For the first two days after Lin Zhixue left, Gu Yanqing felt no different.
He rose at the mao hour to meditate as usual, headed to the training grounds in the morning to practice his swordplay, and refined the medicinal potency of the Red Gold Sand in the afternoon, his days passing just as regularly as before.
It was not until dusk on the fourth day, when he ceased his cultivation, that he habitually glanced over at the courtyard next door.
The courtyard gate was firmly shut. A thin layer of snow had settled upon the stone table, untouched and unswept.
That voice which used to knock punctually every morning to ask him, “What are we doing today?” had not sounded for days.
He stood beneath the veranda for a moment, draped the sweat-wiping cloth over his shoulder, and turned back inside.
His cultivation of 《Black Iron Body》 had stalled at the fourth layer.
The medicinal potency of the Red Gold Sand was growing increasingly faint. Where a single portion of ore powder once took three to four shichen to repeatedly grind through his meridians, it was now completely depleted in less than two shichen, with only a negligible fraction seeping into his bones and sinews.
Only after consulting the manual did he learn that his physical body had adapted to the tempering intensity of the Red Gold Sand. Much like developing resistance from consuming the same pill over a prolonged period, continuing to use Red Gold Sand would simply be a waste of materials.
Flipping further to the appendix at the back of the manual, he found a name under the section for “High-Grade Substitute Materials.”
Scarlet Flame Crystal Marrow.
Found in the Scarlet Flame Mountain Range along the border between the Southern and Central Domains, it was a body-tempering material deeply prized by body cultivators.
The older the age and the purer the color of the crystal marrow, the greater its effect in tempering bones and sinews.
The manual even noted that Scarlet Flame Crystal Marrow could not only replace Red Gold Sand to complete subsequent tempering, but also enhance the ultimate strength of 《Black Iron Body》.
Closing the book, he headed to the Hall of Deacons first thing the next morning to submit an application to leave the sect.
...
The flying sword traveled through the wind and snow for three days as mountains, rivers, and cities below slowly receded between gaps in the clouds.
The further north she flew, the heavier the snow fell. The biting wind blowing against her face was laced with fine ice granules, stinging slightly against her skin.
Lin Zhixue pulled her outer robe tighter.
Xiaoyu drifted out from the jade pendant, its head barely emerging before the freezing wind blew clean through it.
Naturally, it could feel no cold, but it still shivered exaggeratedly in the wind, its entire spirit body flickering twice like a candle flame buffeted by a gust.
“This wind is way too strong! Zhixue, how much further is it?”
“Soon.”
Lin Zhixue glanced down at the map in her hands, lightly tapping the spot marked “Cold Water Valley” with her fingertip.
“At this speed, it shouldn’t take much longer.”
Just as she spoke, a clamor of human voices suddenly rose from the wind and snow ahead, mingled with several hoarse beast roars.
Pressing a hand to her sword hilt, she lowered the flying sword. Passing through curtains of falling snow, she saw a merchant caravan trapped beneath a snowy slope ahead.
Three carriages were stuck in the snow, their wheels wedged firmly in the frozen earth.
Several workers were frantically shoveling snow with iron spades while others wedged wooden planks beneath the wheels, dripping with sweat from the exertion.
Beside the carriages stood several low-rank cultivators. The strongest among them, an early Foundation Establishment old man whose left arm was wrapped in bloodstained bandages, was directing the workers to unload goods from the carriages.
Crouched beside him was a girl of seven or eight holding a shivering puppy, girl and hound huddled against the carriage, her cheeks flushed bright red from the cold.
When the old man saw Lin Zhixue emerge from the snowstorm, he froze for an instant before waving urgently, his voice shredded by the howling wind.
“Young lady, don’t come this way! There are snow beasts ahead! We were just attacked and barely managed to fall back—hurry, take a detour!”
Before his voice had even faded, the snowy slope to the side violently erupted.
A massive, snow-white beast lunged from the accumulated snow. Its limbs were thick and sturdy, its sharp claws carving deep trenches into the snow as a low growl rumbled in its throat.
The beast pounced straight toward the nearest carriage. With a whimper, the dog in the girl’s arms bolted out, planting itself before the girl and barking furiously at the monstrosity.
“Abai, come back!” the young girl cried out in panic.
Then, sword light flared.
The Guilan Sword traced a slender aqua-blue sword ray through the wind and snow.
A bone-deep slash bloomed across the snow beast’s foreleg joints. Its massive body lost balance, crashing heavily onto the snow and kicking up a billowing flurry of flakes.
Sword light flashed once more, striking precisely across its throat.
From drawing the blade to sheathing it took merely three breaths.
The little dog still stood where it was in a charging stance, tail stiffly erect, seemingly yet to comprehend what had just transpired.
Peeking out from behind the carriage and seeing that the monster no longer moved, the girl boldly dashed forward to scoop up her dog.
Then, running up to Lin Zhixue, she retrieved a pastry wrapped in a handkerchief from inside her coat.
The handkerchief was slightly faded, its corner embroidered with a crooked little flower. The pastry inside had been warmed by her body heat, a small piece crumbled off the edge.
“Big Sister, this is for you to eat.”
She held the handkerchief high. Though tears brought on by fear still hung on her face, she was already beaming.
“You were amazing just now! You knocked down that huge monster with a single strike!”
Lin Zhixue looked down at the little girl, who didn’t even reach her shoulder. Her eyes were clear and earnest, brimming with unreserved admiration.
Reaching out, she accepted the offered handkerchief and gently unfolded it. Wrapped within was a flattened malt sugar pancake, most of its sugar glaze melted.
“...Thank you.”
The caravan members gathered round, voicing their thanks one after another.
The injured old man stepped forward, cupping his hands to Lin Zhixue. “Thank you, young lady, for coming to our rescue! We are a merchant caravan heading to the Central Domain to sell goods. Had it not been for you today, our group likely would have perished. May I ask where you are headed?”
“Cold Water Valley,” Lin Zhixue replied.
The old man’s expression changed abruptly, and he hurriedly advised, “Cold Water Valley is exceedingly perilous! The cold in that valley bites to the bone; ordinary Foundation Establishment cultivators cannot withstand it at all and are forced to retreat after mere moments. Young lady, you must never venture in rashly!”
“I am aware,” Lin Zhixue nodded gently. “I only trouble you to share the terrain and water source distribution within the valley.”
Seeing her mind was made up, the old man urged her no further. He painstakingly detailed everything he knew and reiterated several words of caution.
With that said, the old man cupped his hands in farewell and led the caravan on their way.
That night, Lin Zhixue built a campfire beneath a sheltered cliff face.
The snow had eased, the firelight illuminating the mottled moss along the cliff wall.
Xiaoyu floated above the campfire, holding its hands out in the flames.
Naturally, the flames passed straight through its palms, yet it still squinted, mimicking the expression of warming itself by a fire.
Lin Zhixue took the malt sugar pancake from her storage bag, broke off a small piece, and placed it in her mouth.
The sugar glaze had melted and the crust had hardened a bit, but as she chewed, a faint scent of wheat came through.
She carefully wrapped up the rest of the pancake and stowed it back in her storage bag.
Xiaoyu tilted its head, watching her do all this without its usual chattering commentary.
“Zhixue.”
“Mm?”
“Nothing.”
It flipped over, floating belly-up above the campfire.
It watched snowflakes drift down from the night sky, passing through its translucent form before falling into the fire, turning into wisps of white vapor.
Lin Zhixue stoked the campfire, coaxing the flames to burn a little brighter.
...
The flying sword traveled through the clouds for most of the day before familiar silhouettes gradually emerged below.
The walls of Canglan City, the low, grey-tiled courtyards in the west of the city, and the snow-covered main bluestone street cutting through the center.
Gu Yanqing landed his sword in a secluded spot outside the city gates. As he stepped onto the accumulated snow, a faint crunch sounded beneath his feet.
It was snowing in Canglan City as well.
Rows of icicles hung beneath the eaves flanking the streets. At the alley mouth, an old man selling baked cakes huddled behind his stove, rubbing his hands, while several children chased each other through the snow, stuffing snowballs down one another’s collars.
It had likely been spring when he transmigrated here, the bluestone pavers of the rainy alley glistening wet from the downpour.
Now, the city was draped in snow. Those bluestone slabs, that rainy alley, and that corner where she had fallen into the mud were all buried beneath the white, hidden from sight.
The steps before the Gu manor’s entrance were swept clean.
He pushed open the doors and stepped inside. Liu Ruolan was seated in the main hall reviewing ledgers; looking up and seeing him standing in the doorway, she nearly dropped the ledger to the floor.
She immediately rose from her chair, hurried forward, and took hold of his arm. Scanning him up and down, questions tumbled out in rapid succession.
“How have you grown so thin? Have you not been eating properly at the sect? Why didn’t you send word ahead before returning?”
Before he could answer, she was already fretting aloud.
“Tonight I’ll make you a few extra dishes, swap your bedding for something thicker... Do you have enough spirit stones on you?”
Just then, Gu Yuanshan walked out from the study and stood beneath the veranda, his gaze settling on the courtyard.
Father and son looked quietly at each other across the courtyard for a moment before Gu Yuanshan spoke first.
“What brings you back?”
“To search for Scarlet Flame Crystal Marrow.”
“Scarlet Flame Crystal Marrow?”
“Mm.”
“That place is not peaceful.”
“I know.”
Gu Yuanshan said nothing more.
Some time ago, this son of his had changed entirely.
Where he once worried his son was idle and incompetent, he now worried not that his son lacked strength, but that he was too clear on what he set out to achieve.
He nodded, turned, and returned to his study.
Hearing the commotion from the front courtyard, Xiaohe ran out from the back, still holding a wooden trowel for digging soil, her apron flecked with bits of spirit herb leaves.
She ran up to Gu Yanqing and stood on tiptoe to peer behind him.
It was empty—only a few snowflakes swirling in the wind.
“Young Master, where is Lady Lin?”
Gu Yanqing lifted his gaze at her words. “She went to Cold Water Valley.”
Xiaohe was visibly taken aback, familiar worry instantly welling in her eyes as she blurted out, “By herself?”
Gu Yanqing’s tone was calm, tinged with a touch of certainty.
“Don’t worry. She’s very strong now, and hasn’t needed my care for a long time.”
He was not wrong. The present Lin Zhixue had a solid Foundation Establishment and had even forced back a Golden Core Dao protector single-handedly; she was no longer the little girl of the past who required others to shield her.
Hearing this, Xiaohe set her heart completely at ease, offering a gentle smile as she clutched the wooden trowel.
“That’s good. It seems Miss truly is becoming more and more capable.”
“This trip to Cold Water Valley will surely go smoothly.”
Gu Yanqing did not reply.
Their surroundings fell instantly quiet, yet that inexplicable knot of tightness in his chest only grew clearer.
Indeed, she had long ceased to need him.
She could report to the sect on her own and venture far to temper herself alone. When bidding farewell, she was calm and poised, every action exuding the composure of someone who could stand on her own two feet.
Those past moments when she had needed him to back her up and look after her seemed like distant memories now.
Yet only when hearing someone else confirm this aloud did he realize that he felt not the slightest sense of relief.
Fragmented images flickered continuously through his mind.
He unconsciously looked toward the vacant courtyard next door, only to realize that this was the Gu clan in Canglan City.
The habit of spending day and night together had long since woven itself into daily life, completely unnoticed in ordinary times. But once severed, it was like a tear in one’s robes—hollow, and leaking drafts at every seam.
The next morning.
Gu Yanqing packed his belongings. He carefully wrapped the now-useless Red Gold Sand and left it behind, which happened to be useful for Xiaohe to nurture spirit herbs.
Liu Ruolan was still filled with concern, stuffing his storage bag full of pills and spirit stones, and thoughtfully adding a thick cloak while repeatedly reminding him that the weather had been bitterly cold lately and that he must take care of himself.
With everything settled, he pushed open the door and stepped out of the estate.
The overnight snowfall had ceased. Warm sunlight bathed Canglan City, the snow-capped roofs and clean streets dazzling bright.
Gu Yanqing stepped onto his flying sword, rising aloft to soar toward the horizon.
The city below shrank steadily, eventually turning into a faint grey shadow upon the snowy plains.
He drew back his distant gaze, fixing his eyes intently toward the vast northern sky.
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