xingjian had told her so:

“You were born for her, to fight for her, to die for her, to rise again for her. Your fates are bound together, moving along the same path—until it ends.”

But even Su Sha Xingjian could not foresee that, above the heavens, an unseen hand had quietly rearranged the stars.
A stray, invisible star had already entered their constellation.

Xifeng looked up into the sky.

“If one day I am no longer myself,” she prayed silently, “let her fate part from mine.”

Later

Zhuque hurried toward Hengbo Pavilion. Jinse intercepted her.

“Sister Zhuque!”

Zhuque caught her breath.

“Jinse? Why are you here? Not going back to Spring River Court?”

“From today, I’m no longer in charge of Spring River Court.”

“What? Then the flowers have no queen!” Zhuque gasped.

Jinse laughed softly. “No queen of flowers?”

“I mean, no head courtesan,” Zhuque corrected, then asked, “Does the prince know?”

“Of course. I’ve reported to him. The new mistress is Rumeng.”

“One of the Four Great Beauties? Can she handle it?”

“I’ve observed her long enough. She’s steady. And though she claims to be twenty-two, she’s actually twenty-seven—her prime won’t last much longer anyway.”

“Hmm. If you’ve chosen her, she’ll do fine.” Zhuque relaxed, then grinned. “Still… you’re only nineteen, and already giving orders? You’ll cause a stir again.”

“Do you dislike me that much, sister?” Jinse teased.

“I don’t dislike you,” Zhuque said seriously. “I’m afraid of you.”

Jinse laughed—Zhuque’s presence always lightened her mood. “Where are you rushing off to, anyway?”

“To Xiaoyao Palace—to find Elder Qin Ying.”

“Oh? That bookworm? Why?”

“To borrow martial manuals. Little Sister Xue wants to study.”

Jinse understood instantly.
So, Xue Qianxun had slipped away to find her own path.

“No need to go,” Jinse said, smiling. “If she wants to learn martial arts, what could be better than learning directly from a genius master?”

A Test of Talent

Prodigies in martial arts are rare. The Su Sha clan was famous precisely for its abundance of such talent.
Thus, when Xue Qianxun began training in Wave-Stepping under Jinse, Jinse’s expectations were high.

But reality disappointed her.

Xue Qianxun gazed up at Jinse, who lounged on a tree branch above her. Sweat dripped down her brow; her expression was pitiful.

“Still no progress?” Jinse descended gracefully, voice gentle.

“I… I can’t learn it.” Xue Qianxun’s face was pale, her tone heavy with shame.

Jinse took her wrist, checked her pulse, and frowned. “Strange. After all these days, your pulse is still chaotic. You—”
She stopped herself from asking whether Xue Qianxun had practiced the breathing technique properly. She knew the girl wasn’t stupid.

“I must just be hopeless,” Xue Qianxun murmured. “You’ve taught me so many times, and I still can’t do it.”

She’d always been praised for her brilliance—whether in music, chess, calligraphy, painting, or even astronomy. She could even grasp the secrets of puppetcraft by intuition. Yet she simply could not learn Wave-Stepping.
Half a month of grueling effort, and still no trace of inner power.

Jinse moved behind her, pressing both palms to her shoulders, sending her own energy into Xue Qianxun.

“Try again—do exactly as I taught you.”

Xue Qianxun followed, but the energy Jinse sent seemed to vanish into a void, never transforming into inner strength.
Frustration, shame, and defiance all welled up within her.

Jinse, sensing her energy dissolving, grew alarmed. After a moment’s thought, her eyes lit up.

“I need to see someone,” she said. “Wait here.”

Not long after, she returned—with Xifeng.

Seeing her, Xue Qianxun’s heart sank. She must’ve come to laugh at my failure.
Blushing, she turned to leave.

“Wait, Qianxun,” Xifeng said softly.

“If you’re here to stop me—”

“I’m here to teach you.”

Xue Qianxun froze. Jinse smiled knowingly from a distance.

“But I’m stupid,” Xue Qianxun murmured. “Even Jinse couldn’t teach me.”

Xifeng glanced at Jinse, who gave a helpless shrug.

“Everyone’s body is different,” Xifeng explained calmly. “You may not be suited to Jinse’s methods.”

A glimmer of hope lit Xue Qianxun’s eyes. “Really?”

Xifeng nodded slightly. “Why don’t you try my way?”

Her face brightened. “When will you teach me?”

“Now.”

Xifeng began the lesson. Jinse watched with interest—and growing astonishment.
The internal method Xifeng taught was unlike any known martial art—it was entirely different in principle.

Wouldn’t this lead her into madness? Jinse wondered uneasily.

But no—Xifeng’s method worked.
On her first attempt, Xue Qianxun leapt five or six zhang high into the air. Shocked, she lost balance midair and fell backward.

Xifeng caught her gently and smiled. “See? You’re not stupid at all.”

Xue Qianxun’s eyes sparkled with joy.

“Clever, aren’t you?” Jinse teased as she approached. “You refused to teach her before just to make this grand entrance.”

Xifeng chuckled. “Your style is rare and subtle—no one else could master it easily.”

“I don’t like flattery,” Jinse said dryly.

“It wasn’t flattery,” Xifeng replied solemnly. “Truly. Now, I must trouble you to continue teaching her Wave-Stepping.”

Jinse blinked. When Xifeng called her sister, it meant she was genuinely serious.
She wanted to hear the reason.

Xifeng turned to Xue Qianxun.

“Before Jinse, I’d never seen a lightness skill like Wave-Stepping. It’s exquisite—beyond compare. I don’t know where she learned it. Normally, such techniques aren’t passed down lightly. Yet she taught you first, because you’re special to her. So cherish it. In danger, it may be your one means of escape.”

Jinse looked at Xifeng, smiling faintly. You understand my heart—and I, yours.

Xue Qianxun bowed her head. “I’ll do my best!”

“No need to risk your life,” Xifeng said. “Just focus. Don’t learn anything else for now. Practice the internal method I taught, and the movement Jinse showed you. If all goes well, you’ll have results in ten days.”

Jinse hadn’t believed anyone could grasp Wave-Stepping so quickly—yet Xue Qianxun did.
She was stunned not only by the girl’s talent but by Xifeng’s mysterious technique.

Once, when Jinse examined Xue Qianxun’s pulse again, she found—astonishingly—that there was still no true qi in her body.
Instead, a different, powerful vital current coursed through her bl00d—something even stronger than inner energy itself.

A realization dawned on Jinse: this wasn’t merely a matter of differing constitutions. Xue Qianxun was beyond extraordinary. Perhaps she was…

—Xifeng is hiding something.

“You really are hard to fool,” Xifeng said, impressed. “No wonder you’re the greatest beast tamer alive—your sense for life-waves is unmatched.”

“You never meant to hide it from me for long, did you?” Jinse replied coolly.

Xifeng smiled. “No. No matter where you came from or who stands behind you—if there’s anyone in this world I can fully trust, Jinse, it’s you.”

Jinse inclined her head. “Thank you. Now, tell me.”

“Have you heard of those born without true qi in their bodies?” Xifeng began.

Jinse nodded. “Whose bodies contain another kind of vital wave instead of qi. I’ve heard of them—but never met one…” Her voice suddenly caught. “Don’t tell me—”

“This time, you’ve met one.”

“Then the powerful current in her body is…”

“Spirit Energy,” Xifeng said.

Jinse’s eyes widened.

“Xue Qianxun… is a spiritual constitution! The legendary inheritance of the ancient dragon bloodline?!”

“So I taught her not a method of cultivating qi—but of cultivating spirit.”

Jinse scoffed.

“You could’ve said so earlier! You let me look like a failure just to make a dramatic entrance. So sly—you had to outshine me.”

Xifeng looked melancholy.

“She’d never think you’re inferior to me. You don’t know how much she trusts you. I’d never seen her show so many expressions—or talk so much—until she met you.”

Jinse narrowed her eyes. “You keep eavesdropping by her window at Spring River Court. Don’t think I don’t know.”

Xifeng blushed. “When did you find out?”

“You went too often—it was impossible not to notice. You care about her so much, yet you pretend you don’t.”

Xifeng’s eyes flickered with frustration, even anger.

But Jinse only smiled.

“You swore not to teach her, yet you’ve done nothing but protect her all along.”

“She was so eager to go to Water Moon Palace,” Xifeng muttered. “So reckless, even without skills. If she had skills, she’d be even harder to stop. But… she minds her weakness deeply. She wants to be strong, yet keeps thinking she’s useless. Lately she’s been so low. I couldn’t bear it—that’s why I taught her.”

“Soft-hearted fool,” Jinse said with a laugh—then suddenly went still.

“Wait… how do you know methods for cultivating spirit? You… have Su Sha bl00d too?”

“Mm. I’m a spiritual body as well. Though not everyone with Su Sha bloodline has it,” Xifeng added with a mischievous smile.

“Fine, fine—you’re amazing,” Jinse said, pushing her face away. “Don’t be so smug.”

“Hey!” Xifeng protested. “Jealous, are you?”

“Of course. I’m furious with envy, mighty High Priestess,” Jinse said archly.

Xifeng sighed, smiling faintly. “And I envy you, mysterious beast tamer.”

“Between us, you’re the one who hides the most,” Jinse said. “I didn’t even realize how badly you were injured by those three blades. If I’d known, I’d never have let you duel Tang Fei. Yet even in that state, you unleashed such terrifying power. Are you even human?”

Xifeng’s smile thinned. “You’ve already realized—that wasn’t my power.”

“Zhuque let it slip,” Jinse said. “She told me your strength comes from something else. Tell me—what is it?”

Xifeng’s expression turned faint, her tone distant.

“Another soul,” she said. Then frowned slightly. “A troublesome being—it keeps trying to devour me.”

Jinse was stunned.

“So when you said you might become a demon—you meant there’s truly a demon living in you?”

“Yes. It’s another conscious soul. I can’t let myself weaken, can’t get drunk, can’t even fall into deep sleep.”

Jinse’s face went white as paper.
Her own long-suspected fear had been confirmed. The visions she had foreseen but could not understand—now made sense.
She finally knew what would come.

She could no longer smile. Her chest ached with grief and helplessness.
Now she understood: when Xifeng said she might “become another person,” she meant true spiritual possession.

Jinse reached out, her long fingers tapping Xifeng’s shoulder.

“If one day you disappear without a word,” she said softly but fiercely, “I’ll never forgive you. Not in this life, not the next, not ever.”

She turned and left.

Xifeng stared after her, momentarily dazed.

“Jinse… maybe you’re even more powerful than I thought,” she murmured.

Jinse, however, hated her so-called foresight.

The more secrets one sees, the more pain one bears.
To see every path ahead—and still be powerless to change it—
That is the cruelest curse of all.