Volume Two: Snow in Qinchuan Chapter Thirty-One: Sacrificing the Sword (Part 1)

Arriving with grand momentum, departing in silent stealth.

Gazing at the dejected Prince of Yanbei's army in the distance, a trace of reluctance flashed through Feng Qi's eyes.

Since Yun Changqing could not convey the true reason, there was only one possible interpretation.

The Crown Prince of Yanbei had abandoned Yanbei.

"Since you feel reluctant, why not meet them openly and honestly?" Zhou Zihan said softly. "You have done nothing to wrong them, so there is no need to skulk about."

Indeed, it lacked openness.

Feng Qi sighed. "Do you know what it means to feel timid when approaching one's homeland?"

Zhou Zihan suddenly thought of that place filled with white clouds, yet she felt no similar emotion whatsoever.

Feng Qi sneered. "As expected of the Innate Formless Sword Physique, truly as frosty and cold as a sword."

Zhou Zihan frowned and glanced at Feng Qi. "Are you out of your mind?"

Feng Qi was left speechless.

Zhou Zihan was quite satisfied with Feng Qi's reaction and said, "It's time to go down the mountain."

Because of the sword intent body-tempering, they had already delayed for several days.

Feng Qi asked, "What about the Sword Worship?"

Zhou Zihan looked at Feng Qi with disdain. "Is there any need for Sword Worship at the Chasing Moon Peak now?"

Feng Qi said, "But the Sword Heir of Chasing Moon Peak said they would wait for us tomorrow noon."

Zhou Zihan thought for a moment and said, "I invited you first."

First come, first served—a very simple principle.

Feng Qi nodded. "That makes sense."

Zhou Zihan turned around and left.

Feng Qi smiled, glanced in the direction where the Yanbei army had departed, and turned away.

......

"Did the people from Yanbei leave?"

"Yes."

"How is the Sword Heir?"

"Nothing unusual."

"Alright, you may withdraw."

"......"

"Wait."

"Does the Senior Brother have any further instructions?"

"Tell the Butcher and the others... there's no need to let all of these Yanbei people return alive."

"Senior Brother... they are only ordinary people."

"If they can shatter the Sword Heir's Dao heart, then they are no longer ordinary people."

......

Qinchuan was bitterly cold, swept by heavy winds and snow, making ordinary means of transport completely unusable here.

Zhou Zihan borrowed a snow eagle from the outer mountain. She and Feng Qi mounted it one after the other, and shortly after, they soared high into the sky.

Perhaps due to the Yanbei affair, Feng Qi hardly spoke throughout the journey.

Zhou Zihan looked at the scenery sweeping backward on both sides, thought for a moment, and asked, "Bad mood?"

Feng Qi smiled. "Do you really care?"

Aside from Li Jingxing's divination, Feng Qi and Zhou Zihan had no emotional foundation whatsoever; their only communication was through the sword.

Fights often built a certain kind of camaraderie, after all.

As for love, that required cultivation.

Much like him and Dugu Ling'er.

Zhou Zihan said, "No, it's just that your complexion isn't very good, and you aren't talking as much as usual, which makes me feel a bit strange."

Feng Qi asked in puzzlement, "Didn't you always hate me for talking too much?"

Zhou Zihan fell silent for a moment before saying, "I do indeed detest your glib tongue."

Feng Qi corrected her, "Silver-tongued and sharp-witted, you mean."

Too lazy to argue with him about the nuances of those phrases, Zhou Zihan changed the subject and asked, "Why did you come to Xueyun?"

Feng Qi stretched out his hand, enjoying the feeling of the howling gale brushing past his palm. "Because I wanted to come."

Zhou Zihan said, "I'm asking why you wanted to come."

Feng Qi rolled his eyes at her, though she couldn't see it.

"For a swordsmanship genius like me, if I couldn't shine brightly in the Xueyun Sect and ultimately become a generation's Sword Immortal, it would simply be a waste of all this innate talent."

This was one reason, but not the only one.

However, just as Feng Qi had said moments ago, Zhou Zihan did not care about such things.

After a brief silence, Zhou Zihan suddenly said, "I think you look a bit like someone."

Feng Qi raised an eyebrow. "The Old Monarch? I've heard that when he was young, he was a genius just like me!"

Zhou Zihan didn't know what to say to that.

Feng Qi put away his joking manner. "Go on."

"You are a lot like the Scholar," Zhou Zihan said softly. "Whether in speech or in action."

Feng Qi gave a bitter laugh. "I can't tell whether you are praising me or ruining me."

Zhou Zihan let out an affirmative hum, thinking that to be connected to such a figure, even if only resembling them by a single finger, should be a matter of pride.

Feng Qi said earnestly, "While I don't deny that the man's intellect could pierce the heavens, he was, after all, a sinister schemer. He walked the path of deviousness and practiced the arts of craftiness. Although I, Feng Qi, am arrogant and unruly, I am at least open, upright, and straightforward. To compare me with him—if I didn't know your temperament to be so aloof, I would likely think you were trying to humiliate me."

Zhou Zihan let this pass without a word.

Only then did Feng Qi remember the traditional reverence for heaven, earth, monarch, kin, and teacher.

"Of course, among the myriad paths in this world, none is absolute; it ultimately depends on the person," Feng Qi said. "Judging by Li Jingxing's life, at least in his early years, he still cared for the country and its people."

Still, Zhou Zihan offered no reply.

Feeling somewhat helpless, Feng Qi wisely shut his mouth, half-closing his eyes to rest.

"If you want to be angry, go ahead. I'll rest for a bit; wake me up once we're out of Qinchuan."

The rest of the journey was uneventful. Two days later, they arrived in Bianzhou.

Dengxian Tower was the finest inn in Bianzhou.

After partaking in a midday meal at Dengxian Tower, all of Zhou Zihan's grievances toward Feng Qi vanished.

Having him by her side truly was an exceptionally wise decision; at least she didn't have to worry about food and lodging.

Walking into the room, Zhou Zihan wore a rare look of satisfaction.

The interior was spotless, with bright windows and clean surfaces. Most importantly, the soundproofing was superb—the bustling clamor of the outside world could not penetrate this serene and tranquil sanctuary, meaning she could calm her mind and practice her swordsmanship in peace.

After finishing the meal, Feng Qi had left the inn, though she didn't know where he had gone.

Not worrying about him, Zhou Zihan sat cross-legged on the bed. A hazy glow rose over her skin, and her vital energy followed her meridians to light up her acupoints one by one, finally coming to a halt at the Tianchi acupoint.

"This isn't the mental cultivation method of Qianren Peak; it rather tastes a bit like the lineage of the Longxi Li family," Feng Qi's voice sounded from behind her.

Zhou Zihan opened her eyes, ignoring his remark, and asked, "Where did you go?"

Feng Qi replied, "The Xiaoyao Pavilion."

With a soft "Oh," Zhou Zihan said no more.

Her vital energy receded like a tide, and her body gradually returned to normal.

Feng Qi looked at her. "Don't you want to know what I asked when I went to the Xiaoyao Pavilion?"

"No," Zhou Zihan answered.

Feng Qi pressed on, "This is a prime opportunity to mock me, and you're just going to let it pass?"

Zhou Zihan furrowed her brow slightly. "Do I look like someone with that much time to waste?"

Feng Qi chuckled softly. "On my way in, I was wondering what on earth you would ask me if you found out I went to the Xiaoyao Pavilion. Now it seems I was overthinking things indeed."

Zhou Zihan fell silent for a moment. "So, what did you find out?"

Feng Qi clenched his left fist and slammed it heavily into his right hand. "That's more like it... Otherwise, with you being so cold and aloof, I'd feel rather awkward!"

Zhou Zihan quietly watched him.

Scratching his head, Feng Qi said, "I didn't find out anything at all."

"Oh?" Zhou Zihan queried. "How so?"

Feng Qi laughed. "Because I didn't dare to go inside in the first place."

"Why?" Zhou Zihan asked in confusion.

Feng Qi said, "There were two people blocking the entrance, looking like members of some cult. I couldn't beat them."

Zhou Zihan raised an eyebrow, stood up, and walked toward the door.

"Where is the Xiaoyao Pavilion? Take me there."

Feng Qi asked, "What are you going there for?"

Without looking back, Zhou Zihan replied, "I came down the mountain for them in the first place. Now that I've run into them, how could I not kill them?"

......

No matter where it was located, the Xiaoyao Pavilion always looked the same.

A single courtyard, a single room, a single tree, one stone table, and two stone stools.

The room sat to the north of the courtyard, the tree stood beside the courtyard, the table rested beneath the tree, and the stools were placed before the table.

Both stone stools were occupied, though their occupants did not appear to be here to consult about problems.

Feng Qi raised an eyebrow and said to Zhou Zihan, "Two practitioners in the Heart-Convergence realm. Can you handle them?"

Zhou Zihan gave him a calm look and walked toward the house at the north of the courtyard.

One of the men seated on a stone stool spoke indifferently, "A disciple of Xueyun?"

"Qianren Peak, Zhou Zihan," she replied.

The man who had spoken said, "Whoever you are, get lost, or I won't be polite."

Zhou Zihan's delicate brows lifted slightly as she uttered word by word, "Do you want to die?"

Looking somewhat surprised, the man sneered, "Not old, but quite a temper!"

Shaking her head, Zhou Zihan drew Wen Yue from her sea of consciousness.

The man let out a soft exclamation of surprise. "Not much strength, but the sword isn't weak. Are you the Sword Heir of the Xueyun Sect?"

Without answering, Zhou Zihan took a step forward, and a silvery-white sword radiance unfolded before her like a crescent moon.

Returning Wind Gazing at the Moon!

Feng Qi raised an eyebrow, thinking that this girl truly showed no mercy when striking.

Those two cult disciples likely had not expected Zhou Zihan to be so aggressive, drawing her sword at the slightest disagreement.

The air flickered, leaving only a single cult disciple in the arena.

Feng Qi felt a slight surge of surprise, wondering how such a remote backwater could harbor a core disciple of the Soul-Seizing Pavilion.

The other cult disciple's eyes suddenly turned blood-red, and a dense bloody mist enveloped his entire body. The crescent moon blade slashed into the blood mist, scattering only a tiny wisp of vapor.

The Great Formless Art and the Blood Mist Decapitation Technique—these were clearly two high-ranking cult fiends.

Why were they here?

As he pondered this, the blood mist suddenly split to form a hand that viciously grabbed toward Zhou Zihan.

"Wild Goose Returns to Face the Sun!" Feng Qi suddenly shouted.

Wild Goose Returns to Face the Sun was an evasive combat technique possessing zero offensive power.

Zhou Zihan frowned, thinking that although the opponent was in the Initial Brilliance realm, his attack power was clearly inferior to hers. Why not seize the opportunity to settle the match in one blow with Dragon Emerging from the Water?

Though she thought much, it had all occurred in the span of a single breath.

Zhou Zihan's figure drifted backward like a falling leaf.

Right where she had been standing, a dark ink-black saber suddenly burst forth from the ground.

To be precise, the saber had emerged from her shadow. Seeing that it had missed her, it instantly vanished back into obscurity.

Zhou Zihan started slightly, finally realizing that her opponent was not just one person.

She looked at Feng Qi, who smiled back at her and glanced toward the Blood-Weeping Pavilion disciple.

"Xuanji."

"Dragon Emerging from the Water."

"Sitting on the Platform Watching the Clouds."

"Flying Swallow Chasing the Moon."

Xuanji was an acupoint, while the remaining three were sword forms.

A gust of sharp wind blew past, and Zhou Zihan instantly appeared before the Blood-Weeping Pavilion disciple, thrusting Wen Yue half a foot deep into the blood mist.

Lowering her stance slightly while swinging her right hand, she thrust Wen Yue upward in a fierce slash, tearing an opening straight through the blood mist with sword radiance.

The cries of wild geese rang out as dozens of fluttering sword gleams bloomed in the open space.

The blood mist gradually dissipated amid the sword light, and the Blood-Weeping Pavilion disciple let out a muffled groan before collapsing into a puddle of mangled flesh.

Zhou Zihan's complexion turned somewhat pale. She looked at Feng Qi, her pupils contracting slightly.

Leaning her left hand on a dark ink-black saber, Feng Qi was sitting atop the corpse of the Formless Pavilion disciple, smiling brightly at her.

After a moment of silence, Zhou Zihan asked, "How did you do that?"

Feng Qi smiled. "I didn't do it. Qingshuang did it."

Zhou Zihan gave him a deep look, unconvinced.

No matter how powerful a magical treasure might be, without a powerful master, it was nothing more than scrap metal.

Yet since Feng Qi chose not to explain, she saw no need to press the matter.

Fortunately, there was still one question she could ask.

"Although the Blood Mist Decapitation Technique is said to have a fatal weakness, its exact location varies from person to person, and sometimes even they themselves don't know it. How could you be so certain his fatal weakness was at the Xuanji acupoint?"

Feng Qi thought for a moment and replied earnestly, "Well... I guessed."