The alliance headquarters looked like a ruin. Half the buildings had collapsed, and the scorched marks on the remnants were blacker than ink.
Feng Yun’ai gazed out into the distance. In those hazy gray shadows, she saw the desolation of a city.
The glorious scene Feng Rong had left behind had been destroyed in an instant. If Feng Rong knew in the afterlife, one wondered how much grief she would feel.
“Young lady!” Someone in the distance recognized them and came running over in a hurry, shouting joyfully, “You’re alive! This is truly wonderful!”
The speaker’s gaze shifted, landing on Feng Yun’ai’s face. Seeing that her black eyes remained unchanged, he continued, “It’s all thanks to you two. Otherwise, the Central Plains martial arts world would have been destroyed by that Guiyuan Sect!”
“Guiyuan? They certainly have a grand name,” Sang Chencao sneered. She looked past the man. “Who is in charge here now?”
The warrior looked toward the Council Hall and replied, “The leaders and elders of the major sects have already headed to the border. Currently, Cloud City is being managed by Sect Leader Sui of Qiushui Pavilion.”
Feng Yun’ai said softly, “I wish to go up Listening Goose Peak. Please grant us passage.”
Only then did the surrounding crowd notice someone was on her back. With just a glance, they could see half of Feng Rong’s face, which hadn’t yet been covered by the foliage.
“A-Alliance Leader Feng…” Everyone was shocked.
Everyone had assumed that during the raging fires and the collapse of the buildings, Feng Rong’s body had been cremated along with them.
“Go call Sect Leader Sui!” someone shouted.
A young girl hurriedly used her lightness skill, stumbling toward the Council Hall.
The remaining people asked hesitantly, “We still do not know how to address you two.”
Earlier names like Cilantro and Zhe Er Gen were obviously aliases; they couldn’t be taken seriously.
Sang Chencao was candid. She didn’t hide the Solitary Gall in her hand, letting it rest at her side. “The surname is Sang.”
The questioner still remembered this woman’s words at the Sword-Seeking Podium. He stammered, “I wonder how Wen Lanxin is faring…”
“She’s dead.” Sang Chencao pronounced Wen Lanxin’s fate without even needing to confirm it with her own eyes.
Feng Yun’ai was momentarily stunned, but then she thought that whether Wen Lanxin was alive or dead, Sang Chencao had essentially settled the matter for her.
The crowd was shocked once more. Seeing that Sang Chencao didn’t look like she was joking, they were half-convinced. They hadn’t expected Wen Lanxin to be dead as well.
Dead? When did she die?
But since the person had passed, there was no need to dwell on the past.
“And how should we address this young lady?”
Feng Yun’ai’s eyes shifted slightly. She could vaguely see the corpse resting on her back. “I share the same surname as Feng Rong.”
“Do you know the Lonely Heart Mantra?” someone ventured to ask, failing to notice the woman’s eye ailment.
“My Master taught it to me personally.” Feng Yun’ai’s gaze narrowed. Her face showed neither grief nor joy; she looked as cold as frost.
That one title, ‘Master,’ explained their entire relationship.
The heavy mist atop Listening Goose Peak was swept away by a strong wind, faintly revealing its true face.
Feng Rong really had taken a disciple and raised her on Listening Goose Peak. She had raised her so well—in many ways exactly like Feng Rong, yet in many ways entirely different.
She seemed detached from the world, yet she had entered it. She wasn’t truly as cold and distant as Feng Rong; she was simply pure, as if she had cast off worldly matters and was ignorant of human entanglements.
No one knew why Feng Rong had done it. For over a decade, no one else had visited the peak besides the master and disciple. Perhaps it was simply because Feng Rong didn’t enjoy being close to others, so she wished for her beloved disciple to be the same.
A moment later, Sui Jianxue arrived in a panic. There were burn marks on the side of her neck, with scabs spreading down beneath her collar; her injuries appeared severe.
Her face was sickly pale. When she saw Feng Yun’ai, her gaze froze in disbelief.
She had seen the fire engulf Feng Yun’ai with her own eyes. To her shock, the girl had returned… seemingly unscathed.
For a moment, Sui Jianxue mistook the fire for a dream, but the pain in her body snapped her back to reality.
“Sect Leader Sui,” Sang Chencao said.
Sui Jianxue remembered Wen Lanxin’s mastery of medicine and poison. Knowing this woman was Wen Lanxin’s disciple, she assumed she possessed miraculous healing powers, which was how she had brought the other back in one piece.
She had no heart to seek medical treatment for herself right now. The moment she saw the person on Feng Yun’ai’s back, her eye veil was instantly soaked with tears.
Feng Yun’ai said calmly, “I want to bury Master on Listening Goose Peak.”
“I was thinking the same,” Sui Jianxue nodded through her tears, her voice trembling. “That day, I also entered the water. I didn’t expect there to be so many waterways, and I lost you in an instant. Fortunately, I was swept out to the river surface. I wanted to turn back to find you two, but the vortex had vanished.”
“There is a separate world within that waterway. We were trapped inside,” Sang Chencao admitted frankly.
Sui Jianxue managed a weak smile and wiped her tears. “I waited for several days without finding you. I thought you had found a way out and simply left. I decided to prepare a casket, intending to establish a cenotaph for Feng Rong on Listening Goose Peak. I didn’t expect that before the cenotaph could be built, you would return.”
She turned and whispered a few words to her little maid, then continued, “Currently, the major sects have gathered at Cold Cicada Ridge beyond the border. However, the Guiyuan Sect is located on Snow-Top Peak. The mountain is high and steep; climbing it is no easy feat. The Sect Leader of Guiyuan has yet to show his face. We only know his skills are formidable. With a Sorrowful Wind Fan in hand, he keeps everyone from coming even a step closer.”
“Sorrowful Wind Fan?” Sang Chencao let out a disdainful snort. “Never heard of it.”
“Lin Yaoyao was captured during her journey west. She preferred to burn herself alive rather than reveal everything to save her life.” Sui Jianxue shook her head. “Before she died, she said herself that the Guiyuan Sect Leader’s Sorrowful Wind Fan is peerless. It can fan a person’s life-fire into a blaze, or extinguish it in a single breath. Life and death are decided in a single thought.”
Feng Yun’ai thought to herself that Lin Yaoyao must have been hallucinating. If he were that powerful, wouldn’t he be a Living Yama?
Her eyes remained calm, her heart as still as water. “Once Master is buried, I will go to Snow-Top Peak to meet this Sorrowful Wind Fan.”
Sui Jianxue immediately raised her hands. In them was a sword.
The scabbard shone with a silver light, simple and elegant. It looked unremarkable, yet it was like an icicle piercing directly into Feng Yun’ai’s vision.
“Your Master’s Lonely Heart,” Sui Jianxue said.
