"You're such a good man." After bandaging his hand, the former Valley Master of the Pharmacist Valley couldn't help but murmur a sigh.
She swallowed the rest of her sentence—"Unfortunately, my disciple is not blessed."
Huo Zhanbai just smiled, seemingly extremely tired, and didn't even bother with polite words. He just stared blankly at the white plum blossoms outside the window.
"The plum blossoms in Medicine Master Valley should be almost gone by now." Suddenly, he murmured, "Why hasn't Snow Hawk returned yet? I wanted to rush back to Medicine Master Valley to drink with her before the plum blossoms withered—but unfortunately, I can't do that now."
Liao Qingran sighed, lowered her head, and couldn't bear to look at those empty eyes.
She still vividly remembers the passion and hope in the man's eyes on the night they set off from Nanjing—when he said, "I miss her so much," there was an excitement and shyness in his eyes that only a young person experiencing first love could have, as if after years of despair, he was seeing a new hope for life for the first time.
However, the clutches of fate did not give him any chance. After he had a chance to catch his breath, they knocked him down again!
She lost her son and suddenly went insane.
You're always late... We've missed each other for a lifetime... In a semi-mad state, she looked at him with such despair and sorrow, uttering words she had never spoken before. Those words instantly shattered all his reason.
She went mad after saying those words, and he could no longer leave.
He could no longer return to that snow-covered valley and stayed in the small courtyard at the foot of Mount Jiuyao, whether he was willing or not—such deep and unwavering affection would probably become a beautiful story passed down in the martial arts world in the future.
But what an absurd and desolate life that was!
How ridiculous. He was already past the age of having dreams, yet he still harbored this extravagant hope of grasping happiness again—so it's only natural that his dream was a pipe dream, leaving him with nothing but regret.
"Madam Qiu's illness is no longer serious; she just needs to take the medicine as prescribed daily. However, whether she can recover depends on her own fate." Liao Qingran put away the medicine pillow and said calmly, "Young Master Huo, I have done my best, and it is time for me to take my leave."
"This..." Huo Zhanbai stood up in surprise, momentarily bewildered.
It's not that I didn't know this doctor would eventually leave—but once she leaves, then the last connection with that woman in purple will be completely severed, right?
"Could Valley Master Liao stay a few more days?" he murmured, somewhat at a loss.
"No, I'll pack my things and leave tomorrow." Liao Qingran shook her head, also somewhat anxious. "Yesterday I received a message from Feng Xing saying that Dingjian Pavilion is recruiting eight swordsmen and he is heading to Kunlun Daming Palace. There's no one to look after the baby at home, so I need to get back as soon as possible."
"Summon the Eight Swords?" Huo Zhanbai was slightly startled, knowing that it must be an extremely serious matter. "In that case, Valley Master Liao should hurry back."
Liao Qingran nodded: "Seventh Young Master Huo...you should also take care of yourself."
The plum blossoms in front of the courtyard are like snow, and the early spring wind is still chilly.
Huo Zhanbai broke off a branch of plum blossoms and stared at it for a while, his mind in turmoil—to the Great Bright Palace? What on earth had happened this time? Since Xu Chonghua's defection eight years ago, the Eight Swords had become Seven Swords, and the Central Plains Dingjian Pavilion and the Western Regions Great Bright Palace had ceased large-scale battles. This time, the old pavilion master suddenly summoned the Eight Swords; could it be that something major had occurred again?
Since even Wei Fengxing, who had been in seclusion for a long time with his wife, had gone to Dingjian Pavilion to receive orders, it was only a matter of time before he received his own orders.
He sighed deeply and turned to look out the window. Liao Qingran was giving the sleeping woman her last medical check-up before leaving. Amidst the lingering fragrance of nectar, a rare moment of tranquility appeared on her pale and haggard face, restoring her usual elegant and refined appearance.
He let out a silent sigh and lowered his head.
Autumn Water... Autumn Water, is it our destiny that neither of us can let the other go?
She was the person he loved most in his life, but after more than ten years of trials and tribulations, that passion had been gradually worn away, and now he only felt endless weariness and emptiness.
He strolled into the depths of the courtyard, when suddenly, a figure in blue robes landed silently.
"Who?" Huo Zhanbai raised an eyebrow, and the Ink Soul Sword leaped out of its sheath.
“Seventh Brother,” the man in blue raised his hand to stop him, then laughed heartily, “it’s me.”
"Qianyu?" Recognizing Xia Qianyu, the fourth-ranked among the Eight Swords, Huo Zhanbai breathed a sigh of relief. "Why are you here?"
"The Pavilion Master has summoned you." The usually carefree Xia Qianyu now looked solemn and slowly raised her hand, in which was a Jianghu order issued by the Pavilion Master of Dingjian Pavilion. "The Demonic Sect has been plagued by internal strife recently. The Holy Maiden Uma was killed, and Tong, who was in charge of the Shura Field, was captured after the rebellion failed. Now the Demonic Sect's strength has been weakened like never before, which is the perfect opportunity to wipe them out in one fell swoop!"
"Tong rebelled?" Huo Zhanbai exclaimed in surprise, then suddenly realized—no wonder he risked his life to seize the Dragon Blood Pearl! It turned out he had harbored rebellious intentions from the beginning, intending to poison the Pope!
"Is the information reliable?" he asked calmly, verifying this crucial intelligence.
“Reliable.” Xia Qianyu lowered her head, turned the hilt of her sword upside down, and pressed it against her brow, a gesture used by the eight swords of Dingjian Pavilion to recognize each other. “It comes from here.”
Huo Zhanbai was suddenly startled, and the plum blossom in his hand fell to the ground.
—Could it be that message came from that person? He... he's still alive!
"The Pavilion Master has ordered that the seven of us gather at Dingjian Pavilion within three days and head to Kunlun!" Xia Qianyu repeated the order.
Huo Zhanbai glanced at the sleeping woman inside the window, somewhat worried: "Where is she?"
“My family is also in Lin’an. We can have Madam Qiu stay at our residence for a while,” Xia Qianyu said with a smile. “That way, you won’t have any worries.”
Huo Zhanbai hesitated. Qiu Shuiyin's illness had just stabilized, how could he leave her alone?
"Seventh Brother, everyone in the world knows you're loyal and righteous—but this siege of the Demon Palace is a matter of great importance concerning the very lifeline of the martial world! Putting aside everything else, that Tong, I'm afraid no one but you is confident in dealing with him." Xia Qianyu was unusually modest, staring straight at him, then suddenly sneered, "If you don't go, so be it—at most, Fifth Brother and I will just give our lives at the Demon Palace. Anyway, countless people have already died for this matter, so a few more won't make a difference."
"No!" Huo Zhanbai almost blurted out—if something happened to Wei Fengxing, what would happen to his beloved wife and children?
Finally, he sighed and said, "Fine, I'll go."
"I knew you'd still go." Xia Qianyu breathed a sigh of relief, finally smiled, and patted Huo Zhanbai's shoulder heavily. "Good brother!"
That afternoon, the two swordsmen rode side by side away from Lin'an to Dingjian Pavilion to join the other five swordsmen.
The elegant house at the foot of Jiuyou Mountain was empty, with only fallen white plum blossoms scattered on the ground.
"Coo-coo." A white bird descended from the wind, a handkerchief tied to its leg, and landed wearily on the windowsill, chirping urgently, but its owner never appeared. It had brought back important information from the far north, but its owner was no longer there.
Seven top swordsmen from the Central Plains martial arts world will soon meet at Dingjian Pavilion, galloping on horseback through the biting cold of early spring, swords in hand, heading west towards Kunlun.
The snow hawk pecked the handkerchief off its claws, hung it on a plum branch, and lingered there for a long time.