A City Swept by Wind and Snow GL - Chapter 23

◎ From this day on, he would never be able to catch her again. ◎

Since Xue Qianxun had mastered the technique of “Stepping on Waves,” Xifeng discovered that it was becoming harder and harder to keep her confined in the Yaqin Villa. One day—

“Let’s go chase down some prey!” Xifeng said, her beautiful brows full of excitement.

“Chase down prey?” Jinse stroked the soft fur of her little silver fox, amused by Xifeng’s peculiar choice of words. “I could play a single tune on my flute and summon a herd of animals. Why should I have to chase anything? No, no, I won’t be fooled by you again, running around like a madwoman.”

“Mm, but today you’re not allowed to use your Beast-Calling Art!” Xifeng’s hand brushed past Jinse’s sleeve and deftly stole away the emerald-green Spirit-Flute. “We’re only competing to see whose lightness skill is better.”

Sitting idly on a branch of an acacia tree, Xue Qianxun overheard their conversation and happily called down, “Jinse, come on! Let’s go catch a spotted deer!”

The early spring air was still sharp with chill. In the forest, a sudden rustling broke out—a deer dashed frantically through the trees, pursued by two shadows flying swift as the wind. Just as they were about to catch it—

“Pfft!” A soft sound, followed by a startled “Ow!”

The hand that had been about to seize the deer’s antlers froze in midair. Xifeng steadied herself and turned, frowning. “Qianxun, how do you always manage to fall at this exact moment?”

Curled up on the ground, Xue Qianxun laughed so hard her shoulders shook. Dusting off her palms, she said, “Because I wasn’t careful…”

“Not careful?” Xifeng echoed, her tone teasing. “That makes at least ten times. You’ve got great timing, though.”

“It’s because my lightness skill isn’t perfected yet,” Xue Qianxun said with mock seriousness.

Xifeng smiled faintly and extended a hand. Years might have passed, but her heart had not hardened.

“Eh? Where’s Jinse?” Xue Qianxun asked, brushing the dirt from her skirt.

Xifeng glanced toward the distant trees. “Don’t worry. She set hundreds of crows loose in this forest. She’ll find us easily enough.”

Even as she spoke, a loud fluttering filled the air. A dark cloud of crows took off all at once, blocking half the sunlight.

A strange unease gripped Xue Qianxun. “Is this… Jinse’s way of finding us?” she murmured.

Xifeng also sensed something was wrong. Instinctively, she tightened her hold on Xue Qianxun’s hand and scanned the skies. Then—

A piercing whistle came from the southeast, followed by the crows turning sharply in midair and diving in that direction.

“Looks like they’re not after us,” Xifeng said quietly, seizing Xue Qianxun’s hand. “Jinse might be in trouble.”

Xue Qianxun’s pulse jumped. “But Jinse’s Spirit-Flute—it’s with you, isn’t it?”

Xifeng’s expression darkened. After a pause, she said, “That’s exactly why I’m worried.”

“She—she ran into a wild beast too strong to tame?”

“No. There’s no beast in this forest Jinse couldn’t handle. I’m afraid she’s met another beast master—one whose power equals her own.”

Above Lake Lingbo.

The flock of crows swirled together like a restless black cloud. Jinse stood gracefully atop their backs, facing a crescent-shaped ring of wild beasts on the lakeshore.

At the center of the beasts sat a frail-looking boy on the back of a golden tiger. His thin face was pale with a sickly hue, but the tiger beneath him growled low, eyes glowing fiercely, ready to tear Jinse apart.

Jinse’s toes tapped rhythmically on the backs of the crows, keeping the uneasy flock gathered together. She knew well how precarious her situation was—their loyalty could break at any moment.

The boy smirked at her calm composure. “So, you’ve noticed?” he called out, his voice hoarse but proud.

Jinse smiled faintly. “You have skill—turning beasts against their own master.”

“You’ve realized, then, about the crows under your feet?” he sneered. “A dip in that icy lake wouldn’t feel too pleasant right now.”

Glancing at the water still crusted with thin ice, Jinse smiled again. “Don’t worry. Before I drag you down, I won’t so much as touch the water.”

The boy chuckled. “Such confidence! Let’s hope it lasts.”

Jinse’s tone turned lightly mocking. “You sound awfully self-assured for someone who should still be taking medicine.”

He laughed sharply. “I’ve heard that the most dazzling beast master from the Battle of Lingbo Lake months ago wields the tenth-ranked Spirit-Flute on the Weapon Registry. I wanted to see it for myself.”

Jinse spread her hands. “Unfortunately, you can’t. I don’t have it with me.”

He blinked, suspicious. “Telling your enemy your weapon’s missing? Brave, or just stupid.”

“Oh, I’m not courting death,” she said smoothly. “It’s just—I know you came looking for a worthy opponent, not a corpse. You wouldn’t strike down someone who won’t fight back.”

The boy broke into laughter.

“What’s so funny?” she asked.

“I’m delighted,” he said, eyes glinting. “Jinse, you haven’t disappointed me at all.”

“Perhaps not. It’s not every day you meet an opponent like me.”

“And an opponent like me?”

“You?” Jinse tilted her head, studying him with amused curiosity. “Little Wolf, there’s probably no one like you in a hundred years. The youngest beast master ever recorded by Nangong Qing himself.”

He froze. “You—how do you know who I am?”

“First, you’re clearly a beast master. Second, you’re very young—thirteen? No, twelve?” she teased, feigning deep thought.

His eyes flared with indignation. He leapt up from the tiger’s back and shouted, “I’m eighteen!”

Jinse chuckled behind her hand. “Well then, eighteen-year-old beast master, when will you call off those gossip-loving animals of yours?”

As they neared Lake Lingbo, Xifeng suddenly felt the murderous aura vanish. A fluttering storm of wings followed—the crows scattered and disappeared.

“Jinse’s crows are gone!” cried Xue Qianxun.

Xifeng gripped the Spirit-Flute hidden in her sleeve. “Jinse,” she thought, “if you can only be ‘Jinse’ when this flute is in your hand, I’ll never forgive you.”

The mirrorlike lake stretched before them. Beast tracks covered the shore—no sign of people.

Both hearts pounded violently.

“Jinse!” Xifeng’s voice rang out across the mountains.

Xue Qianxun’s breath caught; her hand trembled in Xifeng’s grasp. “What if something happened to her?”

“Jinse’s not the sort to die without a sound,” Xifeng said finally. “If I’m right, she’s somewhere watching us panic.”

Her words had barely fallen when laughter drifted down from above.

“As expected, only the great priestess understands me.”

Relieved, Xue Qianxun turned to see Jinse’s bright smile. She ran toward her, then stopped just short, whispering, “We thought you were hurt.”

Jinse looked deeply into her clear eyes and smiled softly.

Xifeng tossed the Spirit-Flute toward her. “Even if you beg me next time, I’m not keeping this thing again.”

Catching the flute, Jinse tossed back a scroll.

Xifeng unrolled it. “February the first… Tianyuan Martial Gathering—an invitation from Shuiyue Palace.”

“Xinghai invited the five top masters of our Xiaoyao Sect to Tianyuan Peak for a contest,” Jinse explained.

Xifeng’s lips curled coldly. “The triennial Tianyuan Gathering. How convenient—right when we’re preparing to declare war on Shuiyue Palace, they invite us first. Who brought it?”

“A boy named Little Wolf—well, a young man.”

“The youngest beast master in history, huh? So he’s with Shuiyue Palace.”

“He didn’t realize I was with the Xiaoyao Sect either.”

Xifeng’s smile turned knowing. “You two have found your match—a genius and a prodigy, both written of by Nangong Qing.”

Jinse laughed. “If you meet him first, don’t break him. Leave him to me.”

“Hmph. I don’t bully children.”

But Jinse’s grin grew sly.

“What now?” Xifeng frowned.

Trying not to laugh, Jinse said, “He doesn’t take you seriously, you know. Want to hear what he said about you?”

Xifeng’s face cooled.

“He said,” Jinse mimicked his tone, “‘I heard your sect’s pillar is some moody little woman who can’t even control herself—better tell her not to get drunk if she ever visits Shuiyue Palace.’”

Xifeng went white with rage. “That brat!”

“And, um…” Jinse added sweetly, “that brat looks about your age.”

“In that case,” Xifeng said through gritted teeth, “leave him to me.”

“It’s not that I won’t,” Jinse replied seriously, “but—you might be facing your strongest opponent yet.”

Xifeng looked at her intently.

Jinse’s expression hardened. “Little Wolf said one more thing: ‘They call your Xifeng the Demon King of Xiaoyao Sect, but in Shuiyue Palace—we have a real demon king.’”

Half a month before the Tianyuan Gathering, He Qishu arrived at Yaqin Villa.

“What does the Dragonkiss Master say?” he asked Xifeng.

“Exactly what Your Highness says,” she answered calmly.

“Good. I’ll have men meet you near the Zhuying Mountains.” He spoke methodically, then after a pause, added, “Xifeng, if your sect manages to swallow Shuiyue Palace this time—”

At that, Xifeng’s heart skipped. So he really plans to wipe them out completely…

North of Hengjiang, the number one martial sect wasn’t Xiaoyao, but Shuiyue Palace. Yet He Qishu said “swallow” as casually as ordering tea.

“When you five return safely,” he continued, “I expect your master, Dragonkiss, to meet me in person. I used to see his shadow now and then—but lately he’s vanished.”

Xifeng stiffened slightly before replying evenly, “Your Highness, the master’s recent seclusion hasn’t gone smoothly. If he’d truly vanished, how would I still hear his voice?”

He exhaled lightly, then smiled faintly. “Very well. Convey my message to him.”

“Yes. The Dragonkiss Master has never disobeyed Your Highness’s will.”

“And has he chosen the five to go?”

“He’s listed seven names—Your Highness may decide.” She handed him a sealed note.

He didn’t open it at once. “Xifeng, how’s your injury?”

“Fully healed.”

“Then what exactly lies within your body? Yixinci says your constitution is… different, though she can’t explain how.”

Xifeng frowned. “Even the Vermilion Bird doesn’t know?”

He Qishu smiled inwardly. So you dodge my question with another. “Then what do you think it is?”

“Perhaps…” she murmured, “another me.”

“Another you? Is that one also a priestess of Xiaoyao Sect?”

Her brows lifted. “Of course. She serves the Prince of Zhuang.”

“Good.” He leaned back. “You are the pillar of your sect. Bring the other four back alive.”

“Does Your Highness have the final four in mind?”

Without hesitation, he said, “Jinse.” After a pause: “Tang Fei and Vermilion Bird.” Tapping his fan, he added slowly, “As for your master, Dragonkiss—”

“Forgive me, Your Highness,” Xifeng interrupted. “The master cannot leave Xiaoyao Palace.”

He frowned slightly. “Then… Xuanwu or White Tiger, either one.”

“But their strength peaks only when they fight together,” Xifeng objected.

“Among the thirty-six elders, any others suitable?”

“Bai Kun, Qin Ying, Jiang Yunkong—all of similar skill. Any would do.”

He Qishu pondered, then shook his head. “No. The weak will only drag you down. Xuanwu and White Tiger, as husband and wife—hmm…” He began pacing slowly. “If we refuse the invitation, the martial world will scorn us. If we go and lose, we’ll be ridiculed. But if this is Shuiyue Palace’s trap… We can’t afford to lose! Xinghai, you crafty old fox—you’ve played your hand well!”

He tapped his fan sharply twice on the table, then turned. “We must leave enough power in the capital. Xifeng—you’ll take three people. Remember: your opponents will be Shuiyue Palace’s strongest, including Xinghai himself. You must not lose. It’s time they saw what the true pillar of Xiaoyao Sect can do.”

Outside, Xue Qianxun saw Xifeng emerge, tension easing from her shoulders.

From inside, He Qishu spotted her and smiled gently. “Qianxun.”

Reluctantly, she stepped in.

His gaze was uncommonly soft. She smiled politely but sat far away, on an embroidered stool.

“Are you comfortable here?” he asked warmly.

“Better than at Spring River Courtyard,” she answered coolly.

“What do you do all day?” He felt oddly that she’d grown distant since moving out.

“Oh, I play the qin, write a bit. I even painted a landscape recently. Sister Vermilion Bird has lots of medical books—I borrow them often. I prescribed a remedy for the maid Xiao Li yesterday, and she’s already recovered!” She chatted brightly, avoiding mention of the lightness skill she’d been secretly practicing.

He smiled. “Later, come home with me. You can bring your instruments and brushes.”

Startled, she blurted, “I’m not going.”

“Why?” His tone was mild, but his smile faded.

“Because the women in your mansion are terrifying,” she replied quickly.

“You’re afraid of them?” His smile returned. “Then I’ll give you your own courtyard. No other women allowed.”

She lowered her head, cautious. “Why does Your Highness want to bring me back now?”

“Would it make you happy?” he asked instead.

Her surprise lingered. “Going to the Prince’s mansion… sounds nice, I suppose.”

“Xifeng and the others will leave for Shuiyue Palace soon. No one will be left to protect you—unless you want to live with Xuanwu and White Tiger, watching those two lovebirds every day.”

He joked; she didn’t laugh. “So, truly, my own courtyard?” she smiled faintly.

That night, while Xifeng, Jinse, Tang Fei, and Vermilion Bird departed the capital, Xue Qianxun moved into the Prince’s mansion.

Near midnight, He Qishu strolled past her courtyard. Her window glowed with flickering candlelight.

“Qianxun, are you asleep?” he called softly, knocking.

No answer. The candlelight wavered. Then—a faint noise inside. A sudden chill swept through him. He shoved the door open.

The room was empty.

“Qianxun! Xue Qianxun!” he shouted.

The curtains fluttered in the night breeze; the window creaked open, swinging gently. He rushed to it. The cold sky stretched endlessly—no trace of her.

“Xue Qianxun,” he murmured, a wry smile tugging at his lips, “you’ve learned quite the disappearing act.”

And suddenly, a memory rose before his eyes—years ago, on a snowy night, when a hunchbacked man had placed a coffin before him and said, ‘He Qishu, she will help you achieve your ambition—and then destroy everything you are.’

A strange realization struck him. That child had grown up.

From this day on—he would never be able to catch her again.