Jiugao had never known such a moment of profound silence; it was as if the world had lost all sound, even its very breath.
The once-bustling docks were so still that one could hear the dew dripping into the river. Masts and towropes swayed gently with the ripples, and not even the shadow of a waterbird could be seen. No travelers or carriages graced the small paths connecting the town to the countryside, leaving behind only a chaotic mess of ruts. Weeds swayed silently in the cold wind by the roadside, merging into the surrounding desolation. The city, built of stone and standing with such majesty, seemed to have vanished into the chaotic haze of heaven and earth, as if it had never existed at all.
A fog, the likes of which had not been seen in a century, shrouded all of Jiugao. The wind could not scatter it, nor could water dissolve it; any living creature that stepped into it would be swallowed in an instant.
But this was not the true reason for the deathly silence of the mountains and forests. Something far harder to disperse than mist was spreading across this land—something invisible and intangible, yet capable of claiming lives and stealing sanity.
To the west of Jiugao, deep within the heart of that silence, lay a mountain forest known to few. It was a small place with few nearby villages. The name "Zhizhu Mountain" was known only to locals, yet the mountain pass connecting the north and south was quite famous: the Qingping Road, which had been the site of much turmoil this year.
Qingping Road had never been peaceful. Not only was the path narrow and treacherous—traversed only by the boldest of martial artists—but a bloody massacre had occurred there just this year. There were even rumors that the calamity currently afflicting the city had begun here, making it a truly ominous place.
Yet, at this very moment, a carriage broke the silence, galloping across the foothills.
The carriage was extremely plain in appearance, devoid of any decoration, with only copper bells hanging from its four corners. The person inside seemed somewhat bored; despite the jolting mountain road, they insisted on poking half their head out to gaze at the misty mountain scenery.
"This Longshu region is a place of mist and rain, but the wind after the onset of winter is quite harsh. Young Master should be careful not to catch a cold."
Outside the carriage, the driver—a man with thick brows and small eyes—offered kind advice. However, the person leaning out the window did not comply, and when they spoke, their voice was that of a youth.
"I came specifically to investigate this turmoil in Jiugao. If I stay huddled in the carriage, how can I see anything clearly?"
To dare traverse Qingping Road at such a time was bold enough; only a half-grown child would act so recklessly. Yet, hearing the calm in the speaker’s tone—treating the so-called "Jiugao Turmoil" as lightly as a discussion about the weather or a meal—one would not dare dismiss the owner of that voice as a mere impetuous youth.
The driver dared not advise further and could only slow the pace.
As the mountain road curved ahead, a faint, strange noise drifted toward them. The young master in the carriage couldn't help but look forward.
"What is that sound?"
A moment later, the driver’s voice came through the curtain, still unhurried.
"Reporting to Young Master, it is nothing of consequence. Likely just some local mountain bandits..."
"Bandits?" The young master’s voice instantly gained a spark of interest, and he sat up. "In all our travels, I truly haven't seen a mountain bandit yet. Why not bring them up for a look?"
"This... I fear it is not in accordance with the rules." The driver’s voice sounded hesitant, ending with a forced chuckle. "Filthy little thieves—I fear they would offend your eyes."
*Not in accordance with the rules.* This was truly the phrase he had heard most often over the years.
It was never a question of danger, but a question of whether it fit the rules. It was as if so long as something followed the rules, it was reasonable and could endure forever.
The walnuts he was rubbing in his hand clicked together. The young master lowered his eyes, and when he spoke again, his voice brooked no argument.
"Rules are made by men. Is a mere bandit truly enough to make things so difficult for you?"
There wasn't much reproach in his voice, but the driver immediately bowed his head to beg for forgiveness. In an instant, several fully armed men appeared outside the carriage. Within moments, a filthy figure was hauled up to the carriage for the person inside to "appreciate."
This "bandit" looked as if they had just been dug out of the earth—covered in dust from head to toe, with blood on their face and disheveled hair. Their legs shook uncontrollably from exhaustion, but their eyes were startlingly bright, darting around restlessly. Before their backside even hit the seat, the first thing they did was lunge halfway out the window and snatch the bells from the four corners of the carriage.
The driver guarding the carriage was startled and immediately shouted a stern rebuke. The "bandit," however, acted as if she hadn't heard, clutching the copper bells as she leaned toward the young master. When she spoke, it was the voice of a woman.
"Bell chimes attract ghosts. Has Brother not heard of this?"
Her voice was secretive, and given they were in a place of such desolate mountains and wicked waters, her words were eerie. Yet the young master showed not a hint of alarm. Instead, he nodded with great interest.
"I have indeed heard of such things. It is said that those possessed by evil spirits can travel a thousand miles a day without fatigue, driven only by the call of bells and gongs—truly a strange and wondrous thing. Having the chance to see for myself whether this rumor is true or false, how could I miss it?"
Those who travel at night usually fear encountering ghosts; this person, however, seemed to wish for a ghost to come knocking.
The filthy "bandit" froze, caught off guard as the person before her suddenly reached out and pinched her cheek. After squeezing for a while, he pulled back, looking somewhat disappointed.
"Neither a bandit nor an evil spirit. How dull."
Having said that, he closed his eyes, his five fingers lazily returning to rubbing the walnuts. The woman opposite him rubbed her cheek and leaned in.
"Why is the Young Master traveling this road? Have you not noticed? In these mountains, let alone a carriage, one cannot even find a single living soul."
The young master remained silent for a moment, then tilted his head, resting it on his hand.
"I had a bit of a falling out with my family and left in a fit of pique. I happened to hear that Jiugao was in trouble, so I came by to take a look. You say there are no living souls here, so what is your situation? Why are you wandering this place?"
That was a long story. If she were to tell it all from start to finish, she’d be losing money if she didn't charge at least thirty wen for tea.
Taking a deep breath, Qin Jiuye made up her mind and finally spoke in a low, serious voice.
"To be honest with the Young Master, I have risked my life alone to cross these deep forests solely to find Prince Yu'an from the capital. I wish to report to him in person, asking him to show mercy to Jiugao, seeing as the city's physicians and I have already solved the mystery of the strange illness. I hope he will assist Water Control Commandant Qiu Yan’s family in wiping out the villains and securing a chance at life for the people of the city."
Her words were organized and righteous, a far cry from the cowering, shifty-eyed person who had first boarded the carriage.
Based on the young master’s previous behavior, one would expect a barrage of questions. Instead, he fell silent, re-evaluating her with a thoughtful gaze for a long time.
"When did Jiugao gain a female official? I have never heard of such a thing."
The woman lowered her head and spoke honestly.
"This humble one is a mere commoner. I hold no office or rank in that city."
"Then you must be a renowned physician of the Longshu region? May I ask your title?"
The woman bowed her head even lower.
"A mere village doctor, without name or title."
"No office, no rank, no name, no title..." The other man slowly savored her self-introduction, asking half-mockingly and half-seriously, "...Why do you think that with just your words, you can convince me that you can save Jiugao?"
This time, however, she looked up.
She did not speak immediately but pressed her lips together as she gazed at him. She seemed to be thinking of how to use words to end this nearly impossible-to-answer question, or perhaps she was simply letting long-held thoughts find their voice. The dust of her journey obscured her features, but light danced in the depths of her eyes until everything converged like a river reaching the sea. As if having finally made up her mind, she began her vital plea.
"I have traveled far and wide as an itinerant doctor before settling in the countryside to open a pharmacy. I have treated hundreds, if not thousands, of people. Among them were commoners, but also many so-called martial arts masters—people who usually live by the blade and kill without blinking. Yet, whenever they were in unbearable pain or hovering between life and death, they would still cry for their parents and pray to gods and Buddhas. However, the only person who could let them see tomorrow’s sun was a village doctor like me."
"Since ancient times, those who believe in gods and ghosts have been countless. Yet most so-called miracles are merely the laws of heaven and earth, or nature itself. People place all their hope in cold stone statues, incense that turns to ash in an instant, and complex, pious prayers. Aside from consuming their own courage and will, they receive no response. If gods and ghosts truly exist in this world, the face with which they look down upon this land is one without joy or sorrow, without passion or desire. Like a shepherd to his flock, the flock to the kindling, or the kindling to the porridge, it is impossible for them to empathize or understand the agony of life and death."
"Throughout history, suffering and calamity have never ceased. People in agony seem to wait forever for a savior, yet those with truly firm convictions choose to become the saviors themselves. They may only have a mortal soul, a body of flesh and blood, and a frame of bones; they may have been mediocre for a long time, afflicted with illness or flaws in character; they may never have thought that when the stars and moon lose their light, they would have to burn themselves to illuminate the long night. But they still reached out their hands, held up the sky above their heads, and gave everything they had just so the flame could be passed on."
"Fine jade and jewels often accompany bleached bones. But common herbs and discarded drum skins have their uses. *Yuanzhi* is but a small herb, yet a small herb is also 'Great Ambition.' Even if the order of this world is often held in the hands of those who are clever and selfish, the burden of protecting this world often falls on those who are persistent, even foolish—foolish to the point of not fearing sacrifice. If my storyteller friend were still here, he should write the names of these mortals into the depths of time, so that the hymns of the selfish do not erase their glory."
The woman spoke everything in one breath. Her voice did not sound weary; instead, it grew louder and clearer, as if it would pierce through the carriage, through the thick fog of the mountain pass, and across the great mountains and rivers to reach the infinite expanse of the world.
"The ones who can truly save the common people from fire and water are not gods or ghosts, but the common people themselves. I am one of those people. Why, Young Master, do you not believe me?"
As the last word fell, the echo vibrated in the surroundings before fading. The walnuts in the young master’s hand no longer made a sound. The carriage had stopped at some point, and the world was as silent as it was at the dawn of creation.
The woman looked to be only in her early twenties. These words were clearly an epiphany born of experiencing life and death. If spoken to anyone struggling in this world, they would surely stir the heart, if not move it entirely. But in the ears of a ruler, they had an indescribable sting.
Especially when that ruler was the current Heaven of Xiangliang, the master of the realm—one who could be called the divinely appointed messenger of fate.
The young master loosened his grip, and a walnut rolled across the floor, traveling a long way before stopping. He still had that pampered face, but the light in his eyes had changed. It was sharp and cold, filled with the Way of Ruthlessness.
"A fine sentiment—that the saviors of the world are the common people themselves. If there truly are gods in heaven listening, I wonder how much anger and disappointment they would feel. Perhaps they would bring calamity upon you, a mere mortal, to punish your overconfident declaration."
These words were enough to make ten thousand armies tremble in fear and powerful ministers shake with trepidation. Yet the woman before him maintained her courage. After a long silence, she let out a long sigh. When she spoke again, her voice held only the serenity of one who had seen everything.
"To be born into this mortal world is already a punishment. Even if I did not dare to speak these words today, wars, droughts, floods, plagues, earthquakes, and mountain fires have never ceased. But we have survived, have we not? Perhaps we are far stronger than we imagine and do not need to pray day and night for the guidance and protection of gods and ghosts. How the order of this world operates should not be decided entirely by the unpredictable Heavens."
After a long while, laughter rang out in the carriage. The person reclining against the silk carpets and soft cushions turned back into the curious young master from their first meeting.
"Yan'er, did you hear what she just said? It seems I didn't make a mistake in coming here. Jiugao is indeed a fine place, a land of heroes and spirits, where even a village doctor is so interesting."
The driver finally seemed to come back to life, rubbing his hands as he echoed, "Young Master is right. Young Master is right about everything."
The young master curled his lip, clearly finding this soulless agreement boring. He turned his gaze back to the woman, his eyes still smiling, but his words fell like a thunderclap.
"Speak. What do you wish to ask of *Zhen*? I am in a good mood today and can grant you one wish."
Even though she had suspected and anticipated this, hearing the man himself speak those words made it impossible for Qin Jiuye to hide the surge of emotion in her heart. Her entire body began to tremble.
The entire region around Jiugao was under martial law. A carriage that could travel so openly at such a time had to belong to either fierce bandits or the government itself. Judging by the imperial bells and everything she had seen and heard since boarding, it could only be the latter.
Back then, Lin Fang had used the jade pendant in Liang Shi'an’s hand to deduce information about the Prince Xiaoning’s manor. Having followed Xu Qiuchi, she also knew something of the etiquette and regulations of the nobility. The young master’s clothes were simple in style, but a close look at the dark embroidery on the sleeves and collar revealed patterns she had never seen—strange in shape, yet extremely intricate and understated. Even if she didn't recognize those complex patterns, she could guess that the person before her held great power and was not a noble one would commonly see in a small place like Jiugao.
But right now, everyone in Jiugao was on edge. The high officials from the capital were avoiding it like the plague, wishing they could seize every carriage and boat leaving the city for fear of catching the "miasma." Why would one personally visit, let alone set foot inside? And Prince Yu'an had fought alongside Black Moon and Pingnan in the past and had personally experienced the Battle of Juchao; he certainly wouldn't be this young master who looked to be under twenty.
However, the most crucial point was the scent she had smelled upon entering the carriage. At first, she thought it was incense burning in the carriage, but then she realized it was the scent emanating from the other person’s clothes. Even though the *Cangying* Incense had weakened her sense of smell, and the other person had only scented their clothes, the aroma of top-grade *Qinan* agarwood was still pure and heavy, like entering an orchid garden. Years ago, when she followed her master south to Mo Ruhai, she had the honor of seeing a piece, but it was far inferior to the fragrance in this carriage. And this grade of *Qinan* was currently available in only one place in all of Xiangliang: the Imperial Palace in the capital.
Over the past few years, Qin Jiuye had trodden every inch of Zhizhu Mountain, a place from which not a drop of oil could be squeezed. She had saved countless martial artists and picked up many corpses, but she had never seen a "Golden Duck," let alone a "Silver" or "Bronze" one. Now, the Goddess of Wealth had finally heard her heart's cry, waving her golden scepter to send this "Jade-encrusted Gold" duck before her, even offering to grant her a wish. She was but a mortal; how she wanted to ask for a carriage full of gold and silver, and a courtyard full of chickens and ducks...
"What? Was that passionate speech not for this very moment? If you haven't thought of it, then forget it."
Perhaps her hesitation was too obvious, as the other person seemed to be growing impatient.
"Spring! I only need to wait until spring!" Qin Jiuye spoke hurriedly, fearing she would lose the chance forever if she waited another half-step. "This will not last long. As long as we wait for spring to arrive and the plants to begin growing, I am confident I can grow the Wild Fuzi. Without losing a single soldier, every problem will be solved. It will be the best outcome for those inside and outside the city."
"Spring..." The young Emperor changed his posture, looking out the window at the freezing world. "...Spring is a good season. But I have heard that the bamboo in the south sometimes flowers in the spring. I wonder if it will still be a good season for you?"
Despite her prior intuition, the moment the other person spoke the truth, Qin Jiuye couldn't help but feel a chill down her spine.
She should have expected that as the Emperor, his information would not be more limited than hers. He must have known about the impact of the bamboo blossoms long ago, which was why he had come south to personally oversee everything.
Everyone said the sacrificial ceremony in the capital had ended in a fiasco, that the Emperor was furious and had ordered an investigation, refusing to see his officials until the truth came out. Looking at it now, the young Emperor probably didn't care about the ceremony at all. He had used it as an opportunity to shed his golden shell, traveling in disguise to inspect the water disaster in the south. Prince Yu'an’s carriage was merely a distraction; the true Imperial carriage had already moved lightly and deeply into the region.
*Better to rely on oneself than on gods.* This young Emperor of Xiangliang believed in putting the people first, while his ministers used talk of gods and ghosts to seek profit for themselves. This was the true reason he disliked such talk. Her words about gods and mortals might have seemed bold, but they had actually struck a chord with the Emperor, moving him enough to give a commoner like her a chance.
Meeting the Emperor’s carriage was a miracle; daring to speak so boldly was no less than a massive gamble. Although she had won the bet, how could the heart of a sovereign be easily fathomed? He spoke those words to warn her not to be too clever or get too ahead of herself.
"Jiugao is a small place, but it is also a good place. As long as one is prepared, spring is naturally a good season."
She answered cautiously, only wanting to pass the test. The young master, however, clearly wanted more.
"One last question." He leaned in and lowered his voice, his narrowed eyes staring at her face like talons. "Do you not think that meeting *Zhen* here and now is perhaps the will of Heaven?"
Qin Jiuye did not answer immediately, but she felt cold sweat break out on her forehead.
If she denied the existence of gods and ghosts, she would seem to be denying the mercy of the one above her, and all his promises would become precarious.
If she admitted that there were indeed coincidences in this world manipulated by the inexplicable, then everything she had just passionately declared would become hypocrisy and deceit.
None of the crises and hardships she had faced before reaching this point were as terrifying as this moment. She felt so clearly that one wrong step would cause all her previous efforts and sacrifices to vanish like smoke.
The cold sweat gradually faded, leaving a slight chill. After a long while, Qin Jiuye gave a simple, unadorned smile.
"This humble one has done business in these mountains for several years. Every year, I spend at least a hundred days walking these rugged mountain paths. The Young Master merely happened to pass through here on one of those hundred days."
As her words fell, his gaze remained fixed on her, as if trying to bore a hole through her. But she did not look away. Finally, he pulled back all his emotions and burst into loud laughter.
The laughter drifted through the carriage into the mist, sounding both comical and strangely eerie.
After an unknown amount of time, he seemed to have laughed his fill. He straightened his posture, returning to the manner he had when they first met.
"The bells have been taken, and the story has been told. Is it not time for you to get off the carriage?"
*Get off?* If she got off, who would know she had been on the Emperor’s carriage? Who could prove the conversation that took place today? If he went back on his word later, what office could she go to for justice?
Qin Jiuye looked up in shock, stammering, "Y-Young Master is not afraid I will run away? Where would you find me then..."
The other person clearly knew what she was worried about, but he had no intention of humoring her. He only looked at her dumbfounded expression and smiled even more contentedly.
"There is no one in this world I cannot find. Yan'er, see the guest out."
As soon as he spoke, the driver’s head popped into the carriage. Before Qin Jiuye could react, she was tossed out like a bundle to the side of the road. When she looked up again, the carriage was already ten paces away.
"I don't know when I'll see the Young Master again! There must be a token as proof!"
She had no choice but to shout at the back of the carriage. As her words fell, she saw a hand reach out of the window and drop something.
The object rolled toward her on the muddy road. She picked it up and saw it was the walnut he had been rubbing. She used her sleeve to wipe away the mud, discovering it was actually a jade walnut.
Clutching the jade walnut, she shouted hoarsely, "Don't forget what you promised, Young Master!"
This time, there was no response from the carriage. Only the driver looked back once, his voice drifting intermittently through the mist.
"It’s snowing. Go home early, girl."
*Go home... Is it all over? Can I finally go home?*
Everything felt surreal, but the heavy stone that had been hanging over her could no longer be supported. The taut strings of her heart suddenly snapped, and Qin Jiuye was overcome by an unprecedented exhaustion.
She didn't know how long she stood there. When she turned around, she realized the world had become a vast expanse of white.
The falling snow had turned the entire mountain silver. She couldn't see the path she had come from, and she forgot where she was going. But something seemed to be guiding her in a certain direction. She followed it, dragging her weary, stiff feet by instinct, leaving a crooked trail in that perfect, flawless white.
It was an invisible trail, one she had walked countless times. One end was her, and the other was a humble but warm home.
The mist vanished in an instant, revealing the small village softly covered in white snow.
Everything looked familiar, yet somehow different. It was as if the world had been washed clean of all impurities. The leaky roof tiles were hidden, the crooked wooden fence looked whimsical and cute, and even the muddy path had become pure white. She stepped into this world as quiet and pure as a dream.
A different color entered her vision. She looked down and saw dots of red blooming in the white.
It was a trail of bloody footprints, crooked and faint, leading toward the dilapidated courtyard at the end of the path.
The heavy breathing from her trek through the mountains suddenly intensified. She forced herself to take a breath and quicken her pace. The fresh snow crunched under her feet as she followed those red dots, stumbling and running toward the end of the white expanse.
She passed the path with the wild peach trees, the half-collapsed stone archway, the bare melon fields, and the large rock with the lilac tree. She stepped over the rickety wooden fence, and the familiar brushwood gate finally appeared at the end of the white.
Her steps suddenly stopped. Her gaze lingered on the shadow beneath the gate.
It seemed to be a person, clutching a blade, leaning against the brushwood gate, curled up under the sign for *Guoran Ju*. He was motionless, as if asleep. Snow had already piled on his hair and shoulders, merging his figure with the dilapidated courtyard behind him.
She didn't dare take another step forward. Something more terrifying than exhaustion and cold seized her feet, making her entire body stiffen. Even the flow of her blood seemed to slow.
It was as if only the two of them remained in the world, just like that night of torrential rain.
Only this time, she no longer had the courage to step forward and confirm anything.
The snow continued to fall, neither more timid nor more brave because of what was happening. It seemed that if she just stayed here, everything could remain as it was before the sorrow was triggered.
Suddenly, something fell gently.
It was the snow on his brow.
He opened his eyes and looked at her through the white world.
He seemed to have been waiting there for a long time, yet it also seemed like a simple wait on an ordinary evening. And she happened to appear at the end of that white path the moment he looked up, running toward him step by step.
He saw the spring mud soaking into the rain beneath her feet, the soft grass groomed by the spring breeze brushing against her clothes. He saw the rain overflowing into rivers and lakes behind her, turning into deep green shadows of trees condensing on her brow. He saw heavy ears of grain falling, and colorful withered leaves dancing in her hair.
He watched her step from early spring into midsummer, from late autumn into the bitter winter. He watched her cross the wind and snow, walking toward him with steady steps, finally grasping his cold hand.
Just like in that long dream.
"Let's go home."
(End of Main Story)
***
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