How he wished he were still the spirited young man he was eight years ago, so reckless and unwavering; he had even believed he would maintain this hopeless yet ardent love for the rest of his life—yet, all of it eventually faded away with time. Strangely, he felt neither sadness at this loss nor shame for giving up.
It turns out that even the deepest feelings in life cannot withstand the test of time.
Liu Feifei was smart; knowing it was unattainable, she calmly let go—but what about him? In fact, the moment he woke up on that snowy night, he had already let go of that thread in his heart that he once thought he would never let go of.
He rode south all the way, but his heart remained in the north.
"Actually, I've already lost to her..." Huo Zhanbai thought for a long time, then suddenly looked at Ye Xue and sighed deeply, saying something out of the blue, "I miss her so much."
Liao Qingran, who had been focused on her journey, paused for a moment and turned to look at the young man.
—The story of Feng Xing, the seventh brother, has spread throughout the entire martial arts world. His high spirits, his madness and obsession, his forbearance and perseverance—all these things are the subject of much discussion and sighing throughout the martial arts world.
However, on this snowy night, just as he was about to fulfill his long-cherished wish, he suddenly changed his mind.
With a whistle, the snow hawk, which had been flying in mid-air, turned and gently landed on his shoulder, its black bean-like eyes gazing at him. He freed one hand, wrote a few lines with a charcoal stick, then tied a cloth to the snow hawk's foot, flapped its wings, and pointed to the sky at the northern horizon: "Go."
As if understanding its master's meaning, the snow hawk made a gurgling sound, flapped its wings, and flew away, disappearing into the vast snowstorm.
The cloth fluttered in the wind and snow, yet the few lines of words on it subtly conveyed a sense of warmth:
Newly brewed wine with green ant-like hues, a small red clay stove with a burning fire.
The sky threatens snow as evening approaches; shall we share a cup?
Purple Night, I will soon return north. Please wait for me under the plum tree with warm wine.
I will definitely beat you.
The next night, the two, who had been riding at breakneck speed, arrived at Qingbo Gate.
It had just snowed in Lin'an, and some snow had still accumulated on the Broken Bridge. Before the two could appreciate it, they spurred their horses and rushed across the long embankment like the wind, only to fall off their horses at the foot of Jiuyou Mountain in the eastern suburbs of the city.
"Is this Madam Xu here?" Liao Qingran dismounted, carrying a medicine bag, and looked at a small building among the willows. Suddenly, her expression changed. "Oh no!"
Huo Zhanbai looked up in response and saw the white cloth on the lintel and the faint sound of crying coming from inside. His expression changed drastically at the same time.
"Qiu Shui!" he exclaimed in surprise, rushing forward. "Qiu Shui!"
He lifted the curtain before the altar and rushed in, seeing a small coffin placed in the flickering candlelight. Inside, the child's eyes were tightly closed, cheeks sunken deep, and the small body curled up in a ball.
"Mo'er? Mo'er!" He felt as if he had been struck by lightning. He bent down to check her breath, but it was already ice cold.
There was a clanging sound from the back room, as if some porcelain had fallen and shattered on the floor.
"You're too late." Suddenly, he heard a cold voice say.
"You're always late," the voice said coldly, a deep madness hidden beneath its calm. "Ha... Did you come to see how Mo'er died? Or—to see how I died?"
As if a bucket of ice water had been poured over his head, Huo Zhanbai turned around abruptly and blurted out, "Qiu Shui!"
A beautiful woman emerged from behind the mourning hall, dressed in white, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. She staggered towards him, slowly extending her hands—her fingers a horribly purplish-blue. He gazed at the face he had longed for since his youth, and realized that in the half-year he hadn't seen her, she had become so haggard that it was unbearable to look at.
For a moment, his mind went blank, and he stood there unable to move.
"Huo Zhanbai, why are you always late..." she murmured, "always...too late..."
Whether it was a hallucination or not, he vaguely felt that her once black hair was turning gray one strand at a time.
"Oh no! Grab her!" Liao Qingran rushed in and, seeing the other woman's face and fingers, exclaimed, "She's taken poison! Grab her!"
"What?" He suddenly woke up and subconsciously reached for Qiu Shuiyin's hand, but she nimbly escaped.
"Hehe... Come and catch me..." The woman in white turned nimbly, blood still lingering at the corner of her lips, her eyes glazed yet perfectly clear. Lifting the hem of her skirt, she ran towards the back hall, giggling softly, "Come and catch me... If you catch me, I'll—"
Before she could finish speaking, Huo Zhanbai had already darted over like lightning, grabbed her shoulder, and cried out in a trembling voice, "Qiu Shui!"
"If I catch you, I'll kill you!" A frenzied hatred suddenly flared in those eyes. "Kill you!"
"Watch out!" Liao Qingran cried out from behind. With a "slice" sound, Huo Zhanbai's shoulder was slashed by a sharp blade. However, his face was ashen, and he didn't care about the injury on his shoulder at all. He released his inner force from his palm, instantly knocking the crazed woman unconscious.
"It's too late...you can't catch me now..." Before losing consciousness, the haggard and emaciated woman raised her hand and viciously pinched the wound on his shoulder. "I told you to catch me...but you didn't! You're too late..."
"When I married into the Xu family, I was waiting for you to stop me and take me away... Why did you come so late?"
"Later... I begged you to save my husband... but why did you come so late?"
"A day ago, Mo'er slowly breathed her last in my arms... Why did you come so late!"
His blood flowed down her fingers, yet he seemed oblivious.
"Ha, ha! It's too late...too late! We missed each other for a lifetime..." she murmured, her voice gradually weakening as she slowly collapsed to the ground, "Huo, Huo Zhanbai...I hate you so much."
Liao Qingran bent down to take his pulse and check his complexion, then hurriedly rummaged through her medicine bag and pulled out a bottle of emerald-green medicine: "Heartbreak Powder".
—This woman must have been waiting in vain for a savior, and after watching her only son die, she desperately drank this poison in an attempt to end her own life.
Liao Qingran never expected that after rushing to Lin'an overnight, she would not only fail to save the person she was supposed to save, but also have to save someone else who was not part of her plan.
Liao Qingran flipped Qiu Shuiyin's eyelids: "Now we'll have to stay with her for at least three days—but once she wakes up, we'll need to check if she's mentally unstable... Her emotions just now were really off."
However, when she looked up, the female doctor suddenly froze—
"Is it too late?" Huo Zhanbai murmured, his hands trembling as if he were being overwhelmed by a flood of memories. The illusions that had vanished for many nights returned: the beautiful girl running through the apricot grove, lifting her skirt, turning back to smile at him—he had always thought it was just a joke, but little did he know, it was her first and last request.
"Come and catch me... If you catch me, I'll marry you."
Her smile kept flashing before his eyes, which only hastened his breakdown.