Chapter Fourteen: Night on Drifting Snow Peak

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In the deep stillness of the night, sleep eluded Qin Yi. Whenever he closed his eyes, he could not help but picture Jiang Yao’s delicate, lovely face, now so pale that her fair skin made her look utterly bloodless.

“Should I sneak up to Snowdrift Peak?” Qin Yi sprang up from his bed again, restless and uneasy.

“If you want to go, then go. I’ll help keep your Uncle-Master Xue occupied.” Just as he struggled with himself in his room, the voice of Master Zixuan sounded from outside the door.

“Really? Master?” Qin Yi flung open the door in excitement. Seeing Master Zixuan smiling at him from the threshold, he could not hide his elation.

“For the sake of my disciple’s lifelong happiness, I suppose I must sacrifice a bit of my own charm tonight,” Master Zixuan replied, her gentle smile filled with warmth.

The two shared a knowing look and set off together under the moonlight toward Snowdrift Peak.

“We’ve reached the point where you know the way; go on, then.” At the fork along the mountainside path, Master Zixuan pointed toward another trail.

“Alright, Master, show off your charm a little longer for me!” Qin Yi chuckled, flashing a mischievous grin at her.

“Off with you! Now that you’ve got someone, you forget all about your master.” Master Zixuan gave him a playful kick, grumbling without a trace of her usual dignified air.

Qin Yi said nothing more, heading straight for the main summit of Snowdrift Peak. Once he was gone, Master Zixuan looked up at the cluster of buildings gleaming under the moonlight atop the peak and sighed, “What I once never dared do for myself, I now do for my disciple.”

Tonight was the fifteenth of the lunar month—a night of the full moon. The moonlight shone dazzlingly bright, and Snowdrift Peak, ever blanketed in snow, gleamed as purely as the nearby clouds around Cloud Island, just as Nanhua Peak was ever green. The entire mountain seemed as immaculate as the drifting clouds.

Qin Yi hurried along the mountain path. The trail where he parted from his master was not far from the main buildings of Snowdrift Peak, so he soon arrived at his destination.

Fortunately, Jiang Yao’s quarters lay beside a cliff, her balcony close to a towering Sacred Elm. In their previous life, both he and Jiang Yao had grown up as orphans, naturally spending much time together. Yet Jiang Yao’s master, Xue Songmei, and Master Zixuan were entirely different in temperament, so whenever Qin Yi wished to see Jiang Yao, he would either have to climb the Sacred Elm or wait for her to seek him out.

Standing beneath the immense tree, Qin Yi glanced up at its smooth bark. He felt no hesitation; after all, he had long since grown accustomed to scaling this very tree.

“Jiang Yao, wait for me,” Qin Yi murmured, and began his ascent, moving up the trunk with the ease of a gecko climbing a wall.

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“Almost there,” he whispered, eyeing the next branch. Once across, he would be only a step away from Jiang Yao’s balcony. All these years later, the branch had likely grown even longer.

“Damn it, who did this?” He had not gone far when he cursed in frustration—the branch had been cut partway through.

“Heaven never blocks all paths.” With a grin, Qin Yi pulled a green pill from his robe. It was a Lightfoot Pellet, given to him by Zhu Chunfu just in case.

But as he prepared to swallow the pellet, a chilling realization struck him: Uncle-Master Xue was keeping watch on Jiang Yao’s roof.

“Her condition must be worse than I thought to make Uncle-Master Xue guard her personally,” Qin Yi whispered in disbelief. He had noticed Jiang Yao’s pallor earlier, but had not imagined things were so dire.

“It seems I was too naïve.” Qin Yi clenched his fists. He realized now how much Jiang Yao had endured on his behalf.

“But now, all I can do is wait for Master to act.” With a helpless shrug, he resigned himself. As long as Uncle-Master Xue’s attention remained fixed on Jiang Yao’s quarters, Qin Yi knew he had no chance of slipping inside.

Xue Songmei sat cross-legged on the snowy roof, a three-foot blade resting across her knees, eyes closed in meditation. Suddenly, she spoke to the distant sky, her tone cool and faint: “To what do I owe the pleasure of Master Zixuan’s visit at such a late hour?”

A chuckle echoed across the formerly silent heavens as Master Zixuan appeared in midair, two jugs of plum wine in hand.

“This is my century-old plum wine. The moon’s so beautiful tonight—why not share a drink? I know it’s your favorite,” she said, approaching the rooftop with an easy smile.

Watching from afar, Qin Yi almost wanted to applaud his master, if only the timing were not so precarious.

“I haven’t given up drinking, just plum wine in particular,” Xue Songmei replied in her usual flat tone, showing no sign of warmth.

“Look, a meteor shower!” Not deterred by her coldness, Master Zixuan suddenly pointed to the sky.

“Master, are you trying to fool a child?” Qin Yi sighed, mourning inwardly for a few moments.

But even the ever-icy Xue Songmei seemed about to smile at the silly jest. In the next instant, both Qin Yi and Xue Songmei’s expressions turned to astonishment. For before their eyes, a torrent of meteors streaked across the sky in a downpour of light, endless and magnificent.

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Xue Songmei stood frozen, gazing at the meteor shower. Memories of childhood surfaced—those carefree days when they would wait together on the rooftop for the meteors to appear.

Everyone on Mount Taiyi looked up at the night sky, mesmerized by the dazzling rain of meteors.

On one of the buildings atop Clear Void Peak, Master Lingxu watched the meteor shower and, after a long while, murmured, “It seems my junior’s cultivation has advanced again—where does that leave me, his senior?”

“Though he has not yet grasped the sun, moon, and stars in his palm, it is already remarkable.” On another building, Master Huanglong watched the sky in admiration. Beside him stood a youth—his newly accepted disciple at yesterday’s initiation, Wang Yuncheng, ninth young master of the Wang clan from East Ridge.

“Master, how does the Taiyi Azure Way compare to my family’s supreme art, the Great Luo Sutra?” Wang Yuncheng could not help but ask.

“The sun and moon shine together; each has its own limits,” Master Huanglong replied succinctly.

“Oh,” Wang Yuncheng responded, asking nothing further.

Qin Yi had no time to ponder how his master had accomplished this feat. He swallowed the Lightfoot Pellet and, nimble as a swallow, flew up to the balcony.

“Jiang Yao, it’s me, Qin Yi!” He ran to the door, knocking urgently, but no matter how he knocked, there was no response from within.

“Could she not be inside?” He wondered, but dismissed the thought immediately—if Jiang Yao were absent, why would Uncle-Master Xue be standing guard outside?

“Why is Uncle-Master Xue keeping watch?” The thought struck him with sudden dread: “Could it be that she’s guarding Jiang Yao herself?”

With this possibility in mind, Qin Yi threw his full weight against the door. Once was not enough—he was, after all, only twelve and not very strong. Fortunately, the door was free of wards or enchantments, so he kept at it until, after several tries, the door finally gave way.

But the moment it swung open, Qin Yi was left utterly stunned.