He stared blankly at the mountaintop on the broken Baiyuchuan, knowing that all the past had become a dream.
Everything vanished into thin air.
After the Seven Swordsmen of Dingjian Pavilion departed, Tong closed his eyes and waved his hand. The shadows in the darkness bowed in unison, dragging Miaokong's corpse away. Only he remained, sitting in the deepest part of the room, slowly stroking his restored eyes.
When he was able to open his eyes again, he saw an empty and cold world.
The snow prison was as silent as death.
*********************
If we hadn't gotten lost, we should have arrived in Uliastai by now.
Miao Feng carried the dying woman and ran wildly across the snowfield like a madman, snow falling all over his blue hair.
North, north, north… The fierce wind kept blowing, and the world before him was a blank expanse, stretching endlessly—so pale and desolate, just like his life of the past twenty years. He couldn't find the way to Uliastai, stumbling and getting up several times. Even so, he dared not remove his hand from her back, dared not let the flow of his inner energy be interrupted for even a moment.
The fierce wind and snow almost numbed him.
Miao Feng stumbled and ran across the snowy plains of Uliastai, the wind whistling past his ears, feeling tears slowly freezing at the corners of his eyes. He remembered that night more than twenty years ago, when he was only five years old and had never run so recklessly. In the blink of an eye, more than twenty years had passed.
"Caw—caw—" Suddenly, the sound of birdsong came from mid-air.
He subconsciously looked up and saw a snow-white hawk circling in the air, approaching him and crying out incessantly, sadly and anxiously.
Strange... How could there be a snow hawk on such an icy plain? He paused for a moment, then suddenly realized: This is a hawk kept by humans. Since it has appeared on the snow plain, its owner is probably not far away!
Realizing it was beckoning her to follow, Miaofeng finally stood up and staggered as she ran after the bird.
That stretch of road felt like a dream—a blanket of white, where time and space seemed to freeze in an instant. He ran wildly across the snowfield, carrying the dying man, his vision blurred, his body withered, his hands growing stiff and cold in the wind, the snow obscuring the past and the future… Only the mournful cry of a white bird echoed in the air, guiding him forward.
If there truly is such a thing as "time standing still," then it is at that very moment.
On that brief stretch of road, all the emotions he could carry in his life were burned away.
On countless snowy nights that followed, he would often dream of the same scene: a gray sky, a heartless world, and a profound despair that would wake him from his dreams time and time again. Then, in the middle of the night, he would get up, put on his clothes, and remain awake for a long time.
The snow fell silently outside the window.
Uliastai.
As night fell, the innkeeper was arranging meals for the travelers when he heard a sound outside the window, and a white bird fluttered in. He was so startled that he almost dropped what he was holding. The white bird flew in through the window, circled once, and landed on a traveler's shoulder, shaking off its feathers and loosening the snow covering its body, emitting mournful cries of varying lengths.
"Xue'er, what's wrong?" The passenger asked in a low voice, slightly surprised. "Where did you fly off to?"
The man's voice was soft and clear, surprisingly a woman's voice, which startled the constable slightly.
However, before he could see clearly whether the traveler was male or female, the thick cotton curtain was suddenly lifted, a gust of cold wind swept in, and a person staggered into the post station at the city gate.
It was a young man, his face covered in dust, as if he had traveled a long way. His whole body was covered in snowflakes, and you could vaguely see that he was holding someone in his arms. That person was buried in a thick fox fur coat, and his face was not visible. Only a pale hand hung limply outside.
"Is there a doctor?" he stopped, panting, and asked loudly with a terrifying look in his eyes. "Is there a doctor here?"
The moment he looked up, everyone was startled.
Blue...blue hair?! The post station clerk suddenly felt that the man looked familiar. Wasn't this the same person who had just passed through Uliastai half a month ago and hired a carriage to head west?
"Sir, who are you...?" The constable hesitated before walking over and greeting him.
"Doctor!" But before he could finish speaking, his collar was grabbed tightly. "Tell me, where is the doctor here?!"
The man simply stretched out one hand and easily lifted the constable into the air, demanding an explanation. The poor constable frantically waved his arms and legs in the air, but he couldn't utter a single word.
The other passengers, seeing the menacing glint in the newcomer's eyes, were all equally frightened and fell silent.
"Let him go," a voice suddenly rang out quietly, "I am the doctor."
The snow hawk seemed to respond with a cry, then fluttered into flight. The traveler rose from the crowd and stepped out—
She was a woman in her thirties dressed in plain clothes. Her hair was styled in a flowing cloud bun, a style common among women from the south, with a purple jade hairpin. She was beautiful and had a noble air. She was accompanied by two maids. The group looked travel-worn, clearly having just arrived in Uliastai after a long journey. Women who showed themselves in public were rarely seen, and were usually martial arts practitioners. Strangely, however, there was no trace of martial arts on this woman.
She pushed through the crowd and walked over, gesturing for him to release the poor constable: "Let me see."
"You?" He turned to look at her, hesitating. "Are you a doctor?"
“Of course.” The woman’s eyes gleamed with pride as she held out a jade pendant to him, her tone leaving no room for argument. “I am the best doctor—do you have patients seeking treatment?”
Miao Feng paused slightly: the orchid and auspicious cloud patterns on that jade pendant seemed somewhat familiar.
The best doctor? A surge of joy washed over her. So, there was finally hope for her?!
"Then, quickly take a look at her!" He didn't have time to think and hurriedly turned around. "Take a look at her!"
The woman nodded silently and walked over.
Unmelted snow still clung to the long, silver fox fur coat, obscuring the patient's face nestled within. Yet, the pale hand exposed to the fierce wind and snow was surprisingly warm—her gaze suddenly shifted: the fingernails of that hand were an eerie emerald green!
This symptom...this symptom...
She hurriedly reached out her hand, but her face turned pale as soon as she touched him.
"This, this..." she gasped.
"Doctor, please take a look at her!" Miao Feng noticed the change in her eyes and knew something was wrong. "Please!"
Looking into the other person's frantic eyes, she was suddenly filled with fear and instinctively took a step back, muttering, "I can't save her."
"What?" Miao Feng was shocked and abruptly looked up. In an instant, her pleading gaze turned into a fierce killing intent. Gritting her teeth, she spat out each word: "You, what did you say? You dare to stand by and watch me die?!"