Seated in the elegant private room, I took a sip of tea and lazily gazed out the window. The once-border town had changed hands—it was now the southern frontier of Jing, the Pearl City under King Jing’s rule. The spring rain fell softly like mist, whispering against the gray bricks and tiles, leaving dark streaks of moisture in its wake. Along the roadside, camphor trees began to sprout tender buds—pale yellow dots here and there, brewing the charm of spring.

“Flowing clouds guide flowers into heavenly dreams; drizzling rain awakens the soul of the cuckoo.” A gentle voice drifted to my ears. Turning my head with a smile, I saw Sister Rumen (Dream), her face alight with curiosity, joy, and newfound freedom, carefully examining a simple earthenware cup. Having shed her past, she seemed to see happiness in everything around her.

Reaching out my hand, I let the soft raindrops fall onto my palm and murmured unconsciously: “Light mist and faint powder cloak the green fields; smiling, I ask how many springs this border town has seen?” This was the tenth spring. Uncle Tang, Shi Jiu Sister, years have passed since then—how are you faring?

“Qingqing!” My senior sister carried a plate of stir-fried kidney, eating as she spoke. “Now can you tell us why you stopped me and Little Crane from raiding the palace? Are we really just going to let that old witch off so easily? I won’t stand for it—I absolutely won’t!”

“Dead Bird, didn’t we go check later? The palace guards suddenly increased, and the number of night patrols around Empress Dowager Wen’s quarters was overwhelming—like ants. Did you still want to shave her bald?” Liu Xunhe pressed his palms downward, signaling her to lower her voice. “We’re still within Jing territory—you’d better behave.”

My senior sister made a face, slamming the now-empty plate onto the table and cracking her knuckles. “If it were up to me, even if Heaven itself intervened, I wouldn’t back down! Kill one who comes, kill two who come. Then chop off that witch’s head, castrate her son, and leave!”

“Sister…” Big Sister smiled indulgently at her. “There’s plenty of time ahead—why rush and risk your life needlessly?”

“Snowflake… no, Dream.” Liu Xunhe looked deeply at Big Sister. “Dream is right. In a few months, when things settle down in King Jing’s palace, we’ll stir up chaos again. I’ve heard Empress Dowager Wen possesses a luminous pearl that emits seven colors in the dark. Dream, would you like it?”

Big Sister seemed not to hear him, merely smiling as she gazed out the window. Liu Xunhe sighed, placing some dishes in her bowl and falling silent.

“Senior Sister.” I smiled, watching her gulp down tea, and slowly began: “Hair grows back once it’s cut. Treasures lost can be replaced. These things will only make Empress Dowager Wen temporarily angry.”

Senior Sister licked her lips, eyes gleaming with excitement as she looked at me. “Qingqing, do you have a brilliant idea? Tell me quickly!”

I propped my chin on my hand, tilting my head to look at her. “Actually, she has already planted a seed of calamity herself—a calamity that will pierce her heart with pain.” Smiling mischievously at the puzzled bird-brain, I paused deliberately until she frowned impatiently before continuing: “For a mother, losing her child’s trust is the most agonizing loss.” I placed two cups facing each other. “One represents her beloved power, the other her only son. Such a choice will keep Her Majesty awake at night. Even if she makes a decision, choosing one will feel like cutting out her heart or gouging out her eyes.”

Outside the window, rain streamed down the eaves like a crystal bead curtain, swaying gently in the breeze. “The greatest pain isn’t death—it’s drowning every night in nightmares of impending doom, living in a daze of loss.” I softened my gaze, subtly lifting the corners of my mouth.

“Little Sister…” Senior Sister grasped my hand urgently. “Does Qingqing still hurt? After ten years, does it still hurt that much?”

I squeezed her hand back, shaking my head slightly. “Not as much anymore. Because Qingqing has Master, Elder Brother, and Senior Sister.” Smiling, I glanced at the bickering pair. “And also Dream Sister and Brother Liu. Here”—I pointed to my heart—”it doesn’t hurt as much as it used to. But on certain days, in certain places, it’s like an old wound flaring up. My heart involuntarily aches.” And this border town—it was the prelude to darkness, the beginning of the nightmare.

“Mm.” Senior Sister abruptly changed her tone, clapping loudly. “Waiter! Waiter!”

The door to the private room opened, and a waiter with a white cloth over his shoulder responded briskly: “Coming~ What would this young lady like?”

“Another plate of stir-fried kidney, two pots of spicy fish heads!” Senior Sister waved her hand grandly. “Oh, and don’t forget three jugs of peach blossom wine!”

Big Sister lightly furrowed her delicate brows, smiling as she asked: “Younger Sister, all this food—can we finish it?”

“Of course we can!” Senior Sister shook her head smugly. “Spicy fish heads are Qingqing’s favorite. She could eat ten pots if given the chance!”

My lips twitched, and I raised both hands warningly. “What, does everyone have your bottomless stomach? If you keep blaming others, don’t blame me for using my ten-finger technique!” I rubbed my hands together, smirking coldly as I advanced toward her.

“Stupid Qingqing, always bullying me!” The little bird squirmed, retreating step by step toward the window. “You! Don’t dare! Or I’ll tickle you too!”

“Come on~ Come on~” I grinned wickedly, closing in. “This hero isn’t like someone else who giggles uncontrollably at the sight of wiggling fingers.” With that, I lunged forward, mercilessly tickling her.

“Hahaha~ Ouch!” Senior Sister laughed until she nearly fell over, her hairpin loosening. “Help! Big Sister, help me! Hahaha~”

“All right, Qingqing, let Yàn’er go.”

“No! Absolutely not!” Energized, I held onto Senior Sister, my fingers dancing wildly.

“It’s… unbearable, hahaha~ It’s unbearable!” She leaned half against the window, tears streaming from laughter. “Elder Brother! Hahaha~ Elder Brother, save me!”

With a playful smirk worthy of a rogue, I winked at her. “Go ahead, scream louder. Elder Brother might not even know which corner of the world he’s in right now!”

“Ah~ What a pity.” A warm sigh drifted in from outside. Startled, Senior Sister and I exchanged glances before turning to peer through the rain-soaked scene below. There stood a man clad in a straw raincoat and bamboo hat, hands clasped behind his back, gazing at the wooden signboard. “Turn back again? Interesting.”

He tilted his bamboo hat upward slowly, revealing calm brows and a slight smile. “Unfortunately, I happen to be in this very corner.”

“Elder Brother!” Senior Sister shouted, leaping over the windowsill and jumping straight from the second floor into his arms. “Elder Brother! Qingqing bullied me again—you must take my side!”

Elder Brother’s lips curved satisfactorily as he wrapped an arm around her waist, flying effortlessly into the private room.

“Elder Brother.” I tilted my head, looking at this gentle and refined man who had taken the place of a brother over the past decade, showering me with care.

Elder Brother released his hold on Senior Sister, carefully removing his rain gear. Smiling warmly, he appraised me: “Only three months away, and Qingqing has grown taller—almost surpassing Little Bird.”

“That’s not true! Little Bird’s growing too!” Senior Sister ran to my side, standing tall. “Elder Brother, look, look—Qingqing’s still shorter than Little Bird.”

I poked her belly playfully, and she immediately curled up like a shrimp. “Hahaha~ Stupid Qingqing, always cheating!”

Chuckling, I turned back to see Dream Sister’s hazel eyes trembling uncontrollably, fixed intently on Elder Brother, her thin lips quivering: “You…”

Elder Brother turned his head, suppressing his smile, and looked at her curiously. “May I ask who this young lady is?”

Senior Sister rubbed her stomach, grabbing Dream Sister and pushing her toward Elder Brother. “Take a good look at her—do you feel anything strange?”

Elder Brother raised an eyebrow, glancing briefly at the little bird. Then he stepped back politely, studying Big Sister for a moment. Finally, he gave her a respectful bow. “Please forgive me for being blunt, but I’ve never met this young lady.”

Big Sister gazed fervently at him, taking an involuntary step forward. “Rú Běnzhāi was my grandfather, Rú Zǐlíng was my aunt, and I am Rú Mèng.”

Elder Brother furrowed his brow, staring blankly at her, no longer his usual composed self. “Rú… Mèng…” His voice faltered. “Cousin?”

“Wu~” Tears streamed down Big Sister’s delicate face as she laughed and cried simultaneously, sorrow and joy mingling. “Cousin, cousin, cousin.”

Watching the siblings reunite brought me quiet happiness. Like fledglings separated by north and south, reunited beneath the same sky. When the flowers bloom, dreams rise amidst the drizzle of phoenix trees.

How wonderful, how wonderful. My nose tingled, and tears welled in my eyes. I turned my head, watching the spring rain gradually subside, sighing softly: Brother, I just want to know—where did you reincarnate?

Feeling a heavy pat on my shoulder, I quickly collected myself and sat down alongside Senior Sister. During the meal, Elder Brother and Dream Sister exchanged glances, asking questions and sharing sighs and sobs intermittently. I watched enviously as they transitioned from initial awkwardness to natural closeness. Carefully memorizing their expressions, I bit my chopsticks, imagining this was my reunion with my own brother—imagining him serving me a piece of fish, picturing his handsome and valiant figure as an adult. As these thoughts filled my mind, my lips curved higher and higher. Unconsciously, I began to laugh aloud.

“Qingqing?” A loud shout suddenly jolted my eardrums, shattering the imagined reunion like a mirror. Softly, I heard the sound of glass hitting the ground, shards piercing my tender heart.

“Qingqing? Qingqing?” Slowly emerging from my shattered emotions, I raised my head, staring blankly at Senior Sister’s worried face. “What is it?”

“What is it?!” She gently shook my shoulders. “Why were you grinning stupidly just now? Elder Brother called your name repeatedly, but you didn’t respond. Sigh~ What were you thinking about?”

I blinked, forcing a smile. “Nothing.”

Senior Sister frowned, scrutinizing me thoroughly. I raised an eyebrow, picked up the white porcelain cup on the table, tipped my head back, and let the sweet-spicy peach blossom wine slide into my mouth, its intensity stimulating my senses. Mocking myself inwardly, I thought: It’s been so long, yet I still can’t let go. Truly, I’m nothing but a mortal entangled in worldly attachments.

“Qingqing.” Elder Brother smiled warmly, placing a fish head in my bowl. “Qingqing seems quite curious about that small inn?”

I set down my chopsticks, looking at him earnestly. “Elder Brother, you already know that when I was five, I was abducted.”

Elder Brother and Senior Sister nodded silently, waiting quietly for me to continue.

“At the time, though I was young, I could already remember. The ones who abducted me and my mother were from the Riyao Sect. Their leader went by the alias Tang Zhong. Their base of operations was that small inn in the border town—I still recall the waiter, Xiao Haozi, addressing Tang Zhong as ‘Master San’ and another woman as ‘Shi Jiu.’ Passing through this border town now, I wanted to investigate the inn, hoping to uncover some clues.”

Elder Brother smiled gently at me, speaking slowly and deliberately: “The Riyao Sect you mentioned is a mysterious organization known for murder and theft. It’s said that as long as you can pay, there’s nothing they won’t do. Eight years ago, the Riyao Sect took on a job. While the renowned physician Ye Fengju was away visiting friends, they killed his wife, He Oubing. Afterward, the physician hid her body on Yunyao Snow Mountain and, with the help of allies in the jianghu, wiped out the entire Riyao Sect in one night. Following that, Ye Fengju retreated from the world, sealing away his needles and living in seclusion on Yunyao for eight years without ever leaving.”

Wiped out? Doubt immediately clouded my mind, and I furrowed my brows, about to speak. But Elder Brother raised a finger, signaling me to wait patiently. “No one knows when the Riyao Sect was founded, who its leader was, or how many members it had. Its sudden destruction shocked everyone, and rumors swirled afterward—whether the sect truly vanished remains a mystery.”

Senior Sister stared intently at Elder Brother, obediently pouring him another cup of wine. His eyes twinkled as he glanced at her, sipping the drink before continuing: “Until last month, Cao Feng, the esteemed master of the Zhenyuan Sect, widely respected as ‘Righteousness Filling the Universe,’ was found hanged inside the main hall of the Zhenyuan Sect. According to his eldest disciple, Li Renqu—who later inherited the position of sect leader—Cao Feng’s body bore a sun-shaped mark, which happens to be the unique insignia of the Riyao Sect. Seven days later, Zhao Ran, the head of the Jigu Sect, was brutally murdered in his home, also bearing the same mark. News of the Riyao Sect’s reappearance caused an uproar in the jianghu. Martial Alliance Leader Tang Kuangsong has announced a grand gathering at Meng Lake on the fifth day of the fifth lunar month to address this matter.”

Elder Brother set down his wine cup and looked at us. “Master received the news and grew deeply concerned. He sent word saying that with Yàn’er’s restless nature, he fears she’ll not only fail to take care of Little Sister but will likely stir up trouble instead.” He smirked faintly at Senior Sister, who pouted and tugged irritably at her sleeve. Smiling slightly, Elder Brother continued: “Fortunately, I received a letter from Xunhe just the other day, saying you’d arrive in the border town soon. I hurried here overnight to meet up with you. This time, I’ve also invited a friend who’s coming from Yi Country. He might arrive a bit later. For now, we’ll stay here and wait for him.”

I nodded silently in agreement, then picked up my chopsticks, lost in thought. Given the Riyao Sect’s elusive tactics, why would they leave such obvious marks? Isn’t this an outright provocation? If not them, then who is using their name, and what is their true purpose?

The fog thickened, obscuring the path ahead. Regardless of what lies before me, I must press on. The blood debt owed to the Han family must be repaid—whether in life or death, whether hidden or revealed.

________________________________________

After the rain cleared, dark clouds edged with white framed the sky. Crystal droplets slid slowly off freshly washed branches. The slanted rays of the setting sun peeked shyly through the clouds, flickering between light and shadow. The fresh air cleansed the dust, revealing deeper hues in the tiles and stones below.

Standing on the upper floor at the back of the inn, I gazed silently at a tree laden with fragrant blossoms. Pure white like untouched snow, the flowers exuded an ethereal elegance—untainted, noble, and transcendent. Rain-kissed petals swayed gently in the spring breeze, releasing waves of cool fragrance intermittently.

Alone, I admired the blooms until their silhouettes began to fade, only then realizing: Night had softly descended, caressing my long hair and brushing against the hem of my robe.

Strolling along the corridor, the vast Lei River lay not far ahead. Ten years apart, yet the river still hummed ancient ballads in a language forgotten by the world. A sudden longing welled within me—an inexplicable yearning to see that mother river once more. Unable—and unwilling—to resist, I decided to indulge myself, letting my heart guide me. With a smile, I leapt gracefully over the cool blossoms, my fingertips brushing against their lingering scent.

After a few breaths, I landed lightly in the riverside pavilion. Leaning against a pillar, I gazed pensively at the dark waters of the Lei River.

Why is it called the Lei River? Did poets pour libations to the moon after drinking, their fragrant wine flowing into a mighty river? Or have countless tears of parting over centuries coalesced into this emerald stream?

Letting my thoughts wander freely, I tilted my head upward. Moonlight pierced through the night mist, scattering stars across the rippling surface of the pool. The pavilion overflowed with fragrance; shadows of flowers danced beneath the canopy, while the gentle breeze wove a living tapestry.

In the tranquil night, a celestial garment enveloped me, carrying me high into the clouds, filling me with serene peace.

Leaning softly against the railing, I began humming a melody. At first, it was just a quiet self-entertainment, accompanied by the rhythmic lapping of water against the shore. A smile played on my lips as I stood, letting the wind carry my voice louder, echoing across the open river.

Repeating the song again and again, I closed my eyes, calmed my heart, and spread my arms wide. Facing the night breeze, I sang aloud. Suddenly, a clear and haunting flute melody drifted toward me. My eyes snapped open, and I saw a faint lantern flickering on the dark waters. A figure stood indistinctly at the bow of a boat, playing the very tune I had been humming moments ago. On such an elegant night, encountering someone so serendipitously harmonious, why not let our music intertwine and accompany me into dreams?

Taking a deep breath, I used qi projection to hum the wordless melody. The flute grew clearer—it seemed he (or she) was also skilled in martial arts, employing sound transmission techniques to extend the melody.

The small boat drifted farther away, the lantern disappearing into the night. Yet the flute’s notes lingered in my ears—a testament to remarkable internal cultivation. Smoothing my windswept hair, I turned and left without hesitation. Beginnings and endings follow the wind; fleeting encounters pass without pause.

A faint connection suffices.

Under the luminous moonlight, amidst silent flower shadows and cool spring breezes, the night faded softly. I soared gracefully back into the inn, landing on the second-floor corridor.

“Mm...” Savoring the earlier riverside scene, I instinctively hummed the tune again. Suddenly, a low voice called behind me: “Qingqing.”

Turning with a smile, I saw Elder Brother approaching under the dim yellow corridor lights. Behind him stood a man clad in indigo robes. When Elder Brother stepped aside, allowing the figure to emerge from the shadows, I finally beheld his features. Perfectly sculpted features, a tall and sturdy frame imbued with graceful strength—every movement deliberate and poised. His brow was noble, his eyes sharp as stars, his presence like pine trees bathed in moonlight, clear and radiant as dewdrops. Cold yet dignified, aloof yet refined, he stood solemnly, resembling a celestial being.

A fleeting spark of something indescribable flashed in his piercing phoenix eyes. Standing there, he gave me a slight nod. I politely curtsied, noticing a bamboo flute hanging from his waist. With a hint of curiosity, I gazed at him quietly.

Elder Brother gestured and introduced: “This is my junior sister, Feng Yunqing.” Then, turning to me with a smile, he added: “And this is the friend I mentioned—the one arriving from Yunyao Snow Mountain in Yi Country. His name is Ye Jinglan.”

The cool spring breeze carried a faint trace of fragrance.

Beneath the chilly moonlight, crows cried in the distance—Ye Jinglan, the night drawing to a close.