Chapter Sixty-Eight: The Challenge

The two who arrived were none other than Hongshun and Hongtao. Having noticed that Zhang Qing’er had not returned to her room for quite some time, a sense of unease overcame them. Anxiously, they began searching the vicinity, questioning many people and scouring every corner, yet Zhang Qing’er was nowhere to be found.

With no other choice, they continued their search along the riverbank for several miles. In the distance, they caught sight of a solitary figure, whose silhouette bore a striking resemblance to their young lady. Elated, they hurried toward the figure. However, as they drew near, both were stunned into silence.

Zhang Qing’er’s complexion was ashen, her once-pristine white dress now speckled with blood. Fearing her injuries had worsened, they urgently called out in unison, “Quick, go find Brother Wuyou!” With a brief nod, Hongshun stayed to protect Zhang Qing’er while Hongtao turned and sprinted toward Miao Village.

“Come back here! You come back here!” Zhang Qing’er suddenly propped herself against a tree and stood up, her face displaying an authority they had never witnessed before.

Hongtao had only run a few steps when Zhang Qing’er’s stern command halted him in his tracks. He turned, puzzled, uncertain of her intentions.

“Do not fetch Che Wuyou. I do not need his help.”

Hongtao wished to persuade her otherwise, knowing that recurring injuries could be serious and that it was best to have Che Wuyou examine her. But faced with Zhang Qing’er’s icy expression, he opened his mouth yet dared not utter a word.

“We’re going home. We leave at once,” Zhang Qing’er said calmly, her tone brooking no argument.

“But, Miss, your wounds…” Hongshun could not help but protest. Their sect master had entrusted this young lady to their care—should any mishap befall her while in their charge, the consequences would be dire.

“How dare you defy me? You’ve got some nerve!” Zhang Qing’er, mustering strength from who knows where, pointed at Hongshun and berated him with uncharacteristic force.

“I wouldn’t dare…” Hongshun, startled by her overpowering presence, felt as though he were facing Sect Leader Zhang Da himself. He lowered his head, responding with utmost caution.

Though still young, Zhang Qing’er wielded real power within the Xuanqing Sect. If she chose to hold a grudge, Hongshun’s very life could be forfeit. Wisely, he chose immediate obedience, even if she were in the wrong.

Thus, Zhang Qing’er and her companions departed as quietly as they had come, not alerting a single soul in Miao Village. Only when they had traveled several dozen miles away did a lovely young girl pause atop a high mound. With lingering affection and reluctance, she turned to gaze back at the now-distant, blurred Miao Village. At last, with a soft sigh, she turned her back and left, never to look back.

Early next morning, before dawn, a dim lamp cast its faint glow in a small, shadowy room.

Che Wuyou pored over a medicinal formula, his expression weary. After a long while, he stretched his arms and stifled a yawn. He shook his head, resigned—working late into the night while injured was no pleasure, yet the chance to memorize another recipe or to grasp another principle of medicine made every hardship worthwhile.

Che Wuyou picked up a refreshing pill from the table and popped it into his mouth, then returned to his study of the formula.

“Fool, it’s snowing outside! It’s snowing! Come out and see!” A joyful voice abruptly interrupted his thoughts. Che Wuyou was momentarily startled, yet instead of showing annoyance, a rare smile appeared on his face. Lan Zhi had come, and it was snowing outside—how curious, for it to snow in Jizhou.

He hurriedly pushed open the door, and a blast of cold air cleared his mind. The world outside was a wintry wonderland, blanketed in pure white, as if the whole earth were clad in silver. Never in his life had Che Wuyou witnessed snow; he was mesmerized by the sight. Yet what captivated him most was the young woman dancing in the snow, her laughter ringing out as she chased the falling flakes. He gazed at the snow, at the girl within it, lost in a daze.

Noticing his silence, Liu Lanzhi turned to look at him and found him staring fixedly at her. Recalling what she had said to him the day before, her cheeks flushed hotly, and a wave of nervous heat swept over her. To hide her embarrassment, she stamped her foot and scolded, “Fool, what are you doing?”

Che Wuyou came to his senses and, seeing her glare, stammered, “N-no, I was just… watching the snow. Just the snow.”

The snow fell thicker and thicker, drifting down like petals. Liu Lanzhi spread her arms wide, frolicking like a joyous fairy, snatching at the snowflakes as they fell. Her clear laughter rang across the snow-covered ground. “It hasn’t snowed in the southern frontier for years; this is my first time seeing snow. How beautiful the snowflakes are!”

“It’s beautiful—so beautiful,” Che Wuyou echoed, gazing at Liu Lanzhi with wonder.

Hearing the odd note in his voice, Liu Lanzhi turned, only to see that he was looking at her as he spoke of beauty. Flustered, she replied, “Nonsense! I am not beautiful at all.”

Yet, sensing she’d said too much, she shot him a glare and added coldly, “Wuyou, if you keep talking nonsense, I’ll tell Master.” With that, she stormed off, leaving Che Wuyou dumbfounded in her wake.

But as Liu Lanzhi walked away, a secret smile tugged at her lips—let him talk nonsense and see if he dares do it again.

Che Wuyou, of course, was oblivious to all this. Seeing her cold expression, he grew uneasy. “What’s wrong with me, saying such foolish things? Though she promised she’d marry me when we grew up, we’re both still young. Such things should remain unspoken for now, and yet I lost myself and said something so improper. No wonder she’s angry.”

Consumed by regret, Che Wuyou dared not speak further and simply trailed behind Liu Lanzhi in silence.

As the two walked on, a voice suddenly called out from behind, “Little Sister! Wait for me!”

Turning, they saw someone hurrying toward them through the snow, a warm smile on his lips. Against the backdrop of swirling flakes, his handsome face appeared almost ethereal. It was Han Feng, whom they hadn’t seen for several days.

Since his humiliating mistake a few days past, Han Feng had been avoiding everyone, even dodging his fellow disciples from afar. Why he now abandoned his evasions and instead approached them, Che Wuyou could not fathom.

Liu Lanzhi hesitated, then smiled. “So it’s Senior Han. What brings you here? Are you out admiring the snow?”

“Yes, it’s been years since it’s snowed in the southern frontier. Such scenery is rare indeed.” Han Feng put on an air of nonchalance, then glanced at Che Wuyou with a slight sneer. “Ah, it’s Junior Che. You’ve brought honor to Miao Village this time. But while your skills in alchemy are commendable, do you know how to appreciate snow? It’s a refined pursuit—shall I teach you?”

Hearing the sarcasm in his words, Liu Lanzhi frowned. Before she could respond, Che Wuyou said evenly, “Lan Zhi, let’s go. I truly don’t know how to appreciate snow.”

“So you think yourself impressive with your little alchemy tricks? You don’t even greet your senior, and now you just walk away?” Jealousy flared in Han Feng’s voice as he saw Liu Lanzhi preparing to leave with Che Wuyou.

“Is there something you wish to say, Senior? If not, I’ll take my leave,” Che Wuyou replied, his back still to Han Feng, making no move to turn around. He was no longer the same Che Wuyou who once tread carefully around Han Feng; now, he could ignore him entirely.

“Junior Che, I see you wear a sword at your waist—are your sword skills as distinguished as your alchemy? Forgive me, but I’ve never heard you mention swordsmanship, nor has anyone else. How remiss of me! Ha, ha, ha!” Han Feng laughed with deliberate arrogance.

“My apologies, Junior, but I simply couldn’t help myself. I’ve always thought you an honest sort, but now you resort to such pretenses, wearing a sword as if you knew how to wield it. Ha, ha, ha!”

“Is it so funny? If you doubt my swordsmanship, Senior, perhaps you’d care to instruct me. Do you have the interest—or the courage?” A sudden, nameless fury surged in Che Wuyou’s heart, old grievances flooding his mind. Scenes of Han Feng’s past bullying flashed before him, each one etched as if by a blade—deep and unforgettable. The more he recalled, the stronger his rage grew, until it could no longer be contained. Such a humiliation—if I, Che Wuyou, do not repay it, I am no man.

“Very well! You’ve got spirit, challenging your senior like this. Excellent… Let’s see just how capable you truly are, you arrogant whelp!”