Chapter 50: The young master embraced her as she lay on him…

Chapter 50 The Young Master Embraces the Figure Curled Against Him...

Lunar New Year's Eve?

Xue Li stood rooted to the spot, gazing through the moonlight and tree shadows at the grave behind the trees.

Only after Lin Ye’s revelation did Xue Li finally understand: Yes, that time must have been Lunar New Year's Eve.

Back then, she felt no hunger, held no interest in people. She had randomly found a temple in the town that local beggars hadn't claimed, and slept there for days.

Occasionally, passersby mistook her for a beggar and tossed her some coins, which she couldn’t be bothered to buy food with. When someone threw her a handful of dry buns, Xue Li would eat them when bored.

What kind of time was that?

Lower than a pig's existence.

Even pigs know life and death, have senses—she felt nothing at all.

One day, sleeping in that temple, she was abruptly awakened by firecrackers exploding through the town.

Perhaps it was the drifting sparks in the air that kept her awake, or perhaps she was just too hungry. In any case, she wandered blankly into the town and saw rows of glowing house lights.

She walked alone through the snow, sitting outside someone's picket fence.

Amidst the celebratory lights, she vaguely overheard people saying things like “all will be forgiven” and “a fresh start for everything.”

Struggling against her usual distaste for worldly affairs, she shook off the snow clinging to her clothes and convinced herself to make her way up the mountain.

She nervously rehearsed how to apologize to her master.

Uncertain if she could change her fate.

What did she gain?

Across time, Xue Li met the gaze of her past self from half a year ago.

Her past self brushed snowflakes from her cheeks and continued up the mountain; present Xue Li, her wrist firmly held by Lin Ye, felt the night wind tousle the loose strands of hair framing her face.

As she stared at the grave, a flash of steel lunged from the shadows toward her.

Xue Li didn't move a muscle.

At the same time as her, Lin Ye turned his head, spotting the attack emerging from the darkness.

Lin Ye stepped forward, pulling her behind him, his black robes fluttering as he shielded her: "A Xue, be careful."

Xue Li's gaze remained fixed.

Her eyes reflected both moonlight and starlight, along with the young master's fluid movements.

His steps were light, like skimming across water, swiftly rising beside her, his scent wafting to her nostrils.

The youth defended himself barehanded, palms striking mid-air as he dodged.

When an enemy's curved blade swung toward him, Lin Ye dropped as if struck before rolling away. As another attack came from a different angle, he flipped upright, spinning fluidly. Each move flowed seamlessly, perfectly countering the assailants before him.

Under the bright moon, the young man's movements were sharp and elegant.

His black outer robe billowed, revealing glimpses of a white underlayer shimmering faintly. Wind-tossed hair intertwined with his flying hair ribbon, while forest leaves swirled around like waves, brushing past his deep, calm eyes.

At this very moment, bathed in moonlight with a murderous aura, he once again became a stranger Xue Li did not recognize.

Leaves shot toward his face, yet Xue Li watched calmly.

He never liked fighting.

The grievous wound he had suffered earlier might not have fully healed. Just two days ago in the inn, he had whined about the pain, bossing her around as she tended to him.

He knew full well that she could handle any threat with her skills.

Lin Ye, Lin Ye...

Xue Li stepped forward.

Her eyes were fixed solely on Lin Ye.

In the darkness, a sudden shout rang out: "Halt!"

Before Xue Li could even act, the assassins attacking them obediently retreated. Behind the dense shadows of trees, moonlight spilled as a middle-aged man in a black cloak stepped forward.

Meanwhile, Lin Ye withdrew to Xue Li’s side.

His qi was in turmoil, his blood roiling. The moment he staggered back, Xue Li reached out to steady him. As he stared in surprise, she sent a pulse of qi into his meridians, steadying his unstable energy.

Lin Ye looked at her.

Xue Li, however, turned her gaze to the cloaked man and the assassins following him.

The man pushed back his hood, revealing a somewhat oblong face.

His expression was complicated as he stared at Xue Li. "You. So you came to Nangong Mountain."

Xue Li asked, "Who are you?"

The man: "..."

Lin Ye suppressed a laugh behind her back.

He rubbed his nose, slightly smug: What could he say? Sometimes, he really couldn’t help but feel proud that A Xue remembered who he was.

Hearing her call him "Lin Ye" every day, more intimately than anyone else, made him secretly pleased.

Xue Li's bluntness did not anger the black-clad man.

Used to her ways, he answered succinctly: "You traveled from Huanchuan to Guangzhou and fought enemies at the Guangzhou ferry. While you were bowing to your master in the temple, I ambushed you, and you took me away."

Xue Li suddenly recalled: Oh right, that happened.

Xue Li: "So you wound up here."

The man sighed. "My job was always to escort the Tower Master back to Nangong Mountain, so of course I’d be here. Back then, I told you to seek the Wind Master to clear up what's troubling you. Did you not go?"

Xue Li thought for a moment. "I'm getting to it."

She nodded toward the handsome youth beside her. "He's my help."

Lin Ye blinked: He knew neither that Xue Li was looking for the Wind Master nor that he was supposedly helping her do so. He suspected she had long forgotten the matter and was now making it up on the spot.

Lin Ye gave the black-clad man a dazzling smile.

His eyes crinkled with a smile, his handsome and charming features complemented by an upright posture and exceptional footwork.

The black-clad man glanced at the young man’s slightly unusual stance, noting how he was shielding the Snow Girl behind him. He couldn’t help but pause; something felt off.

The black-clad man forced himself not to ask or look further.

In these troubled times, "Qin Yueye" already had its hands full. He had no desire to get tangled up with the affairs of the Snow Girl.

With a quick look at Xue Li, he remarked, "Word is about what you pulled in Xiangzhou. You killed Dong Jun... Chun Jun’s pissed."

Xue Li replied, "When isn’t Chun Jun pissed?"

The black-clad man: "..."

He couldn’t even argue.

Sighing, he said, "Listen up, be careful. Word is Chun Jun has recalled Lord Summer to deal with you. Among the Four Seasons Envoys, Lord Summer is the killer... You might not walk away."

Xue Li nodded.

She asked, "I drew off most of your crew. Did you guess I was heading up the mountain and intercepted me here?"

The black-clad man replied, "The diversion at the foot made me suspect someone was trying to draw us away. So I played along, sending men down to fake chasing the decoy, then took a secluded path up the back of the mountain... You likely didn’t notice our position."

Xue Li asked, "We throwing down?"

The black-clad man’s lips twitched.

Irritated, he retorted, "Throwing down? You killed Dong Jun with no mercy for old ties. What chance do we have against you?"

Xue Li said, "Not necessarily. I’m still banged up. If we fight, you might—"

Lin Ye immediately covered her mouth, cutting her off.

He shot the stranger a grin. "Ah, our A Xue just loves joking around, haha! You stand-up guys are all honorable warriors, old friends of A Xue’s—surely you wouldn’t jump her all at once, right?"

The black-clad man: "..."

He gave the kid talking nonsense a strange look, still unable to discern his identity.

The black-clad man only said, "If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t allow it. But you... Visiting your master—what’s wrong with that? You must be investigating the mystery of Master Yulong’s death. I won’t disturb you. Southern Zhou isn’t too welcoming of us, but thankfully, the Wind Master summoned us by letter, so I came down... Wait—was that letter truly written by the Wind Master? Or was it a setup to pull us off the mountain?"

Xue Li’s mouth was still covered by Lin Ye.

Meanwhile, Lin Ye widened his eyes and lied straight-faced, "Of course it was written by the Wind Master himself! With 'Qin Yueye' headless, the Wind Master wants to take the crown. Shouldn’t you hurry to support him? Any later, and Chun Jun might seize power."

Lin Ye spoke with grave sincerity. "Listen up, brothers—who takes the throne matters less than not backing the wrong side."

The assassins: "..."

Though the black-clad man thought he was talking nonsense, the kid’s guesses about "Qin Yueye’s" current state were eerily accurate.

The journey to Southern Zhou left a bad taste in his mouth:

Master Yulong was dead, the Snow Girl had defected, Dong Jun had fallen to her blade, and the assassins in the marriage escort had lost contact.

Not a single task assigned by Emperor Xuanming to "Qin Yueye" had been accomplished.

Would "Qin Yueye" even have a future?

With these thoughts, the man in black couldn't shake a sense of desolation.

He led his men down the mountain, heading into a future even he couldn't see.

His only conviction was the hope that Snow Girl could uncover the truth behind Master Yulong's death. He had no idea that Xue Li and Lin Ye had come up the mountain intending to dig up the remains of the leader he revered most.

Before descending, the man in black suddenly remembered something and asked Xue Li, "Do you know why 'Qin Yueye' is called that? We're just an assassin guild—why did we get entangled in court affairs, caught in the middle?"

Xue Li searched through her distant, hazy memories for a moment.

Finally, she recalled and answered him, "When Master founded the assassin organization, the inspiration for the name likely came from the line of poetry, 'The Qin moon, the Han frontier pass.' But I don’t know why Master chose this line to name it."

His curiosity satisfied, the man in black silently led his men down the mountain.

*The Qin moon, the Han frontier pass…*

*But the warrior marches on, never to return…*

Lin Ye stood behind Xue Li, lowering his gaze in thought: *Strange, why specifically this poem for a name? This verse speaks of soldiers longing for home, a lament for lost times.*

*Why would Master Yulong choose such a name?*

Xue Li turned to look at Lin Ye.

Lin Ye put on his most innocent look: "What? Am I offending you by thinking about the name of your 'Qin Yueye'? You're not even with the guild anymore."

Xue Li glanced at Lin Ye’s empty hands and said, "I just remembered—where’s our shovel?"

Lin Ye: "..."

He gasped: "I just remembered—I forgot it."

Xue Li: "..."

Lin Ye pleaded: "I left it on the roof of that magistrate's office. What do we do?"

--

Xue Li: "...Kill yourself as apology."

Of course, the demand for his life was a joke.

The next day, when the officials extinguished the fire and climbed onto the roof to search for traces of the troublemaking youth, they would find two shovels. They would puzzle endlessly over their purpose.

Tonight, Lin Ye grudgingly used Snow Inquiry and began digging.

He felt sorry for the poor dagger in his heart.

It was just a little fruit knife, forced to do jobs way beyond its purpose: used by Xue Li to kill, and now by him to dig up a grave.

As Lin Ye dug, Xue Li stood watching.

Lin Ye kept sneaking glances at her, hoping she'd change her mind halfway through, hoping she would realize digging up her master’s grave was wrong, hoping she would take pity on him and not make him spill his blood to bring back a dead man… Lin Ye didn’t even know if he should hope Master Yulong was truly dead.

As he pondered, he heard Xue Li speak: "Why did you save me?"

Lin Ye focused on digging: "Huh?"

Xue Li: "Back there. Why did you step in front of me? You should know I could handle those people easily."

Lin Ye said casually, "It was a reflex." Xue Li pursed her lips.

A pale green hair ribbon tied back his dark hair, both draped over his black robes. His white underrobe was half-buried in the earth. Xue Li sat under a nearby tree, studying his downturned face and the faint trembling of his eyelashes.

His lashes were so light that even the gentlest breeze made them quiver.

Lin Ye's hair strands fell onto his face and shoulders, hindering his digging progress. He paused to adjust them, catching Xue Li's unwavering gaze from the corner of his eye.

Lin Ye looked away, feigning distraction. "It's nothing. I just thought... you must have been really sad back then."

He fell silent for a moment before murmuring softly, "I didn’t want anyone to bully you when you were grieving."

He lifted his face, flashing a carefree smile. "It wasn’t even a real fight, anyway. Those guys weren’t serious—their leader stopped them quickly. I barely used any qi. I’m fine."

As he spoke, he coughed.

Blood dripped into his palm.

Lin Ye immediately hid his hand behind his back, wiping it off in annoyance.

Xue Li’s chest tightened.

Lin Ye gave her a nonchalant grin, his eyes shining like polished crystal. He didn’t want her to see him like this, but he also knew that digging up a coffin with just “Snow Inquiry” would take ages.

Lin Ye offered casually, "A Xue, why don’t you take a nap? By the time you wake up, I’ll be done."

Xue Li hesitated before shaking her head.

Softly, she said, "You’re hurt. I should watch over you."

Had Lin Ye not insisted that digging her master’s grave himself was wrong, she wouldn’t have let him do the work at all.

Lin Ye put on an irritated act. "What nonsense? I’m young and strong—how am I hurt? I’m perfectly fine. You—go to sleep. That’s an order. Or have you forgotten how much of a stubborn pain I can be since leaving Xiangzhou?"

Xue Li said nothing.

She didn’t fully grasp Lin Ye’s kindness—she just automatically deferred to him.

Sitting beneath the tree, she closed her eyes, her sharp ears still catching the steady thunk of his digging.

She thought she wouldn’t fall asleep.

Yet, for some reason, as the boy’s dagger and the dirt clashed repeatedly, she actually dozed off.

--

And so, she entered the dream once more.

When Xue Li opened her eyes in the dream, she stiffened.

She was accustomed to endless snowfall in her dreams, endless mountain fog, and bone-chilling cold.

She was used to the dream’s biting chill, to her master’s unreachable presence.

But this time, for the first time, Xue Li saw lush greenery in her dream—an everlasting spring.

No snow—just wind and sunlight, flowers and grass.

Xue Li gazed in wonder at the unfamiliar scenery in her dream until someone called her: "Xue Li."

Her own childlike voice answered, "Coming."

She lifted her skirt and ran, crushing grass underfoot as she headed toward the direction of the voice.

As she passed by the lake, Xue Li glanced at her reflection: the girl in her reflection had rosy cheeks and jade-like features, her hair buns swaying as she ran. Her face was plump with baby fat, her eyes clear and slightly round.

She had not yet developed the almond-shaped eyes she would have later—her face was full of childish innocence, looking no older than four or five.

Xue Li ran forward, where willow branches swayed gently, and a figure in green robes stood with an older child.

Of course, the one in green was her master, while the boy appeared to be around ten years old. Xue Li stared at the child in the dream, drinking in every detail with slow nostalgia.

The newcomer was youthful, his eyes shadowed with gloom. The boy bristled like a hedgehog, standing close to the green-robed figure, eyeing the approaching little girl with caution.

This... this was none other than young Song Wanfeng.

Xue Li heard Yu Long tell her, “From now on, this newcomer will train in martial arts like you. Since you entered earlier, don’t pick on him.”

Xue Li heard her own childish voice respond.

It struck her now: this was Nangong Mountain, not their future snowy home.

This segment of the dream was from the time Yu Long had brought a child back from the foot of the mountain.

In Yu Long’s younger days, he had lived on Nangong Mountain for a long time with Xue Li and Song Wanfeng.

Yu Long had raised Xue Li from infancy, while Song Wanfeng was the latecomer.

When they grew older, Song Wanfeng often joked, “Master always liked you best!”

The “Heartless Art” was a lifelong regret for Song Wanfeng.

Song Wanfeng had practiced the “Heartless Art” for a while, but Xue Li never learned why Yu Long suddenly stopped him from further study.

At this time, both Jinzhou and Nangong Mountain were under Northern Zhou control.

Later, General of the Shining Night would reclaim Jinzhou at the age of fourteen, making Nangong Mountain part of Southern Zhou.

Nangong Mountain was Yu Long’s homeland. From then on, Northern Zhou assassins who wished to send Yu Long’s spirit back to his roots had to negotiate with Southern Zhou—which made them bitterly resent the general.

But in this dream, Northern Zhou people could still freely come and go from Nangong Mountain.

Xue Li lived on Nangong Mountain until she was eight, while Song Wanfeng had stayed there for three years. Though Song Wanfeng was five years older than Xue Li, he had joined them later. Despite Song Wanfeng insisting on calling Xue Li “Junior Sister,” neither Yu Long nor Xue Li ever acknowledged it. Later, they followed Yu Long and moved to the snowy mountains. It was only after settling there that Yu Long began establishing Qin Yueye.

Qin Yueye thrived for ten years, striking fear across the martial world and becoming a hidden blade for Emperor Xuanming of Northern Zhou—until Yu Long’s death.

Looking back now, the time Yu Long spent with the two children on Nangong Mountain was their most carefree period.

During their stay on Nangong Mountain, Xue Li began learning the “Heartless Art,” and her emotions began dulling.

Perhaps many things had happened back then—perhaps there had been arguments—but now, Xue Li could only vaguely recall Yu Long always sitting at the mountain peak, gazing into the misty clouds, as if searching beyond the clouds.

The young Xue Li in the dream was still warm and clingy, not yet the ice-hearted woman she’d become.

She often nestled close to Yu Long, always running to find him.

She once asked, “Can I go down the mountain to play?”

Yu Long replied, “The foot of the mountain is a battlefield between Northern Zhou and Southern Zhou. Stay where I can see you.”

Some time later, Xue Li ran to ask again, “They say I’m your daughter—is that true?”

Yu Long stood before the mountain peak, his silhouette hazy and indistinct, shrouded in a wispy mountain haze: "Did the hunters who came up the mountain say that? I found you—I couldn’t have a child your age."

Xue Li seemed to half-understand, while Song Wanfeng, who had joined them midway, had grown accustomed to life in the mountains. He stepped forward to guide his mischievous junior sister: "Master, I’ll take her to meditate. I won’t disturb you."

During the New Year, the master and disciples shared a meal under a half-withered willow tree.

Yu Long remained aloof, and Xue Li, raised by him, was just as unworldly. Neither had any notion of "festivity," but the newly arrived Song Wanfeng, full of down-to-earth cheer, brought the customs of the world below to Nan Gong Mountain.

Awkwardly, Song Wanfeng tried to please his indifferent master and his innocent yet fierce little sister.

The ten-year-old child prepared a table of dishes in the kitchen and, on New Year’s Eve, blushing, mumbled his thanks to Yu Long for taking him in.

Then, on his own initiative, he glanced at the little girl propping her chin on her hands beside him and shyly added, "I’ll take care of my junior sister too."

Little Xue Li, like waking from a daze, secretly sipped from Yu Long’s wine cup and flinched at the burn.

Yu Long turned his gaze toward her, and Xue Li sat up obediently: "If no one saw, it’s not stealing."

Song Wanfeng laughed at her.

When it was time to eat, Song Wanfeng stopped her and said, "We have to make a wish first."

So they made their wishes.

The mountainside glittered with countless lanterns, fireworks lighting up the world below before rising into the heavens. Amidst the sky ablaze with color, the dazzling sparks from the homes of the common folk lit up their faces.

Five-year-old Xue Li clasped her hands together and earnestly wished: "I wish to stay with Master and Song Wanfeng forever and ever."

Song Wanfeng made the same wish: "I wish to never be separated from Master and my junior sister."

Yu Long watched them silently.

Xue Li peeked one eye open to look at her master.

Song Wanfeng urged in a whisper, "Master, you should make a wish too."

"Bang—"

The fireworks and firecrackers from below were too loud, drowned out whatever Yu Long said. The kids huddled together to watch the spectacle in the sky, chattering excitedly about the festivities.

--

"Clang—"

The sound of a dagger striking something hard, a dull thud, jolted Xue Li from her dream.

Lin Ye knelt by the grave, and by the time she awoke, piles of dirt had piled up beside him. Sensing she was awake, he called without turning, "A Xue."

They’d dug down to the coffin.

The sun had risen.

Its light fell upon the willow tree beside the grave. The evergreen willow, its leaves swaying like a woman’s hair, made Xue Li look up—and in that instant, she remembered something.

The year she and Song Wanfeng left Nan Gong Mountain with Yu Long, he had taught her to kill for the first time.

Back then, Xue Li had been far too young. The trap used by one of Xiangzhou’s True Winter Lords before his death was one she rarely used later, but in her childhood, she had employed it.

Xue Li had learned it from Yu Long in her youth.

When she left Nan Gong Mountain, she’d laid an elaborate trap.

After all these years, she had almost forgotten. But now—

A gust of wind rose, shaking the fir trees lower on the hillside. Silver flashes flickered among the leaves, interlacing with the blazing sunlight, thick as clouds, indistinguishable from reality.

Lin Ye stretched lazily and yawned, turning to look at her.

The girl's newly awakened eyes were sharp and clear. In an instant, her body darted forward as she lashed out with a palm strike toward him.

The killing intent in that strike sent chills through Lin Ye's body, sparking the thought—*She wants to kill me.*

Yet he refused to believe it.

He watched helplessly as her palm strike came at him, then closed his eyes, expecting death—when suddenly Xue Li tackled him.

They rolled across the ground. Behind them, a deafening crackle erupted, sending sparks flying—the coffin lid Lin Ye had exposed at the edge of the pit was flung outward like a massive door, blocking the hidden weapons.

Bewildered, Lin Ye opened his eyes as Xue Li grabbed him and leaped up.

She used her palm technique to send the coffin flying, using it as a shield against the weapons coming from some unseen direction. The ground beneath them was densely studded with needle-sharp spikes, leaving nowhere safe to stand. Xue Li climbed up the tree trunk.

She didn't remember all the traps she had set as a child, but back then, she had been small—none of the mechanisms would be placed high.

Only by moving upward could they escape.

A sharp spike grazed Xue Li’s shoulder, and she faltered at the long-forgotten sting of pain. Lin Ye abruptly wrapped an arm around her waist, whirling to dodge another weapon. He plucked a leaf and sent it flying like a dagger, cutting through part of the mechanism.

Snapping back to attention, Xue Li pulled Lin Ye down onto a sturdy branch within the willow tree.

Lin Ye leaned against the trunk, while she lay sprawled across him. Xue Li looked down; Lin Ye tilted his head—both of them gazed below—

The coffin lid had been thrown aside. The coffin was open.

--

The corpse inside had been dead for half a year, yet its complexion remained vivid, as if still alive. No decay, no stench.

But what made Lin Ye’s pupils dilate in shock was the face—

Plain features, refined brows. Hands folded peacefully over the chest, eyes closed in serenity.

Yet no matter how serene, no matter how lifelike the corpse appeared, Lin Ye stared blankly at Xue Li lying atop him—

*"Master Yulong is a woman?!"*

Morning sunlight and a warm breeze filtered through the dappled willow leaves.

The dense foliage rustled, the thick branches cradling them both. Xue Li looked down at the corpse; Lin Ye gazed up at her.

Fantasy.

He had followed her here to dig up a grave, prepared to see the decayed remains of an old man. He had expected bleached bones, hoping to convince himself that beauty fades, that time withers all, that even the fairest flesh must rot.

He should not have let improper thoughts take root—

But here, there were no bones.

The master’s body had not decomposed. The master was not the man he had imagined.

Amid the morning foliage, the young man held the girl lying against him.

His heart pounded wildly, his fantasies growing like vines. His self-admonitions scattered in the wind—

Was fate giving him a sign?

Was fate—protecting his fantasy?

As Lin Ye lost himself in tangled thoughts, gazing at Xue Li in wonder, he heard her quiet, detached voice: "This isn’t my master."