Feng Yun’ai followed behind. She watched as Feng Rong pushed open the door to retrieve a sword.
The sword hung on the wall. To reach it, Feng Rong had to exert the last of her strength.
It was a sword Feng Yun’ai had never touched. It had never even been unsheathed in her presence. The scabbard was dark and intricate, so eerie that it seemed it shouldn’t exist in this world.
Feng Rong took the sword. Her gaze traveled slowly from the hilt to the tip, her eyes filled with a profound sorrow and longing.
“Master?” Feng Yun’ai whispered.
Feng Rong looked away from the sword and turned to her. “I never allowed you to show your face,” she rasped. “Do you resent me?”
She asked with such earnestness—more earnest than she had ever been when teaching the sword.
Even Feng Yun’ai’s hands at her sides were trembling. She shook her head. “I don’t. To be able to learn the sword on Listening Goose Peak is the greatest honor of Little Yun’s life.”
Feng Rong lowered her eyes and smiled. It was the first time she had ever smiled in front of Feng Yun’ai, but it was a smile full of bitterness. She swallowed a mouthful of blood and continued, “You once asked about your parentage, but I never told you. Do you resent me for that?”
“I don’t,” Feng Yun’ai shook her head again. “If Master wanted to tell me, she would have.”
“The more obedient and sensible you are, the more I cannot bear it.” Blood began to seep steadily from the corners of Feng Rong’s mouth. Her snow-white dress was turning almost entirely red.
“Master, why do you say that?” Feng Yun’ai felt a growing sense of dread.
Feng Rong gave a helpless, bitter laugh. “Good child… I actually hoped you would resent me.”
“Why?” Feng Yun’ai’s heart hammered against her ribs.
Feng Rong leaned forward, her blood-stained hand touching Feng Yun’ai’s eyelid. Her voice trembled. “Do you know why there are no mirrors on Listening Goose Peak?”
Feng Yun’ai remained silent.
Feng Rong looked deeply into those grey eyes. Her longing shifted from the sword to the girl before her. Then, her voice turned cold. “The reason isn’t complicated. However, before I explain, I need you to promise me one thing.”
“Anything, Master,” Feng Yun’ai replied without hesitation.
In all their years on the peak, Feng Rong had never asked her for anything. Though they were close, there had always been a distance between them.
Feng Rong spoke each word deliberately. “Do one thing for me. It is the first thing I ask, and the last.”
The words were so final, sounding as if their bond would be severed forever once the task was done.
Feng Yun’ai felt as if a piece of her chest had been carved out. Her heart was racing so fast it felt like it would leap from her throat. After a long silence, she said, “I promise. Please tell me, Master.”
“In truth, you are the child of the demonic lord from the Borderlands, Yin Wulu. Your birth name is Yin Xiuxiu,” Feng Rong said slowly. “I killed Yin Wulu with my own hands. His grave is at the summit of Mount Eguang. It was I who brought you here to Listening Goose Peak.”
There were many books on the peak, including the Records of the Martial World. The name Yin Wulu was in there.
He had been a man of extreme brutality. His most striking feature was a pair of rare grey eyes.
Such grey eyes were rare even in the lands beyond the borders.
Feng Yun’ai felt a chill wash over her whole body. Her eyes went wide.
How? How could this be?
Feng Rong’s expression became very still. Having revealed the truth, the breath she had been holding seemed to dissipate like smoke.
Feng Yun’ai didn’t have time to process the revelation. She desperately wanted to catch that fading breath. “Master, what do you want me to do?”
The woman in the blood-stained white dress suddenly moved closer. She gripped Feng Yun’ai’s wrist tightly and thrust the cold weight of the sword, Solitary Gall, into her hands.
“Only you can do this,” Feng Rong said coldly.
“Wh-why?” Feng Yun’ai’s palm was so cold she lost sensation, yet she gripped the sword with all her strength.
“Leave Listening Goose Peak. Let no one know of our relationship, and let no one see your eyes, or you will find no path forward in this world. Take this sword to Yellow Sand Cliff and find Wen Lanxin. I have been poisoned. You must discover where the poison came from.” Feng Rong was on the verge of death, her eyes shot through with blood.
“But the Seal-the-Mountain Formation…” Feng Yun’ai asked frantically.
“The formation has been broken. You must leave at once,” Feng Rong commanded. “Do you hear me?”
“I hear you.” Feng Yun’ai’s vision felt as though it were clouded by mist, though she didn’t understand why. “Little Yun… is willing to share Master’s burdens.”
“If this is not settled, the martial world will descend into a sea of blood.” Feng Rong exhausted her very last breath.
Feng Yun’ai watched as the woman before her slumped down. she rushed to support her. It was only when her cheeks felt wet that she realized her vision was blurry because she was crying.
“Go! Leave Listening Goose Peak!” Feng Rong suddenly shoved Feng Yun’ai away. She lay on the ground, gasping for air, her eyes fixed on the girl as she urged her to flee.
Her expression was one of absolute resolve.
A damp, freezing cold—a cold that felt like it was cracking her bones—wrapped itself around Feng Yun’ai. she could neither move forward nor retreat.
Feng Yun’ai didn’t understand life and death, but in that moment, she felt with terrifying certainty that she and Feng Rong were now separated by that very veil.
Knocked back to a sitting position, she realized her face was covered in tears. Clutched her sword tightly to her chest, she finally turned and ran from the wooden hut.
But she had waited too long. The sound of hurried footsteps was already approaching.
With no other choice, Feng Yun’ai hid in the shadows. She watched as a woman in a green robe led a group onto the peak, her voice rising in a shrill cry inside the hut.
“Alliance Leader! Alliance Leader—!”
“She’s… she’s dead?”
“It’s poison. There are needle wounds on her body.”
“The Soul-Shattering Needle, Wen Lanxin! It must be her!”
While the group searched elsewhere, Feng Yun’ai fled down the mountain. She clutched the sword, thinking: Feng Rong told her to go to Yellow Sand Cliff. Did she already know that Wen Lanxin was the one who poisoned her?
The cliffs of Listening Goose Peak were jagged and steep. As she threw herself down the mountainside, the biting wind wiped away her tears.
Feng Yun’ai had rushed all the way to Yellow Sand Cliff. It took many agonizing nights before she was forced to accept the reality that Feng Rong was gone.
The night in Zhuyu Town was silent, save for the occasional bark of a dog.
Feng Yun’ai sat motionless, gripping her sword. Moonlight streamed through the window, bathing her pale face and making her look cold yet fragile.
A voice spoke from behind her. “Xiuxiu, that was a very moving story.”
