Chapter 54: Tales of Little Winter's Past (Part Two)

In an instant, Xu Wan channeled the last remnants of her spiritual power into an all-out assault. A flurry of blossoms filled the air, carrying a mournful and resolute will as they surged toward Chen Ying.

Yet Chen Ying was quick to react. His twin swords moved in a continuous dance, much like dragons plunging into water, weaving through the dense, cascading sea of petals. The sword light flashed, cold, fierce, and dazzling.

The battle raged on for an unknown length of time. Ultimately, Xu Wan's stamina was exhausted, and she could no longer support her own weight, collapsing heavily to the ground.

"Thud..."

The blade-like storm of flowers she had conjured dissipated accordingly. Those floral leaves and blades of grass, once sharp as mortal weapons, now lost all their keenness and lethality, drifting lazily downward in the air with an air of absolute powerlessness.

Chen Ying freed himself from the offensive momentum. Countless slits had been torn into his robes, and through the mottled rips, faint traces of blood oozed out—he too had clearly sustained injuries.

His expression was somewhat gloomy, for his two most treasured swords were now marred by countless pitted scratches, akin to flawless jade tarnished by dust. Shock was evident in his tone as he muttered, "Awan, I truly underestimated you. To think that mere blades of grass and wood could damage these blades forged from mysterious crystal iron."

Xu Wan's expression remained cold and indifferent, uttering not a word.

Seeing this, Chen Ying let out a cold snort. "You almost tricked me! If that foolish ghost tiger hadn't been lured away by me, you might actually have managed to return to Qingshi Town alive and expose my true face."

A vicious glint flashed in his eyes. "And if Yue Dong were to find out about everything, it would become quite troublesome."

Knowing her time of death was at hand, Xu Wan simply gazed at her former companion quietly. Her spiritual energy was depleted, and her wounds had torn open once more. Hearing Chen Ying's words, a cold smile tugged at the corner of her lips—a smile laden with boundless mockery and disdain. "What does this have to do with Yue Dong? Having someone like you as a captain is truly the greatest disgrace of a lifetime."

Chen Ying narrowed his eyes, a surge of anger seemingly rising within him. He sneered, "What's wrong with someone like me? Being able to lead you all on missions within Mingshan and secure cultivation resources together is already an supreme grace. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?"

"It doesn't matter. Once you are dead, none of this ever happened. I remain the captain of the squad, and the only thing lost is an insignificant wood-attribute female cultivator."

Accompanied by these words, Chen Ying slowly approached Xu Wan, the blades in his hands gleaming with a bone-chilling murderous intent.

Xu Wan gently closed her eyes.

And never opened them again.

……

At this very moment, Yue Dong stood right between the two of them. His eyes were downcast, trembling slightly. He watched with a completely expressionless face as Chen Ying slew Xu Wan, and then step by step dragged her lifeless body to the edge of a nearby precipice, casting it down without hesitation.

"Thud..."

After a very, very long time, as Yue Dong stood frozen in place, he caught the faint, distant echo of an impact.

Chen Ying wore a look of triumphant self-satisfaction as he strode away carefreed.

Only Yue Dong remained standing at the cliff's edge, utterly motionless, while tumultuous waves crashed within his heart.

So... before Chen Ying died in the future, he had never spoken the truth to him, perhaps fearing an even more terrifying vengeance. Chen Ying had woven a complete falsehood, and looking back now, it only filled him with utter nausea.

So Awan had truly fought desperately for her survival to the very end.

No wonder he had later gone completely mad, slaying the ghost tiger at all costs and tearing the Ghost-Branch Lotus Pond apart, only to find countless skeletal remains without ever locating the one person he searched for.

So... this was the truth.

……

"Where did a little brat like you come from, and how did you manage to get yourself so filthy?"

"Your name is wonderful—past the winter, comes the warmth of spring..."

"I don't care about thorny briars and blood; as long as you return safely, it's enough..."

"Since it's little Dong's heartfelt gesture, Big Sister will look forward to it then..."

……

Those familiar voices, now slowly receding into the distance, echoed in Yue Dong's ears. He stood there for who knows how long, until the Mist Mirror Spirit itself began to ponder whether it should bring this illusion to an end. Suddenly, he spoke, his voice calm and profound, "Have you seen enough?"

The Mirror Spirit was utterly bewildered, having no idea what the youth was talking about.

Yue Dong remained expressionless, his voice indifferent as he stated, "Mist Mirror Spirit, I asked, have you seen enough yet?"

Only then did the Mirror Spirit realize that the other party had been aware of its presence all along. It slowly rose to its feet and solemnly replied with a single word: "Yes."

A prolonged silence hung heavily in the air.

The Mirror Spirit was filled with hesitation, unsure whether it should dissolve the illusion, allow the white mists to surge back, and let darkness reclaim the space.

Yue Dong broke the awkward silence. His words were somewhat peculiar, sounding nothing like a heartbroken soul who had just learned a cruel truth. "Thank you," he said, "for letting me know the whole truth."

A wave of bizarre silence washed over the Mirror Spirit—it had no idea how to respond to the fact that the youth was actually thanking it.

Yue Dong asked briskly, "Then my trial is over, isn't it?"

Stumbling slightly, the Mirror Spirit answered, "Cons—considered over."

"May I leave now?"

"Uh... you may."

The Mirror Spirit withdrew the misty realm, transporting him directly to the foot of the mountain.

Yue Dong offered a slight nod of acknowledgment and turned to leave. His solitary figure along the winding mountain path appeared exceptionally desolate and forlorn, yet entirely devoid of lifeless despair.

……

Transforming into a young girl clad in black, the Mirror Spirit scratched its head, its youthful face etched with profound perplexity—it could not quite comprehend human emotions and why they had to be so agonizingly complex.

Yet this male cultivator was clearly no vicious or wicked soul, which meant he was worthy of its misty purple radiance. It glanced sideways at the dozen or so fragments floating upon the mirror's surface, where others within the illusion were still locked in bitter struggle—Yue Dong was the first to break through the realm.

Massaging its temples, the girl pondered for a brief moment, then bestowed upon him the most brilliant and dazzling purple glow of light.

She shook her head vigorously—human affairs were too baffling; she would leave such headaches to the elders.

……

Yue Dong walked down the mountain path, his expression serene to the point of apathy. He had not laid eyes upon the black mirror at the summit, nor had he witnessed the true form of the Mist Mirror Spirit; by the time he emerged from the illusion, he was already halfway down the mountain.

His face was a blank slate, and in truth, his mind was equally blank.

Upon reaching the foot of the mountain, he crossed his legs and sat down on the ground, paying no heed to the brilliant radiance suddenly emanating from his body—as if the array-master cultivation and direct discipleship he had once dreamed of were hardly matters worth celebrating.

He slowly closed his eyes, shutting out the entire world.

How much time passed, he could not tell. More and more figures descended the mountain; some were enveloped in faint auras of light, while others carried nothing at all.

Witnessing the glow radiating from him, everyone instantly understood that he had secured the status of a personal disciple. Yet no one dared to draw near, nor did anyone step forward to offer congratulations—as though a bone-chilling frost had seeped deep into his bones, carrying an oppressive aura that rippled outward.

……

Until Qing澜 descended the mountain.

Yue Dong slowly opened his eyes, finally regaining a trace of mortal warmth. He held his breath as he looked toward Qing澜, a trace of imperceptible tension lacing his voice—did he succeed?

At this moment, he craved an affirmative answer above all else, for he desperately wished not to be left behind alone within the Array Sect.

It wasn't until Qing澜 gave a slight nod that his tense frame finally relaxed, and the heavy gloom that had compressed his chest for days on end dissipated at last.

He smiled.

Not far away, Qing澜 smiled as well.

The night grew deep, yet starlight and twilight pierced the darkness, creating an inexplicable, harmonious resonance between the two.

Both had relived the most agonizing tragedies of their pasts, and only at this moment, gazing upon one another, did they reclaim a flicker of the will to live.