He took a small step back, leaving the Xuanji position—his movement instantly opened up the tightly arranged sword formation.
Miao Feng breathed a sigh of relief, instantly withdrew his hand, and leaped back onto his horse.
Huo Zhanbai stood in the heavy snow, watching the lone rider disappear into the distance to the northeast, and suddenly had a bad feeling. He didn't know where this feeling came from, but he vaguely felt that he might have missed something forever.
He stood there in the heavy snow, gripping the Ink Soul Sword tightly, letting the snow cover him completely. It wasn't until Wei Fengxing patted him on the shoulder that he snapped out of his daze. As he mounted his horse, he couldn't help but glance back in the direction where Miao Feng had disappeared.
However, that lone rider had already vanished into the vast snow, howling like ice, never to return.
—Has something…something silently passed by me?
It wasn't until much later that he learned:
It turns out that this long journey of thousands of miles was just to say goodbye for the last time, and perhaps never to see each other again.
Miao Feng embraced Xue Ziye, urging their horses to gallop wildly through the heavy snow.
Throughout the entire sky and earth, only the howling wind and snow could be heard.
The icy snow, the icy wind, the icy breath—he felt as if the blood in his body was about to freeze.
"Thump!" The exhausted horse tripped over the snowdrift, its front knee buckled, and it threw the two of them hard off its back. Miao Feng hurriedly reached out and pressed down on the saddle, trying to leap up, but his body felt as heavy as iron, completely lacking his usual agility.
He only had time to turn sideways in mid-air, letting his back bear the weight of two people, before falling to the snow.
A mouthful of blood spurted from his mouth, splattering red specks on the snow.
His body had not recovered since the battle with the King of the Sect, and the recent exchange of blows with the Seven Swords of Dingjian Pavilion had only worsened his injuries. At this moment, his body was nearing its limit.
Although both of them possessed superhuman strength, at this moment, on this endless snowfield, their journey felt utterly helpless and hopeless. In the eyes of the heavens, the two staggering figures, clinging to each other, were as insignificant as ants.
"..." He suddenly felt his arm being gripped tightly, but in the wind and snow there was only the sound of his shallow, rapid breathing, as if he wanted to say something but ultimately couldn't.
"Valley Master Xue!" Miao Feng hurriedly untied his cloak, pulled the woman out of the fox fur, and placed his hands against her back.
That pale face had turned a terrifying bluish-green. One hand gripped his shoulder tightly, while the other reached out, remaining open and convulsing slightly in the air, as if trying to grasp something with all its might.
Was that just now... was that a hallucination? She... she actually heard Huo Zhanbai's voice!
In that instant, she felt a strange joy as she lay dying. With astonishing strength, she raised her hand, trying to touch the source of the voice—but due to the corrosive effects of the poison, she was unable to utter a single word.
"..." Her breathing was silent and rapid, her vision gradually went blank, and then a warm smile slowly appeared—
"I'll challenge you to a drinking contest when I get back!"
Plum blossoms fell like snowflakes. Under the plum tree, the man smiled at her, raised his hand, and made a rock-paper-scissors gesture.
"Huh, huh..." Her lips moved slightly, and she finally uttered a single word.
"Valley Master Xue!" The soft voice elicited a low gasp of joy from those around her, who stopped to look at her. "You're finally awake?"
Yes, whose voice is that?
She opened her eyes, and what she saw was long blue hair and white snow.
"Yami...is that you?" Her senses returned slightly, and she let out a soft sigh—so, it was this person who had never given up trying to save her life? He had only known her for a short time, yet he had stayed with her until the very last moment of her life.
Is this also a profound predestined connection?
He was about to say something, but she suddenly held up a finger: "Shh...look."
Her slender, pale fingers trembled as she pointed to the snow-covered sky. Her bloodless lips parted slightly, letting out a joyful sigh: "Light."
Miao Feng subconsciously looked up, but the gray sky was as cold as iron, with only countless snowflakes falling down, desolate as death.
He was suddenly gripped by a deep-seated fear, and abruptly lowered his head: "Valley Master Xue!"
In the instant she drew his attention away, her hand finally managed to grasp the longest gold needle, holding it tightly in her palm.
"Light." She lay in her soft fox fur, gazing up at the sky, a subtle, enigmatic smile playing on her lips.
In her gradually blurring vision, countless tiny points of light floated, each carrying a beautiful color, dancing and chasing each other like a flock of fairies. Finally, they coalesced into a seven-colored band of light, constantly shifting and changing in mid-air, enveloping her.
She reached out her hand to the sky, trying her best to touch the beautiful, illusory light.
To go to the far north with the one you love, to watch the ever-changing seven colors of light in the sky above the floating, massive glaciers... that was her dream when she was a girl.
However, her dream was frozen forever in the dark ice river when she was thirteen years old.
Having survived the ordeal, she lived alone in a secluded valley, leading a peaceful life with a tranquil heart, burying her life silently like falling snow.
However, at one point, she also longed for a new life.
She longs for someone to enter her life, someone who allows her to laugh freely and cry without restraint, someone who can penetrate the barriers erected by the past and reach each other's hearts. She hopes to leave her marriage like an ordinary woman, veiled in her wedding gown, and to smile quietly and happily under the red candles; to sit in her embroidered chamber when the willow branches first sprout, waiting for her beloved's return; and to dispel all the cold nightmares of the past with newly brewed wine in a small red clay stove and serious or unserious conversation on every snowy night.
At one time, she did have a small yearning for happiness.
However, in the end, everything just slipped by.
The snow kept falling. She opened her eyes and gazed at the gray-white sky, where snowflakes danced like fairies, slowly growing larger and larger... falling onto her eyelashes, cold and playful.
How many days has it been?
The poison of the Seven Star Begonia is slowly eroding her brain. Soon, she will forget everything.
She opened her eyes blankly, desperately trying to grasp the fading illusions in her mind, while her other hand, hidden in her fox fur, tightly gripped the long golden needle.
As expected, when the seven swordsmen of Dingjian Pavilion arrived at Nantianmen, they encountered virtually no resistance along the way.