Chapter 42: Bidding Farewell Part 1

Zhou Fei's Miao sabre dropped to the floor with a clang. She fumbled to catch Xie Yun just in time before he hit the ground.

Xie Yun was cold, so cold that he couldn't feel anything at all. This was vicious payback for using all that chi to force open his meridians just now: he was trapped in an ice-cold shell of a body, wracked with unbearable pain. His muscles were constricting excruciatingly, rendering him incapable of speech. All he could do was subconsciously cling to Zhou Fei's hand, curling himself up into a foetal position in a futile search for warmth.

Zhou Fei shivered at his touch, as it felt like she had just been plunged into ice-cold water. The sheen of sweat on her from running circles round those black-clad men instantly dissipated. Xie Yun's hand was clutching hers so tightly that she thought her bones might break, but then something seemed to occur to him and he abruptly loosened his grip. Lightly grasping Zhou Fei's hand in his, he said softly and reassuringly: "It's alright…I'm alright…"

He thought that he'd said that out loud, but he hadn't actually made any sound at all. His mouth was moving silently, his lips frozen into a faint smile. Zhou Fei knelt on the ground with him in her arms, feeling utterly helpless. The last time she'd felt like this was when Zhou Yitang had disappeared behind the soaring iron gates of the 48 Zhai, leaving without a single backward glance.

Ying Hecong walked slowly over to them. Glancing at Xie Yun, he rummaged through his pockets for a little bottle, from which he extracted a pill that he handed to Zhou Fei: "Here, take this."

Zhou Fei jerked her head up, her eyes brightening as though someone had just thrown her a life raft. But Ying Hecong's next words dashed her hopes.

"This is the antidote to Morning Dew," he said matter-of-factly, without any idea of how cruel he was being. "Although you were a little further away, you still had to breathe, so you must have inhaled a little bit of it."

At that moment, Zhou Fei's heart that had leapt in her chest crashed painfully back down to earth, leaving a gigantic crater there, and rooting her restless soul to the spot. Zhou Fei bit down hard on her tongue, using that stab of pain to force herself to remain calm. Holding Xie Yun with one hand, she picked up her Miao sabre from the ground with the other and smiled mirthlessly: "Bravo, Doctor Poison."

The little red snake that was coiled round Ying Hecong's wrist lazily reared its triangular head, hissing as it flicked its tongue. Then appearing to sense the hostility emanating from Zhou Fei, it timidly wriggled back up his sleeve. Ying Hecong feared that Zhou Fei might very well stab him if he took another step towards her, so he wisely placed that pill on a blade of grass before backing away.

Far more than visible weapons and formidable pugilists, people feared the invisible scourge of poison and those who lurked in the shadows. And because they were afraid of it, they despised it, such that as long as you dabbled in poison, you would be looked down upon in the martial arts world, regardless of your pedigree or capabilities.

Long since accustomed to being the subject of scorn and fear, Ying Hecong said impassively: "I've had this bottle of Morning Dew with me for three years now, but never got the opportunity to use it. If the two of you hadn't backed Chu Tianquan into a corner today, given my modest skills I would have been discovered the very instant I walked into this forest. As I am grateful to you for this, I will not harm you this time."

Zhou Fei: "This time?"

Ying Hecong gave a firm nod and said candidly: "I owe you a favour, which I'll find a way to return some time. But if you harm me in future, I won't show you any mercy."

Zhou Fei said coldly: "Bold words – aren't you afraid that I'll kill you after taking the antidote?"

Having just succeeded in killing his mortal enemy, Ying Hecong was feeling a little too elated right now to remember to stay on his guard against the dark and treacherous hearts of men. As he realised the distinct possibility of Zhou Fei's threat, that sallow face of his went blank for a second, before becoming even more waxen. But this was enough to reassure Zhou Fei, as she could see that the little bit of cunning which this fellow had shown in taking out Megrez wasn't in his nature. It had only been fuelled by a deep hatred, and even so only for a short while. So she stopped trying to test him and simply picked the pill up: "Why is there only one?"

Ying Hecong arched a brow: "Why not – are you hungry?"

Zhou Fei: "…"

Glancing over at Xie Yun, Ying Hecong added: "He doesn't need it. Don't worry, Bone-Deep Frost is one of the strongest poisons in the world. With this great and mighty one in his system, he's invulnerable to all other poisons. He wouldn't die even if he downed an entire bowl of Morning Dew."

Xie Yun had finally managed to regain a little of his strength. Still lying in Zhou Fei's arms, he said weakly: "Young Master Ying, could you please not speak of Bone-Deep Frost with such admiration?"

Instead of consuming the antidote, Zhou Fei looked up at Ying Hecong and said anxiously: "You said that you owe me a favour – can you cure Bone-Deep Frost?"

Ying Hecong said matter-of-factly: "I will definitely repay the favour, but it has to be something that is within my abilities. Curing someone of Bone-Deep Frost is not, however. I'd told you before that he doesn't have long to live, and since he used his chi to force his meridians open today, it's only worsened his condition, which nobody can treat now – or at least I certainly can't. There's a temple about two miles from here; I think you've got a better chance of saving him if you pray for him there."

"Aren't you from the Great Medicine Valley?" Zhou Fei exploded at his words. She said desperately: "Isn't the Great Medicine Valley reputed to bring the dead back to life? Or is all of that just made up…"

Xie Yun gripped Zhou Fei's hand with some difficulty, his eyes half-closed as he cut her off: "Fei, this has nothing to do with him. Don't hit others where it hurts just because you're frustrated."

Zhou Fei shut her mouth in resignation.

Ying Hecong's already-pale face went completely white at this, and his eyes filled with agony, the same deeply-buried pain which had been a constant companion throughout all his rootless wanderings. Every word of Zhou Fei's was like a cruel whip, leaving lash after bloody lash on his body. He stiffly straightened his back, which was all he could do to retain a little dignity despite this merciless flogging. He said slowly and painfully: "That's right, I am from the Great Medicine Valley. But I can't heal people. Even my usage of poison is just mediocre. I wasn't serious about my studies when I was young, always sneaking out to play whenever my shifu was teaching us about medicine. All three thousand manuals from the Great Medicine Valley were plundered and torched by Alioth and Megrez. This unworthy disciple is all that's left of it."

He could never have imagined that it would one day be impossible to return home, a home which he had once felt so stifled by. All those medical prescriptions and remedies that his shifu rattled endlessly on about had always seemed so dry and tedious to him. Children would often tell themselves that they could always start to buckle down and work hard tomorrow – unaware that sometimes tomorrow never came.

"Avenging myself is all that I know," said Ying Hecong. "I can't save others. People call me 'Doctor Poison' – but I…I am no disciple of the Great Medicine Valley. Is there anything else you wish for my help with?"

Zhou Fei didn't know what to say to that.

After waiting in silence for a moment, Ying Hecong said: "If you can't think of anything right now, you can always let me know in future."

Then he hurriedly turned and left with that basket of snakes on his back, treading a lonely path through the rustling trees. The corpse of his enemy lay behind him, but he appeared indifferent to this, nor was he able to muster up any glee at his victory.

Because all of a sudden, it had hit him that even if he managed to take his revenge, the Great Medicine Valley was no more. It had turned to ash a long time ago, erased by the ruthlessness of time, leaving behind the most paltry of legacies. He was not fit to be called the 'last remaining disciple of the Great Medicine Valley', and was nothing more than a drifting weed on its grave.

'Amidst the harshness of life, who has any sympathy for those who fail at their ambitions?

I look around me, and all I see are unfeeling strangers.'[1]

The sun over Yongzhou had sunk behind its hills, its afterglow fading from the skies above the thickening fog.

Feeling as if weights had been placed on his eyelids, Xie Yun didn't try to keep his eyes open, greedily leaning into the girl's warm embrace. He still didn't know that Ying Hecong had already left, and was still muttering in a near-inaudible voice: "All kingdoms and clans, sects and people – each has their predestined end. Young Master Ying, don't take things so hard."

Zhou Fei couldn't bear hearing him say anymore of this. With much difficulty, she hauled Xie Yun onto her back.

She didn't care about any of it – Chu Tianquan's corpse, the Seal of Propriety, or any men from the Big Dipper that might have escaped.

Zhou Fei thought hollowly to herself that she absolutely had to find a way forward. Since Ying Hecong had proved useless, she would just have to continue in her search, until she managed to find something or someone that could save Xie Yun. Even if she had to scour the ends of the earth, or the depths of the seas, as long as it existed in this world, she would eventually be able to uncover it somehow.

His chest resting uncomfortably on her narrow back, Xie Yun murmured haplessly in her ear: "Fei, you said that if you were me, even if it all amounts to nothing in the end, at least you'd be able to shut your eyes and go down to the grave in peace…you had me completely convinced. Since nothing can be done about it now, what's happened to leaving in peace like you said? If you cry, you'd be going back on your word."

While shouldering a bunch of heavy weapons was nothing to Zhou Fei, hauling such a long-limbed person was quite the challenge. Gritting her teeth, she ground out: "Shut up!"

Xie Yun reached a hand round to her face and felt around it. When he didn't feel any wetness at all as expected, he smiled and said: "Excellent, there's the hard-heartedness I like about you…put me down, there are a few things I want to say."

Zhou Fei ignored him.

Xie Yun continued to cling onto her slender shoulders. In his dazed state, he thought that he smelled a faint floral fragrance, which mixed with the whiff of soap from her neck to form a singular scent that was both clean and comforting. Seeming to be lost in his own thoughts, he said slowly: "By the time the Shao Dynasty reached my grandfather's generation…the late Emperor, that is, it was already rotting away from the inside. Many of its problems were entrenched and irreversible, such that his rule was like an ancient building on the verge of collapse, tottering on its crumbling foundations. My grandfather was an Emperor born in the wrong era, who dreamed ardently of rejuvenating the empire. He pursued this dream relentlessly, working himself to the bone…bent on pushing through those reforms that he dreamed of, and killing many who stood in his way."

"So much so that two rebellions took place during his rule, causing the people to suffer…and neither his clan nor his officials stood with him. My father was named Crown Prince when he was only six years old. He lived cloistered in the East Palace for most of his life, and was a meek and timid man. While he knew that his father was wrong, he didn't know how exactly; and while he wanted to counsel his father, he didn't dare disobey him. Caught between the Emperor and the imperial court, he always returned to the East Palace at the end of the day in a state of misery. He ended up drowning his sorrows in carnal pleasures, such that he failed to accomplish anything in the imperial court nor on the battlefield, and could not even compare to the eunuch who chaperoned him…the Zhao royal family had reached the end of its road. A change of regime, and the southward migration of its descendants, were all quite natural."

"Fei…" said Xie Yun as he rested his chin on her shoulder. His hands that were clasped round her neck had unconsciously dropped to his sides, having lost all sensation. He murmured on, his speech starting to slur: "What I mean to say, is that humans are like dynasties…many things in life, such as sickness and death…are already predestined, and beyond us…"

Zhou Fei yelled: "Stop it! I don't believe any of that!"

Before he left the 48 Zhai,Zhou Yitang had firmly ingrained in Zhou Fei the principle that only the strongest survive. So every time she encountered an insurmountable hurdle, she would always chalk this up to her own incompetence.

Such was the boundless verve of youth.

But only now did it occur to her that this was not so. No matter how powerful one became, there would always be certain things that one was destined not to have, certain things that one would be completely helpless in the face of.

While Zhou Fei had come to understand this, she refused to admit it, which caused her to protest it all the more vehemently. But Xie Yun instantly discerned the truth from that fervent exclamation of 'I don't believe any of that!' – he knew that she'd already believed it.

Even if she had the fiercest of blades, and the most indomitable of spirits, she would ultimately be forced into submission by this cold and cruel world.

Wasn't this the fate of man?

In his days of aimless roaming, whenever he settled in for the night at some nameless inn or other, and was sitting all alone under the dim lamplight, Xie Yun had on numerous occasions imagined the time and place of his death, where he might be buried, and whether his remains could be returned to his birthplace – and would find himself overcome with sorrow and a touch of self-pity. But now, when he could keenly feel his impending demise at last, he just felt strangely at peace.

He no longer wracked his brains to conjure up those gradually fading memories of the old capital, nor did he think fondly of the magnificent Jinling. He didn't even think about his shifu's home, where he'd grown from a boy to a youth.

Was the old capital really his home?

Could buildings and streets that had long since changed still be considered home? It was probably just nostalgia.

"Fei," said Xie Yun. "You know all that stuff I mentioned to you about being Prince Duan's consort – I was just joking around, don't take any of it seriously…"

Zhou Fei said harshly: "Dream on! I never said I wanted to be your…"

"Because I don't want to be a so-called 'Prince Duan'," said Xie Yun softly, almost as if he were talking to himself. "There's no glory to be had in sharing a title with that Fatty Cao, even if I'm far more dashing."

"I want to follow you back to the 48 Zhai, or to…anywhere will do, really. I want to live as any old mountain dweller, and become any old mountain ghost when I die. I'll provoke you when I'm bored, and run when you beat me, and after running for a couple of weeks, return again once your anger subsides. I'd gladly suffer your bullying all day without complaint…"

His voice was fading away, those last few sentences so soft that even he himself couldn't hear them, as if they had melded into that dreamland which he was depicting.

The trees rustled in the cool night breeze, casting long and moonlit shadows on the grass.

Xie Yun called out: "Fei…"

This world was vast and boundless, its skies infinite.

In the end, home turned out to be where one's heart was at peace.

"Fei." He called out to her yet again in his mind, feeling as if she might still be able to hear him.

And then he gradually lost sight of where he had come from, and where he was going, gradually slipping free from the troubles of this world.

***

Zhou Fei could hear the irregular lapping of water. A man's hoary voice was mixed with the water's gurgling, humming something in time with his rowing. It sounded like a fisherman's song, sung in an indeterminate dialect that Zhou Fei couldn't understand, but which she found quite soothing. She thought that she must still be dreaming, but shortly after, several fat drops of cold water landed on her face, and she opened her eyes with a start. She was greeted by the sight of a magnificent galaxy of stars, hanging overhead above the peaks of mountains both near and far.

Zhou Fei propped herself with much difficulty, finding that her hands and legs were so numb that they refused to listen to her. The second she raised her head, a wave of nausea hit her, and everything went black as she flopped down onto her back again. Only after a good long while was she able to make out her surroundings by starlight.

She was on a little boat, which was rocking back and forth in the water as it sailed slowly ahead. The waters here were crystal clear, the skyful of brilliant stars that were reflected in it scattering and gathering with the undulating waves…

While this was a pretty sight, the moving lights were making Zhou Fei even more nauseous. She leaned over the side of the boat and tried to vomit, but there was nothing in her empty stomach to expel. Zhou Fei clutched the side of the boat, feeling as sick as a dog. The sound of rushing water was ringing thunderously in her ears, and her mind was completely blank, as if there was a gaping hole in her memories. She said out loud in her confusion: "What I was just doing? Why am I here?"

Just then, someone called out to her: "Little miss, didn't you just narrowly escape death? Why have you no regard for your life?"

Zhou Fei squinted in the direction of that voice with astonishment. A lanky figure stood at the bow of this boat. It was an old man, wearing a wide-brimmed hat atop his head and standing there barefooted. His back was bent, and his thin, bony hands were rowing the boat forward at an unhurried pace. The old man addressed her again: "You've been poisoned by snake venom, and have the antidote in your hand, yet refuse to eat it – you're trying to see how long you can last, eh?"

Snake venom?

Zhou Fei felt something click in her brain, like a rusted-shut door suddenly bursting open with a tremendous bang. The farcical 'Conference of Heroes to Attack the North', the Mountain of the Living Dead, Chu Tianquan, Ying Hecong…everything came rushing back to her, the flurry of images that flashed across her mind eventually halting on that of a tall and slender man.

Xie Yun!

Zhou Fei shot to her feet, the sudden motion causing this flimsy little skiff[2] to rock left and right.

With a groan, the old man manoeuvred the oar in his hands through the waters. While he didn't seem to have exerted much effort, the skiff had regained its balance once more. He said: "Slowly does it, slowly…Amitabha, what is it with all of you youngsters, that you're always in a hurry."

Only now did Zhou Fei realise that this old man was in fact a monk.

He was wearing a tattered and heavily patched-up robe, and sported a little grizzled moustache. A string of badly worm-eaten Buddhist prayer beads hung round his neck, and a pair of monk's shoes that had been washed so many times they had faded lay at a corner of the skiff.

Zhou Fei gripped the side of the gently rocking boat so tightly her knuckles were white, and asked him with great difficulty: "Sir, where…where is the man who was with me?"

The old monk didn't reply. He simply held his oar in one hand and placed the other in front of his chest in prayer, chanting lowly: "Amitabha."

Zhou Fei was rooted to the spot, as if she had turned to stone. Then she started to shake uncontrollably.

All the stars in the galaxy above seemed to have plummeted into the water in that instant, extinguished into a couple of burnt-out rocks. The sounds of the water and the wind around her seemed to have abandoned her completely, as she couldn't hear a thing.

On the way here, Zhou Fei had Li Sheng and Li Yan by her side, as well as Yang Jin and Wu Chuchu. She had to watch Xie Yun, to prevent him from running away, while sparing the time also to tease Yang Jin, to protect Wu Chuchu, to quarrel with Li Sheng, and to make sure that Li Yan didn't get into trouble. She had been busy all day long, her hands full with a hundred and one things.

But now, standing all by herself on a little skiff under the boundless night sky, she was suddenly assailed by the utter vastness of this world, which caused everything around her to fade into nothingness. She felt completely, bleakly alone.

Zhou Fei had always held a sabre in her hand, while her head had always been endlessly preoccupied with martial arts, techniques that she replayed over and over again in her head even in her moments of rest – there was always something she had to be doing, such that she sometimes found this world far too bothersome. But all of a sudden, it felt as if half of her bustling universe had collapsed, leaving behind a pile of desolate ruins. Surveying this wasteland around her, she had a taste of what utter loneliness was like.

But the old monk didn't seem to notice the state she was in, as he continued to row his boat as before while asking: "Where would you like to go, Miss? Let me bring you there."

Where did she want to go?

Zhou Fei really couldn't say.

Seeing that she couldn't give him an answer, the old monk didn't press her for one. The skiff continued to move down this river, which alternately widened and narrowed as it wound through the mountains; and the old monk continued to leisurely hum his fisherman's ditty in that hoarse voice of his. Zhou Fei felt so dizzy that she was a little unsteady on her feet, which she wasn't sure was because of the effects of Morning Dew or her seasickness. She flopped dejectedly onto the floor of the boat, her back against its curtained awning.[3]

She didn't know where she should be going, nor what she should be doing.

In every person's life, there would inevitably come a time when you would feel that the many years that you had lived through were all for naught, and you were right back where you started.

In that moment, Zhou Fei felt that everything that had happened so far – her journey from North to South, and the numerous people and things that she had encountered – were all but an illusory dream. And now, beneath the infinite night sky, she had awakened from this long and vivid dream. All that courage which she had displayed, which allowed her to shoulder immense responsibilities and to set off on a journey of a thousand miles, was merely a figment of her imagination. She was dazed and confused, still the same little girl who found herself trapped behind the gates of the 48 Zhai.

Zhou Fei was choked with despair, and felt an unbearable tightness in her chest. She had never learnt how to wail in grief, and for fear of capsizing this unsteady little boat, she couldn't even vent her emotions by wildly swinging her sabre around either. That bitter pain swirled within her shallow chest like a violent maelstrom, unable to find release. It was fortunate that she had always been strong of will – even in her current state, it didn't occur to her to jump into the rushing waters to be a watery corpse.

Zhou Fei suddenly spoke: "Sir, do you have any wine?"

The old monk replied: "Abstention from alcohol is one of the eight precepts.[4] I never have wine on me. But there is a kettle hanging off the awning, which I boiled some water in. If you don't mind, Miss, you may drink it as you please."

Zhou Fei reached over to grab the kettle hanging off the boat's awning. When she opened it, a refreshing herbal scent wafted up her nostrils. Not stopping to consider what might be in it, or if she should be drinking something offered by a stranger, she gulped half of the water down, the astringent taste of it travelling all the way along her throat. Its medicinal tang made Zhou Fei's brow furrow, but at least her nausea seemed to have subsided substantially, and she finally felt a little more clear-headed.

Seeing that she had somewhat regained her mental faculties at last, the old monk said to her: "We have already left Yongzhou City, and if we go any further, we'll be out of this region completely. Have you decided where you wish to go?"

Zhou Fei had told Yang Jin that she would meet them outside Yongzhou City. She should go back, but just as those words reached her lips, she felt the strangest inertia to say them.

Because after meeting up with them, then what?

She supposed that she would continue looking into Sea Blends Into Sky. But Zhou Fei had already lost all interest in it. She lazily stretched one leg out in front of her, hugging the other to her chest. In fact, she felt like she couldn't muster up any interest in anything. She couldn't even be bothered to practice her sabre. All she wanted to do was drift aimlessly along on this rundown boat.

With his back to her, the old monk said: "It doesn't matter if you can't figure out where you wish to go – all you have to do, is remember why you came."

Zhou Fei fiddled with the iron kettle, and lowered her head as she said: "I came because of someone."

But he was already gone.

The old monk said: "No."

Zhou Fei looked up at him in bewilderment.

The old monk continued to row his oar, his bony shoulder blades working up and down like a butterfly's fragile wings.

As he seemed to be having some difficulty, Zhou Fei said: "Let me help you."

The old monk didn't refuse, handing to Zhou Fei the large oar that was as tall as her. He removed his wide-brimmed hat and placed it to the side, meticulously put on his faded shoes, then looked at his reflection in the water to adjust his robes. He dressed himself with fastidious care, as if these weren't some shabby patched-up clothes he was putting on, but holy robes vested with magical powers.

Testing the weight of the oar in her hand, Zhou Fei realised that it was strangely heavy, even more so than the sabres that she normally used. Mimicking the old monk's movements, she thrust the oar into the river at an angle and dragged it through the water. But while she looked like she had come quite close to the real thing, her technique was off somehow. The little skiff kept spinning round in circles, refusing to move ahead even an inch.

Zhou Fei asked: "Great Master, how do I get this thing to go forward?"

The old monk was sitting cross-legged on the floor of the boat. Offering neither guidance nor reproach, he asked: "How does one move forward? Why don't you ask yourself – what is forward? And what is backwards? Once you figure this out, then you will know how to move forward."

The boat continued to go round and round, doing the exact opposite of what she wanted it to do. Zhou Fei fumbled with the bulky oar, suspecting that this old monk she'd run into was stark raving mad.

The old monk sat there in silent meditation, his fingers moving across his string of prayer beads one by one. He smiled and said: "You said that you came because of someone. But the person you speak of is but a part of your predestined journey, one full of fated ups and downs, encounters and farewells. Since this was but a chance encounter, a part of your destiny, how can you say that you came for this person?"

Zhou Fei held that ungovernable oar in her hand, feeling quite lost.

At the very beginning, Li Jinrong had sent her to receive Zhang Chenfei and General Wu's family. But Zhang Chenfei had perished midway through, and only one of the Wu family's three remaining members had survived. She had been hotly pursued back to the 48 Zhai, where she had encountered a calamitous siege…

Zhou Fei said softly: "Great Master, you don't even know who I am. How could you possibly understand?"

The old monk continued to stroke his prayer beads as he asked: "Before you came to know this person, what were you doing every day?"

Perhaps because she felt completely empty, and had absolutely nothing to do right now, Zhou Fei found that her mood actually seemed to be improving a little. She didn't lose her temper at this old monk's exasperating rhetoric as she normally might. Instead, she started to go along with this with great interest, saying patiently: "I used to practice martial arts."

The old monk said: "And what did you practice martial arts for?"

Zhou Fei replied without a thought: "What else would I have done? I certainly couldn't have studied the classics."

The old monk said: "Then since the person you're after is no longer around, isn't continuing to practice martial arts the natural course of action? Why is it that you know not where to go?"

Zhou Fei was rendered speechless.

"Amitabha," said the old monk. Then he continued his relentless line of questioning: "So, Miss, what did you practice martial arts for?"

What did she practice martial arts for?

At the very beginning, she had done so out of a childish streak of competitiveness, and to earn a nod of approval from Mistress Li. Later on, she'd fantasized about surpassing Li Jinrong one day…but she wasn't too seized with this, because at the time that goal had seemed far too distant, even delusional. And then even later on, Zhou Yitang had thwacked her on the head with the hard lesson that 'only the strongest survive', thereby pushing her into the treacherous thicket of metal strings in the Ink-Washing River.

She had finally earned the right to walk past those soaring iron gates, leaving the utopia that was the 48 Zhai, to face the dangerously brutal and bloody martial arts world. She had witnessed the rampant villainy of the wicked, the meek silence of the good, the brazenness of common scoundrels, and the despair of fallen heroes…all of this had frequently been hard to swallow, and she had been overcome with indignation numerous times, but often the most she could do was save her own skin, helpless to do anything more.

Gradually, this had made her desire to sharpen her Snow-Breaking Sabre grow stronger by the day.

Zhou Fei had never met that legendary grandfather of hers, and Li Jinrong had rarely ever mentioned him to her. But ever since widespread rumours had forced upon her the false reputation of 'Successor to the Southern Blade', she had started to feel a sort of kinship with him – not of blood, but of the blade.

Zhou Fei stood there staring into space for a good long while, finally muttering: "For…for the sake of my grandfather's technique."

The old monk gave her a benevolent smile that crinkled his eyes.

"Those stories of the 'Two Blades, One Sword, and Withered-Glory Hands' have long since passed," said Zhou Fei. "And while all of us unworthy descendants continue to wield the weapons left behind by our ancestors, we are barely surviving – it's too shameful to bear. I just feel like this isn't the way things should be."

The old monk nodded and said: "You come from an eminent clan."

Zhou Fei shook her head – even today, whenever anyone asked her who she was, she would always brush off the question, not daring to reveal that her last name was Zhou and her name was Fei, that she hailed from the 48 Zhai, or that she was the successor to the Li Clan's Snow-Breaking Sabre. This was partly due to caution, as she didn't want to create trouble for the 48 Zhai, but also partly because she felt that she wasn't worthy of this false title of 'Successor to the Southern Blade' – revealing who she was would be too embarrassing.

She exhaled deeply. Although her pain hadn't lessened by much at all, her soul seemed to have stirred to life once more. Massaging her temples, she thought to herself: Right, I don't even know how things are back home right now. All this fuss with Huo Liantao might have altered the state of play somehow. And now that Huo Liantao was gone, didn't it mean that Ding Kui and those of his ilk would be running even more rampant?

She had to go back, to explain everything to Li Jinrong, and if necessary, she might even have to continue investigating Sea Blends Into Sky, since it had whipped the entire martial arts community of the central plains into a frenzy. With the paltry numbers of skilled pugilists still left in the 48 Zhai at present, even with Mistress Li there they would be in danger if anything were to happen. It did indeed fall to her to shoulder some of these responsibilities back home.

And once all of this came to mind, her erstwhile empty heart was suddenly filled to the brim with myriad concerns. Sighing, Zhou Fei said to the old monk: "I guess…I guess I'll need you to send me back to the outskirts of Yongzhou City then, Great Master. This…this boat is really too…"

The old monk was smiling at her. Taking that wilful oar from her hands, he said: "Go look under the awning."

Zhou Fei thought that he wanted her to fetch something for him, and stepped gingerly across the rocking boat to get to the awning. She lifted its thick curtain and looked inside…

And was promptly stunned. The person that she thought she'd never see again was lying peacefully right there.

Zhou Fei's knees buckled under her, and she nearly collapsed to the ground. She staggered inside tremulously, her hand shaking several times before she managed to place it under Xie Yun's nose. Even though it was still as cold as ever, and even though his breath was so feeble that she almost couldn't feel anything, it was still there!

She knelt beneath the awning for a good long while, staring blankly at him. Before she knew it, tears were streaming down her face.

The old monk didn't bother Zhou Fei, nor did he continue rowing his oar, yet the little boat seemed to have sprouted fins all of a sudden, as it started to glide across the water on its own. A water bird landed on the edge of the boat, cocking its head as it sized up the old monk for a moment, not afraid of him at all. Then it slowly settled its ruffled feathers, stretched out its beak, and began to leisurely preen itself.

Zhou Fei wasn't sure how much time had passed before she finally raised the curtain and emerged from under the awning. The water bird had a huge fright upon seeing her, and with a tremendous squawk, took off in a flurry of feathers.

The old monk still had his back to her as he sighed: "Now that your blade is out again, I would say that this is a small success."

Zhou Fei had wiped her tears away, but her eyes were still red. Whichever way one looked at her, she still seemed like a poor little girl who had been through far too much for her to handle. She had no idea how this old monk, or the startled waterbird, for that matter, could perceive that her 'blade is out again'.

Pulling herself together, she cleared her throat and said solemnly: "Many thanks to you, Great Master."

The old monk simply smiled in understanding, and waved away her thanks. It was the same for both men and animals: both sometimes had a sixth sense for impending danger, or death. When your loved ones were on their deathbeds, you would inevitably have your eyes glued on them, and subconsciously hold your breath, striving to make out their last words. And when their eyes finally shut forever, and they slipped away from this world, all those around them would start to wail in grief, and wallow in a hundred thousand different unrealistic fantasies out of a heart-rending reluctance to let go, unable to accept their passing.

But in actual fact, the very moment you held your breath just before the person passed, you had already mentally prepared yourself for his death. While Zhou Fei had known full well that there was no way she would be able to bring Xie Yun back, and while she had still tremulously asked where he was, in her heart of hearts she was quite certain that she would never see him alive again. Now that he was right in front of her, unconscious but still breathing at least, she knew that this old monk had somehow managed to preserve his life.

Although he had the faintest of breaths, this was enough for all of Zhou Fei's extinguished hopes to be fanned into flame yet again. Feeling a little embarrassed by her previous behaviour, she composed herself as best she could and said politely: "Great Master, what can be done about him, now that he's in this state?"

The old monk said: "I was only barely able to keep him alive, using a handful of silver needles and some medicine. As for curing him of Bone-Deep Frost entirely, us old fogeys had already started looking into this many years back, but still have yet to figure anything out…ah, I had a bad feeling about it when I heard that the Cloud-Parting Palms had re-appeared in the Shu region. I followed him all the way here, but alas, I was just a little too late."

Zhou Fei looked at him in shock: "Great Master…then…might I ask…what your name is?"

"So it's finally occurred to you to ask for my name, eh?" said the old monk with a smile. "Why don't you think a little harder – is there anything else you might have forgotten?"

Zhou Fei picked up the Miao sabre that was leaning against the side of the boat and lightly swung it in a circle, too embarrassed to respond. She'd clean forgotten about far too many things – Chu Tianquan's dead body, the Seal of Propriety which had vanished, as well as that poor child Zhao Ming Chen, who Xie Yun had basically sacrificed his life to save…but everything inside of her had gone up in flames just now, and the thick smoke from the incineration of all her hopes and dreams had made her all woozy.

The old monk said: "I am but a lowly monk roaming the earth. My name is 'Tong Ming'. You probably haven't heard of me before."

Zhou Fei: "…"

Who was that? She really hadn't.

The old monk Tong Ming pointed to the curtained awning and said: "That useless young'un back there is my disciple."

Zhou Fei nearly kowtowed to him right there and then, unsure if kissing his feet and saying "It's an honour to finally meet you" might suffice to make up for her behaviour thus far.

Tong Ming chuckled and added: "But don't you worry, while he trained under me, he is no celibate monk. When he was a child, he once shaved off all his hair of his own volition, but I knew that he was too tethered to desires of the flesh, so I didn't take it seriously. Nobody else did either, and after a few years he found this a bore, and decided to stop being a monk."

Zhou Fei: "…"

She felt like this old monk was teasing her somehow.

Zhou Fei opened her mouth, but was unsure of what to say in response. She sat down against the side of the boat, leaning on her sabre as she said: "He…Brother Xie once told me that the Bone-Deep Frost in him was only suppressed when one of his shifus transferred all his internal strength to him."

"Ah," nodded the old monk. "Extremely powerful chi was needed to seal Bone-Deep Frost in his meridians. I personally helped with the transfer at the time." Sighing, he continued: "But I'd already thought then that this wouldn't be able to last. Because this child, An Zhi, is by nature a deeply loyal person, and it would be impossible for him to remain detached and indifferent forever."

Zhou Fei asked: "An Zhi?"

"A name given to him by one of his shifus,"[5] said Tong Ming. "Didn't he ever tell you?"

Zhou Fei: "…"

He'd only ever told her that he was called 'No-Luck'.

Zhou Fei asked again: "Then in the last few years…"

"I've been trying to find a cure for Bone-Deep Frost," said Tong Ming. "Besides using an external force to suppress it, I've tried to uncover the formula for the Sun-Returning Pill. But the Great Medicine Valley was so completely decimated that apart from several pills which had somehow landed in the hands of outsiders very early on, not a single page of this formula was left. However, I managed to find some historical accounts which said that the Sun-Returning Pill was concocted by a radical senior from the Great Medicine Valley who dabbled in unorthodox methods, and was eventually exiled due to his various transgressions. This was also why there were precious few Sun-Returning Pills still in existence when the Great Medicine Valley was destroyed."

Zhou Fei asked: "What kind of unorthodox methods did he dabble in?"

"Those involving the concoction of pills," said Tong Ming. "This senior was greatly gifted, but he became deeply discouraged after a tragic incident and stopped pursuing medicine. Instead, he grew obsessed with immortality, and dreamed of concocting a pill that could grant one immortal life. While the pills he concocted certainly couldn't bestow immortality, he did manage to develop a number of strange and powerful ones, including the Sun-Returning Pill. According to my research, this pill appears to be a kind of incredibly potent tonic. It creates an immense heat within the body of its user, vastly quickening the circulation of blood. This causes his internal strength to skyrocket within a short period of time, although the heat within him will continue rising until he overheats and dies."

Zhou Fei exclaimed: "So it's poisonous?!"

"I suppose you could say that," said Tong Ming with a nod. "The Sun-Returning Pill isn't the antidote to Bone-Deep Frost. Rather, the two just so happen to cancel each other out, achieving an equilibrium between the two poisons. As for how long this lasts, well, it'll depend on the person's fate."

Zhou Fei thought of the former sect leader of Mingfeng Tower, who had indeed passed on when she was still quite young. Elder Yu too had needed to spend his days by the Ink-Washing River, and even if Kou Dan hadn't backstabbed him, it was unclear how much longer he might have lived. All this information about poisons and medicines was making Zhou Fei feel more perplexed than ever. She asked: "Then what do you plan on doing? And what can I do to help?"

Tong Ming said: "I'll be bringing him back to Penglai in a few days' time."

At the words 'Penglai', Zhou Fei's eyes widened.

While the 'Two Blades, One Sword, and Withered-Glory Hands' had been well-known individually, the 'Scattered Deities of Penglai' were a complete mystery. It was unknown if they were male or female, young or old, and it wasn't even clear if they were a group of people or a single person. Some even said that they didn't actually exist, and that this notion of 'Penglai' had been made up simply to round out the ranks of heroes.

"And as for you, Miss, there are indeed some things that I would like your help with."