YCY - 15

Chapter 15: The Parting Song Should Not Be Sung Anew

Feeling the warmth enveloping me from all sides, I unconsciously curled up my body, relishing the soft touch. I wished I could just keep sleeping like this; I was truly exhausted. Turning over, the faint whisper of Nong Mo before his departure suddenly echoed in my mind again: “You must… survive…” My heart trembled, and I abruptly opened my eyes.

I found myself staring directly into a pair of sparkling, lively eyes, causing me to gasp involuntarily. Delight flickered within those eyes, followed by an excited shout: “Grandpa! She’s awake! Junior Sister is awake!”

Junior Sister? What a strange way to address someone, especially after recalling my kidnapping. My heart tightened instinctively. I moved my hands and feet cautiously under the blanket, then cleared my throat. Thankfully, no one had struck any pressure points on me. Sighing with relief, I braced myself with trembling arms and sat up shakily, my head spinning dizzily.

“Grandpa, hurry up, hurry!” came a sweet, childish voice. Clutching the blanket tightly, I eyed the doorway warily. The slightly ajar door was kicked open, and a little girl dressed in a red embroidered tunic skirt and brown leather shoes hopped in joyfully. As she moved, a crisp jingling sound filled the room. Upon closer inspection, I realized that small purple-gold bells were attached to each of her twin buns.

“Junior Sister, how are you feeling? Are you better now?” she asked, batting her large, watery eyes before pouncing onto the bed.

“Yan’er, don’t frighten her,” a voice intervened. Lifting my gaze, I saw an energetic old man stroking his dark gray beard, smiling kindly at me. “Young lady, do not be afraid. We mean no harm.” Slowly walking to the bedside, he gently patted the girl’s head and explained, “Two days ago, while my granddaughter Yan’er was playing in the birch forest by the riverbank, she happened upon you—soaked to the bone and collapsed on the ground. She called for her brother, who carried you back here.”

Two days ago? Raising my hands, I stared at the scars covering my palms and fingertips. The tragedy atop Lei Yue Ridge wasn’t a dream—it was real. My vision blurred as tears welled up. Mo Nong and the others had been gone for two days now… Truly, I was all alone…

Covering my face with my hands, biting my lower lip, I stifled my sobs, letting the tears flow silently.

“All my fault! I made Junior Sister cry!” the girl exclaimed guiltily. Just as I sobbed uncontrollably, chest heaving with pain, a pair of warm, tiny hands pulled mine away. I continued to hiccup through my tears. “Who hurt you? Let your Senior Sister avenge you!” Her lively eyes sparkled fiercely as she straightened her back and puffed out her chest. “Don’t worry! Leave it to me—I’ll protect you!”

Staring blankly at her, I sniffled and hesitantly spoke: “Se-Senior Sister?”

“Ahh! Wonderful! Wonderful!” she squealed, jumping off the bed and twirling around proudly. “Junior Sister finally called me Senior Sister!” Grabbing the hem of the elder’s robe, she exclaimed, “Grandpa! Did you hear that? She called me Senior Sister! From today onward, Little Bird is officially her big sister!”

“Yan’er, stop fooling around!” the elder scolded sternly. The girl rolled her eyes, pouted, and let out an indignant humph.

“Where do you live, young lady? Tell us so we can send you home,” the elder asked. His lean figure, coupled with his piercing yet gentle eyes, gave him an otherworldly air. “You’ve been away from home for two days. Your parents must be worried sick and searching for you everywhere.”

His sincere demeanor eased my guard, and a wave of bitterness rose in my throat. “My parents… they’ve already passed away…”

The little girl slowly approached the bed, took my hand, and whispered softly, “So have mine.”

Looking up through tear-filled eyes, frowning slightly, I gazed at her in stunned silence: So we share the same sorrow.

“And…?” came the deep, resonant voice. “Do you have any family left?”

Slowly withdrawing my hand from her warm grasp, I clutched the blanket tightly, my throat dry. Trembling, I forced out the words: “They… they were all killed by bandits…”

Suddenly, a sea of crimson flooded my vision. The horrific scenes from the riverside forest replayed in my mind—the bloodied lips of Uncle Quan, Zhu Yun’s mournful brown eyes, the sword at Mo Nong’s waist. “You must… survive…” His final words echoed repeatedly in my head. “You must… survive…”

“Ahhh!” I screamed, shaking my head violently, trying to dispel the bloody visions.

“Thud!” A dull sound rang out as the dark image of Lei Yue Ridge gradually faded. I stared blankly at the stone floor. The string of sandalwood prayer beads had slipped off my wrist. The relentless calamities had left me unable to eat or sleep properly. The chubby hands once teased by my brother had become thin and frail. Master Liao Wu’s gift had simply slid off without resistance.

The little girl quickly picked up the prayer beads, examining them closely. Suddenly, her eyes widened in astonishment. “Isn’t this the boring monk’s thing?”

Boring monk? I frowned slightly, watching her silently. Could she know Master Liao Wu?

The elder raised an eyebrow, shook his head, and chuckled. “Yan’er, these kinds of prayer beads are quite common.”

“No, they’re not ordinary at all!” the girl protested loudly. “Look, Grandpa! There’s even a painting of a little bird next to the tassel on one of the beads! Last time on Bao Lian Peak, no matter how much I begged, that shriveled monk wouldn’t give me this string of prayer beads. So I carved a little bird on it when he wasn’t looking as revenge!” Standing on tiptoes, she handed the beads to the elder, urging excitedly, “Grandpa, look! Look!”

He accepted them solemnly, gently running his fingers over the ink-black beads, then turned to me with sharp eyes. “Young lady, who gave you these prayer beads?”

My heart raced as I stammered, “A master from Tan Ji Temple gifted them to me.”

The elder took a step forward, his tone light and cheerful. “Was that master named Liao Wu?”

“Yes,” I replied, surprised.

“How about that? Didn’t I say so, Little Bird!” The girl swayed smugly, grinning at me. “Junior Sister, do you happen to know where that boring monk is now? He promised to accompany my grandfather to admire the scenery but disappeared somewhere. Such a liar, pretending to be holy!”

“Yan’er! Show some respect!” the elder reprimanded sharply. “Didn’t the young disciple from Tan Ji Temple mention that Liao Wu was stripped of his position as abbot of the national temple by King You and banished from the mountain? It’s not about lying—don’t make reckless accusations!”

“Hmph!” The girl wrinkled her nose disdainfully. “If he didn’t commit some wrongdoing, why would he have been removed from his post?”

“No…” I wiped my tears and murmured softly, “Master did nothing wrong.”

“Hmm?” She tilted her head, curious. “Junior Sister knows?”

Frowning, I sighed lightly. “Master was implicated.” He got caught up in our Han family’s misfortune. That treacherous concubine couldn’t tolerate even a speck of dust in her sight.

“Implicated?” The girl rushed over, her bells tinkling. “Implicated by whom?”

“By…” I faltered, turning my face away, unwilling to elaborate further.

“Yan’er, enough,” the elder interjected firmly.

“But!” She stomped her foot, her voice muffled. “Fine, fine, I won’t ask anymore.”

A soft creak sounded as the door opened slightly. I looked up to see a blue-clad youth holding a celadon bowl, standing by the doorway with a warm smile. His features were serene, his expression gentle. “Master, the medicine is ready.”

The elder nodded slightly. “Mm, bring it over.”

With gentle movements, the youth was by my bedside in an instant. “Little sister, do you have the strength to drink the medicine yourself?”

“Mm, I think so,” I responded gratefully, nodding at him. “Thank you.”

The kind-hearted youth smiled faintly. “Hehe, no need to thank me.”

My hands trembled slightly as I reached for the bowl. Perhaps it was from sleeping for two days or the exhaustion of surviving in the river. My wrist weakened, and the celadon bowl nearly fell. But in the next moment, a firm hand deftly caught the bowl mid-air. I stared blankly upward, meeting his warm, steady gaze. What graceful movements, what agility—he knew martial arts.

The youth smiled gently. “Little sister has had a fever for two days and hasn’t eaten or drunk anything. Naturally, she’s weak.” Handing the bowl to the girl, he said, “Let’s trouble Junior Sister to help.”

The red-clad girl snatched the bowl eagerly, plopped down on the edge of the bed, and scooped up a spoonful of the dark liquid. Blowing on it clumsily, she blinked excitedly. “Junior Sister, be good and open wide~” Mimicking the action herself, her innocence and charm were utterly endearing.

Following her lead, I unconsciously opened my mouth. The bitter medicine slid down my throat, leaving me momentarily stunned. Why did I trust them so easily? Why did I swallow the medicine without hesitation? Was it because of the sincerity and warmth in their eyes?

Yes, perhaps. After enduring so many schemes and betrayals, after witnessing so much bloodshed and cruelty, and after such a long time without feeling safe or at peace, I craved this simplicity. Motionlessly, I gazed at the girl’s pure, clear eyes—how envious I was of her purity. Tears slipped silently down my cheeks, distorting my vision like a prism, blurring everything around me.

“Ah? Junior Sister! Junior Sister!” A small hand gently caressed my cheek, and a light, ethereal voice whispered near my ear. “Was it too bitter?” Those words reminded me of Mother, and a torrent of tears burst forth. I wailed aloud, releasing all the grief pent up inside.

“Senior Brother! Senior Brother! Hurry and buy malt candy for Junior Sister! Quick! Quick!”

“Yan’er~” A deep voice interrupted. Feeling a shadow fall over me, I wiped my eyes and slowly looked up. The elder stood at the head of the bed, his eyes somber. After a long pause, he sighed. “Child, let the past remain in the past.”

The past? How could I let it go? Repeated partings, tragic scenes—they were etched deeply into my heart, constantly reminding me: This life isn’t just mine. It carries the blood and tears of countless others. Before avenging my family, Han Yue Xia, you have no right to forget, no right to die!

This hatred surged within me like waves in the vast ocean, churning in my chest. A thick, bitter rage roared from the depths of my soul, lingering sweetly metallic in my throat. Taking a deep breath, I forced the anger down. Unclenching my fists, I pushed aside the covers, sat shakily on the edge of the bed, and lowered my trembling feet to the ground. My knees buckled, and I collapsed to the floor.

“Junior Sister!” The girl hastily set down the bowl and spoon, attempting to lift me. I waved her off, looking at her with gratitude. “Thank you for saving me.”

She froze for a moment, then broke into a bright laugh. “Oh, if you really want to thank me, be my little sister! Little Bird has always wanted a younger sister, always!”

My lips softened slightly, and I looked up at the elder and the youth. Bowing deeply, I pressed my palms against the cool stone floor. “Thank you both for your kindness.” Truly, thank you for saving my life—a life burdened with the spirits of the wronged.

“The floor is cold, little sister. Get up quickly, or your fever might return.” Gently pulling me up, I gazed at the warm youth and the lively girl, leaning against the bedpost as I slowly stood.

“Child, would you consider coming with us?” The elder’s rich voice resonated. My eyes widened in surprise. Stroking his beard, he looked at me kindly. “Since you have nowhere else to go, why not leave with us three?” Holding the prayer beads, he continued, “Perhaps this encounter was fate planted by Liao Wu. Child, will you embrace this karmic connection?”

Though I still hesitated, wondering if they were trustworthy, this might be my last chance at survival. Yes, no matter what, I must live first. With that thought, I exhaled softly and looked at him resolutely. “I’m willing.”

He nodded slightly, his eyes piercing. “My surname is Feng, given name Huai Jin.” Pointing to the blue-clad youth, he introduced, “This is my disciple, Feng Wu Yu.”

The youth smiled warmly at me, and I nodded in response. Silently, I pondered: Wu Tong , meaning ‘rain-soaked parasol tree,’ evokes images of melancholy twilight. Wu Yu—’silent rain’—what unspoken burdens does this name carry? Adding the surname Feng, it becomes ‘wind without rain.’ Perhaps this is the master’s quiet blessing for his disciple.

“This is my granddaughter,” Feng Huai Jin gestured toward the red-clad girl. “Feng Lian Yan.”

The name conjured imagery of shimmering waters reflecting sunlight, misty mountains veiled in rain. Lian Yan—what a beautiful name. Smiling amiably, I watched as she cocked her head, delighted. “Wonderful! Wonderful! I have a Junior Sister!” Grabbing my hand, she tilted her head and winked. “Junior Sister, don’t listen to Grandpa. Don’t call me Lian Yan—it sounds awful.” Casting a dissatisfied glance at Feng Huai Jin, she continued enthusiastically, “Junior Sister, call me Big Sister Little Bird, okay?”

Relaxing my brows, I spoke softly. “Big Sister Little Bird.”

“Mm mm!” She nodded happily, pulling me into a tight hug. “Wonderful, Junior Sister! I finally have a Junior Sister!”

I exhaled softly, allowing her to bounce and jump around. Her embrace was warm, bringing me a fleeting sense of comfort.

“Alright, Junior Sister,” Feng Wu Yu gently pulled Little Bird away. “Our Junior Sister is still recovering—she’ll get dizzy if you keep shaking her.”

“Oh!” Little Bird scratched her head, smiling bashfully. “I was just so happy!”

Shakily taking two steps forward, I bowed deeply and addressed them clearly. “I am Han Yue Xia, nicknamed Qing Qing. I pay my respects to Master, Senior Brother, and Senior Sister.”

“Qing Qing, Qing Qing,” Little Bird chirped, circling me excitedly. “Junior Sister Qing Qing, Junior Sister Qing Qing.”

Feng Huai Jin walked to the wooden chair, lifted his robe slightly, and sat down gently. “Child, leave the past behind. Like your Senior Brother, allow me to give you a new name, alright?”

Clenching my fists, I felt a flicker of reluctance. But thinking again, the name Han Yue Xia was far too dangerous now. Changing it might be wise. First, survive; later, settle scores. Tightening my lips, I lowered my head and murmured softly, “Please, Master, bestow a new name upon me.”

“Yun Qing.” His deep voice carried a hint of cheerfulness. Looking up, I met his gentle gaze as he held a clay cup, smiling warmly. “From now on, you shall be known as Feng Yun Qing.”

“Feng… Yun Qing…” I repeated the name blankly. In that instant, realization dawned, and my eyes trembled. Dropping to my knees, I choked out, “Yun Qing thanks you, Master.”

Feng Yun Qing—Wind and Clouds Clear. Is this your blessing, Master? Thank you… thank you. It seems I was overthinking things. Gently touching the soft winter robe on my body, I glanced at my Senior Sister sitting beside me. Her mouth wide open, she was almost sprawled across the dining table, her eyes fixed on a plate of stir-fried kidney across from Senior Brother. With a light laugh, he kindly moved the dish in front of her. “Here, Junior Sister, it’s all yours.”

“Wu Yu,” Master lightly chided, his face stern as he glared at Senior Sister. “Yan’er, you’re being so ill-mannered!”

Senior Sister pouted, reluctantly sitting back down, her lips pursed and her hands gripping her clothes. “I just love eating kidneys! Why did they place them so far away? It’s clearly bullying Little Bird!”

A faint smile tugged at the corner of my lips as I patted her hand under the table. She turned to me, looking aggrieved. “Junior Sister~”

I held her hand tightly, greedily soaking in her warmth, my gaze lingering on her lively and adorable face. These past few days, Senior Sister and I had shared the same bed. Her vivacity and innocence slowly opened up my wounded heart, allowing me to shed my doubts and gradually blend into this warm family. Senior Sister truly was my benefactor—her vitality like the warm winter sun, little by little melting the ice encasing my heart.

“Sigh, have you heard?” A voice sighed from the neighboring table. “Something big has happened in Fan Capital!”

Fan Capital? I instinctively turned my head, listening closely.

“What? What is it?”

“General Han Bai Qing stayed behind!” The man slapped his thigh, lamenting, “Seven days ago, General Han’s only son was executed.”

“What? Executed? Why?”

“The young master killed Chancellor Qian’s son on the night of Winter Solstice—the infamous ‘Eastern Mountain Wolf’ from the children’s song, the one who abducted young women.”

“My cousin, who does small business in Fan Capital, said that this son of Qian relied on his father’s power, strutting around the streets, committing all sorts of evil deeds!” The inn erupted like a boiling pot, voices overlapping. I strained my ears, sorting through the cacophony, eager to hear news about my brother.

“The young general truly lives up to his father’s name, the General Zhen Guo—he did well! He rid the people of a scourge!”

“Well done, but how tragic…” The man who initiated the discussion slammed the table, his face filled with anger. “That Chancellor Qian incited the king to sentence the young general to death the very next day. Three days later, at the execution ground in the Crime Street, the chancellor himself oversaw the execution.”

Oversaw the execution… My grip loosened, and the chopsticks clattered to the floor. The string inside me was harshly plucked, emitting a sorrowful tremor.

“I heard that on the same day, Miss Han, who was exiled to the barren lands, encountered bandits along the way—all the soldiers and prisoners were slaughtered!”

“So tragic! Doesn’t this mean the entire Han family has been wiped out?”

“Oh no, it gets worse. After the young general’s death, the Chancellor didn’t even spare his corpse! He poured several buckets of dirty oil over the body and burned it to ashes!”

“This is too cruel—isn’t this grinding bones and scattering ashes?” “….” “….”

My ears buzzed, unable to hear anything else. The string in my heart snapped abruptly, rebounding against my chest and shattering my insides. Sight gone, touch lost, all senses disappeared. The last sliver of hope vanished, and my heart felt pierced repeatedly by icy spikes, then torn apart flesh and blood inch by inch. The bloody mass in my chest fused thickly together, turning into a bittersweet surge rushing from my throat.

“Uh~” The glaring redness on the ground jolted my vision, dragging me out of the darkness and forcing me to confront this bloody reality. Why, after I narrowly escaped death and began to harbor hope, did I hear the devastating news of my brother’s cruel end? It was like seeing the shore before drowning—twice as tragic.

“Junior Sister!” “Little Junior Sister!” Two urgent cries rang out. I turned my head blankly, my body like dry wood, my heart like dead ashes. Feeling a sticky stream trickle down my lips, my chest tightened, my lifeblood seemingly drained. Darkness clouded my vision, and I collapsed.

In a daze, I found myself before a cascading water curtain. On the rushing water, vivid scenes flashed:

In the Pavilion of Flowing Winds, everyone laughed until they were bent over. Mother giggled softly: “Qing Qing, who taught you this?”

“Qing Qing, listen to your mother. After your birthday, your father will return victorious.” Father and Brother, dressed in military uniforms, stood elegantly on horseback, waving at me through the mist.

Mother, her long hair loose, gripped the city bricks tightly, screaming mournfully: “Bai Qing, shoot me! Shoot me!”

Mother smiled gently, placed her hand on her chest, and fell gracefully from the tower like a blooming flower.

Father gazed tenderly at Mother in his arms and solemnly said: “I will bring your mother back—to You Kingdom.”

Hua Mei leaned weakly against the stone lion, reaching out to me, reluctant to say: “Miss, take… care…”

In the dense forest, Uncle Quan, blood staining his mouth, struggled to force a smile: “Miss… hurry…” Zhu Yun looked at me with trembling brown eyes, full of reluctance. Nong Mo turned his head, his gaze distant and sorrowful: “You must… survive…”

The water curtain widened suddenly, revealing another scene. Dark clouds hung low, yellow sand swirling, and my brother, hands bound behind him, knelt on the pale execution ground. From the platform, the treacherous chancellor tossed down a bamboo stick. The burly executioner took a swig of strong liquor and sprayed it onto the gleaming blade. Quickly removing the white board from my brother’s neck, the executioner raised his arm high.

No! Don’t! I lunged toward the water curtain, trying to stop the executioner’s actions. But I grasped nothing, only feeling the cold droplets of water. The executioner swung his blade, and a splash of crimson flew onto the white silk banner.

The treacherous chancellor sneered, signaling the soldiers to bring over buckets of dirty oil, which they splashed onto my brother’s corpse. I instinctively tried to look away, wanting to close my eyes. But no matter how I struggled, the scene unfolded before me. In the bleak winter, a fierce fire roared to life, its flames writhing like demons in a moonless night, twisting and devouring my brother’s body bit by bit.

Millions of threads tangled in my heart, my sorrow folding back endlessly. Trying to paint sorrow, the past mourns, the present laments, yet the pain cannot be dispelled. My tears flowed like the Lei River—wiping away thousands of lines, yet never ceasing.

Reaching out to grasp them, my fingers barely submerged in the water, only to see my loved ones smiling and fading away. Before me remained only the mirror-like water curtain, swaying in the wind, enveloping me in its mist. I stood there, desolate.

Suddenly, a few three-dimensional images emerged from the mist. Straight ahead was a sky ablaze with fiery red—the predicament my brother and I faced in the Moon-Shooting Valley. Suddenly, dark clouds gathered, and torrential rain poured down. Watching the fire and smoke dissipate, I raised my arms and shouted: “Heaven does not abandon those who strive—let us move forward with determination!”

Turning around, I saw the rushing Le River, my brother drawing his bow to shoot the flag, casting aside his whip and breaking his spear. Pointing at the demon across the river, I made a solemn vow: “One day, I will cross this river, look northwest, and shoot down the heavenly wolf!”

Drops of water playfully struck my face, then vanished. The world became clear again. I gazed at the round droplets on my hand, my eyes trembling: Joy is as fragile as dew, slipping through one’s fingers before it can be savored. Sorrow, however, is like air, ever-present, mingling with every breath. As long as I live, it clings to me.

Shaking off the droplets from my fingertips, wiping away the mist from my face: Tears cannot relieve pain. Rather than soaking my life in useless rivers of tears, I would grit my teeth and climb ashore, like I did at Lei Yue Ridge. Pain, someday I will conquer you. Someday, I will make you groan beneath my feet.

Treading frost and snow, parting the heavy fog, no longer lost in sorrow, I abruptly opened my eyes.

“Grandpa! Grandpa! Junior Sister is awake!” Senior Sister’s joyful voice echoed in my ear as she gently nudged my body. “Junior Sister, Junior Sister, you scared me to death… wu~”

I turned my head, reached out, and gently wiped away her tears, softly saying: “Senior Sister, I’m sorry.” Sorry for forgetting that I wasn’t alone—I still had Master, Senior Brother, and you.

“Little Junior Sister, this medicine was prescribed by the best doctor in Yang City.” Senior Brother’s brow relaxed as he sat by the bedside, helping me sit up. “Come, take a sip.”

His warm eyes reminded me of my brother. I gazed at him silently, then drank the black liquid straight from the bowl. “Junior Sister.” He looked deeply into my eyes, hesitated for a moment, and said softly: “The dead cannot return. Don’t torment yourself anymore.”

My expression softened, and I gave a faint smile, expressing gratitude: “Mm, I won’t.”

Raising my eyes, I saw Master nodding quietly, his smile faint as he watched me. I slipped my hand into my clothes, touching the white jade pendant my father had given me. Determination set in, I suddenly knelt on the bed, pressing my forehead to the mattress, and shouted with all my strength: “Master, I want to learn martial arts! Please teach me!” Senior Sister had once told me that though Master lived like a wild crane, seemingly detached from the world, he possessed incredible skills and was a profound figure in the jianghu.

The room fell silent. I clenched my fists, unwilling to back down. After a long pause, a deep voice spoke: “Why does Yun Qing want to learn martial arts?”

I raised my head, looking firmly at him, my voice clear: “Though Qing Qing is young, I’ve already witnessed too much tragedy and bloodshed. Every time disaster struck, it was my loved ones who shielded me, sacrificing their lives for mine so that I could survive. That sense of helplessness gnaws at my bones day and night, keeping me awake at night and restless during the day.” Letting my hair fall loose, I crawled forward a couple of steps, gazing fervently at him: “I don’t want to remain powerless forever. Only by becoming stronger can I protect what I cherish and make the evildoers pay for their crimes. Master, Qing Qing begs you—please teach me martial arts.” Saying this, I knocked my head repeatedly against the ground.

“Little Junior Sister…” Senior Brother helped me up, his eyes trembling with emotion as he looked at me. Senior Sister’s eyes glistened with tears, pity evident in her gaze.

I looked expectantly at Master, unwilling to blink. He stroked his beard, his brows slightly furrowed, and spoke gravely: “Yun Qing, I can teach you everything I know—but you must promise me one condition.”

Delighted, I quickly replied: “Whatever the condition, Qing Qing will agree.”

Master relaxed his brows and spoke slowly: “Tomorrow, we will set off for Wang Mountain, located at the intersection of Jing, Liang, and Yi nations. Our home lies in the Li Xin Valley within the mountain.” Jing, Liang, and Yi—the northern lands. I listened intently to Master’s words, nodding continuously.

He narrowed his eyes, his voice deep and somber: “I want you to promise that you will not leave the valley for ten years.”

Ten years? I stared blankly at Master, who gazed back solemnly, his face grave. Taking a deep breath, I answered loudly: “Alright!” Raising my right hand, I declared firmly: “For the next ten years, Qing Qing will not step outside the Li Xin Valley!”

Satisfied, Master nodded and turned to leave.

I gazed into the distance, staring at the heavy night curtain outside the window, silently vowing: Ten years it is. When I complete my training and leave the valley, I will avenge my family!

The cold wind rustled. Feng Wu Yu pushed open the door and followed after Master: “Master!”

Not far away, an elder slowly turned around: “What is it?”

The gentle youth bowed respectfully: “Disciple has a question I hope Master can clarify.”

“Hmm…” The elder sighed deeply. “You want to ask why I set such a condition, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

Feng Huai Jin looked calmly at his disciple: “Wu Yu, what do you think of Yun Qing’s character?”

“Her body is light and flexible—excellent material for martial arts training.”

“Mm.” The elder nodded, facing the roaring northern wind, his voice deep and steady. “Yun Qing truly deserves to be called the daughter of General Han. She possesses remarkable talent and an extraordinary disposition. Despite enduring so many tragedies, she still harbors a strong will to survive—a rare quality indeed.” His expression suddenly grew serious as he raised his eyes to the sky: “Wu Yu, Yun Qing is different from you. Though both of you experienced the destruction of your families, you were still an infant then, and it was easier for you to let go. But Yun Qing—after gaining awareness, calamities struck her family repeatedly, leaving her all alone. The resentment buried within her is her weakness.”

“You saw it too—how she vomited blood in rage, her eyes burning with fury when she woke, consumed by obsession. If we teach her martial arts and let her wander freely, it would only harm her. Yun Qing is a child recognized by Liao Wu. It is my responsibility to guide her properly. By spending ten years in the Li Xin Valley, I hope she can resolve the corrosive resentment in her heart and truly achieve clarity of mind and spirit.” With that, Feng Huai Jin turned and left.

Feng Wu Yu stood silently in the corridor. He looked up to see a crescent moon hanging quietly in the clear night sky after the rain—imperfect yet crystalline, a delicate curve like eyebrow ink, capturing a few scattered stars.

The faint stars, half-bright and half-dim, hung quietly in the azure sky, watching over the land of You Kingdom beneath the night. The winter night was desolate, and faint music drifted from afar, its melody melancholic, like a farewell.

Thousands of mountains adorned with purple and emerald clouds hang suspended; throughout eternity, the Lei River swallows ships whole. Do not compose new verses for the parting song; beneath the crescent moon and scattered stars, the night grows clear.

Night would soon fade, and a new day would dawn.