The summit of Mount Li was blanketed in white snow, yet Li Chao Yang's robes seemed even whiter than the ice and frost.
Today, she hadn’t arrived by carriage but stood quietly beneath a snow-laden tree, her hands clasped behind her back, lost in thought.
The whistling wind dark steed grazed on roots in the distance, then suddenly raised its head, sensing movement. It watched as the Fierce Cloud Colt descended soundlessly.
"...Qianqiao."
Li Chao Yang’s voice was low, hollow, as she called his name. She turned, her dark eyes meeting his.
Lu Qianqiao walked steadily toward her before kneeling slowly. "Mother."
She seemed pleased with his current state, a rare hint of a smile flickering across her icy expression—only to vanish in an instant.
"Worthy of being my son, Li Chao Yang’s."
When his transformation had failed, she had been bitterly disappointed, suppressing her killing intent as she returned to the clan. She had even considered forgetting she had this only son. For the War Ghost Clan, her age of forty-five was not considered old. Remarrying and bearing another pure-blooded child would not have been difficult. The clan elders often urged her to wed another pure-blooded War Ghost of equal standing. In the past, she had ignored them, but after Lu Qianqiao’s failed transformation, she had no choice but to seriously consider the matter.
Yet... after all, he was her child—hers and his . In the end, he had not let her down.
"Not just yours. He was Lu Jing Ran’s too."
Lu Qianqiao stood, his voice indifferent.
Li Chao Yang did not flare in anger, only stared at him steadily. "You already know, then. That I slaughtered the entire Lu family. Your father was the last to die—I watched as his breath left him in my hands."
She had met Lu Jing Ran at seventeen, their love fraught with hardship. At eighteen, she withstood immense pressure from the clan to marry him. By twenty, she had given birth to Lu Qianqiao. A family of three—harmonious, beautiful.
Yet she had never learned to speak those sweet, tender words. She could not mend his shoes or clothes, could not cook for him, could not play with their child. On the battlefield, amid danger, she would have given her life to protect the man she loved. But in the quiet, mundane routines of daily life, she was helpless—never the good wife he had envisioned.
Lu Jing Ran had always doubted her love. No normal woman was like her. Perhaps she could never be a normal woman.
Then, at twenty-five, she underwent the Transformation Tribulation—and awakened as a Perfect War Devil, a rarity seen once in a century.
When she swung her halberd and bathed the Lu household in blood, Lu Jing Ran had stood beneath the crimson-stained walls, smiling at her strangely.
That smile—so warm, so sorrowful, so dazed, so liberated.
Even now, she could not forget it. The grief of killing him had nearly faded from memory, but that smile remained.
"It’s alright. Come here." He had said, opening his arms as if to embrace her. "Chao Yang, give me release. Set me free."
All he had wanted was liberation.
The halberd obeyed his wish, slicing through flesh, piercing his body, pinning him to the wall.
Cradling his head in her hands, she watched as his breath left him. That faint, indistinct pain in her heart—she did not understand it.He was free, and so was she. Returning to the clan, she elevated the status of the Li family considerably with the formidable strength of a Perfect War Ghost. The old emperor of Qiong Kingdom had heard of the might of the War Ghosts. Though he had confiscated Lu Jing Ran's property, he never dared to seek her out. It wasn't until the new emperor ascended the throne that Lu Jing Ran was rehabilitated—likely as a gesture of goodwill—and she was granted the title of Lady. The young Lu Qianqiao, then only thirteen, was also taken in and appointed General of Chariots and Cavalry. By fifteen, he had earned military merits and was promoted to General of Agile Cavalry.
She had killed the man she loved and had even considered killing the child she shared with him—a Hybrid War Ghost, whose chances of surviving the Transformation Tribulation were slim, let alone evolving into a Perfect War Ghost.
Yet she couldn’t bring herself to do it, and even she didn’t understand why.
Perhaps it was because Qianqiao’s nose resembled that man’s? Or the occasional expression that mirrored his? Was she... regretting killing him?
The clan elders often proposed finding her another marriage match, sending over proposals, but she shelved them all.
For the sake of reviving the War Ghost Clan, she was willing to do anything. Marriage, logically, should have been no exception. Marrying a pure-blooded War Ghost and bearing pure-blooded children—that was what she ought to do.
But she couldn’t.
She just couldn’t. No reason, no explanation.
“I once thought of killing that girl,” Li Chao Yang said, turning her back and walking slowly forward. “But Qianqiao, you are stronger than I was—you didn’t act. To be honest, I don’t wish to see such things happen again. So, I won’t lay a hand on her or the Imperial Mausoleum.”
One instance of killing a loved one was enough. As for his child—she couldn’t offer him the greatest happiness, but she didn’t want him to experience her loneliness either. As an unfit mother, this was all she could do.
“However, my inaction doesn’t mean I’ll indulge your recklessness.” She stopped and turned back, her eyes already crimson.
“I’ve given you and her—and that meddlesome Youhu monk—over half a month. I won’t grant you any more time, not even a day. You must return to the clan with me. Whether you see her or not is your choice. Whether this marriage continues is also your affair. But you must return. The Youhu Clan has grown intolerable lately, and I can no longer endure it. We must find a way to eradicate them.”
A bunch of fur-covered beasts, yet they dared to claim descent from the Heavenly Gods, even declaring that the War Ghost Clan had served the Heavenly Gods since ancient times and thus should submit to the Youhu Clan.
War Ghosts fear no provocation, nor will they tolerate any.
Lu Qianqiao remained silent, his grip on the long whip gradually loosening.
He had imagined a fierce battle, one where either she or he would perish. He had also thought she might fly into a rage at the mere mention of Lu Jing Ran’s name.
But he hadn’t expected things to unfold like this.
Li Chao Yang’s profile was bathed in the crimson glow of the setting sun. He couldn’t decipher the expression on her face—was it regret? Relief? Or... something else?
Turning away, he gazed quietly at the sinking sun on the horizon, its molten gold light staining the clouds blood-red. He thought of Xin Mei’s carefree smile.
The yolk-like sun finally dipped below the edge. Xin Mei stood at the cliff, rubbing her cold hands together.Was Lu Qianqiao late today, or had she arrived too early? There wasn’t a single figure on the opposite cliff. She was worried the food in the lunchbox would get cold—even though it was lined with charcoal, it would still cool if left too long. Cold Tofu Xinmei wasn’t very tasty!
Poor Qiu Yue had been rushed relentlessly to Changgeng Pass, so exhausted that it curled up into a ball to sleep the moment it landed, impossible to wake.
The biting wind at the cliff’s edge carried remnants of snow, and Xin Mei, shivering uncontrollably, could only hop around to keep warm.
Damn it, Lu Qianqiao hadn’t come, and that faceless fake monk from Youhu was nowhere to be seen either. As the sky darkened, the lights within Changgeng Pass blazed brightly, the aroma of various dishes mingling with the laughter of soldiers. Cold and hungry, she couldn’t take it anymore and cupped her hands around her mouth, resorting to an ancient and practical tactic—shouting at the top of her lungs.
“Lu Qianqiao—! Why are you late again—?”
No one answered. No one came.
“Lu Qianqiao—!”
She called again.
Suddenly, the neighing of a horse rang out overhead. Xin Mei quickly looked up and saw the long-absent whistling wind dark steed, its hooves crackling with lightning, high above her. The woman in white on its back… seemed to be her rather short-tempered mother-in-law!
She darted into the bushes faster than a rabbit.
Was she here to kill her? Scold her? Break them apart? Or… something else she couldn’t even guess?
The War Ghost’s wife on horseback didn’t look at her, didn’t dismount, didn’t speak—she merely tossed down an object the size of a palm, which landed right at Xin Mei’s feet with a crisp clink.
It was an ancient bronze plaque, weathered with patina, carved with simple, archaic patterns.
Xin Mei cautiously glanced up at her, then down at the plaque, hesitantly picking it up, utterly baffled by her mother-in-law’s intentions.
“The gate key.”
Li Chao Yang succinctly stated its purpose in just four words.
What gate? Before Xin Mei could ask for clarification, the whistling wind dark steed let out another long neigh and galloped away, leaving her bewildered in the bushes, unsure whether to chase or stay put.
“Xin Mei.”
Lu Qianqiao’s voice finally came from the opposite cliff. Xin Mei scrambled out, only to see him not as usual—with his hair loose and in his sleepwear—but draped in a black cloak, his hair neatly tied, a long whip at his waist, and most shockingly… riding Fierce Cloud Colt!
“Lu Qianqiao… you—you’re leaving?”
She was stunned.
Lu Qianqiao gazed at her deeply. Today, she wore a pale yellow silk dress, looking somewhat frail. The cold wind on the cliff flushed her cheeks rosy while her lips paled slightly.
Silently, he unfastened his cloak and tossed it over, landing perfectly on her shoulders.
“…Go back early. Don’t catch a cold.”
The cloak was large and long, carrying his warmth and scent. Xin Mei instinctively wrapped it tighter around herself, still dazed as she asked, “You’re leaving? Where to?”
“I’m returning to my clan.” He glanced at the bronze plaque in her hand and hesitated. “That’s the gate key… so no one will stop or harm you if you come to the clan. But… it’s best if you don’t.”
She didn’t care about gates or keys anymore.
“Why… why are you leaving so suddenly?”So no more meetings by the cliff after this? She had specially made Tofu Xinmei today... and wore her newly tailored silk skirt... She still hadn’t gotten to touch his gaunt hands and face...
“There are some matters in the clan.”
He gazed at her quietly—such a familiar look, the kind she couldn’t understand, that suffocating stare.
Xin Mei thought for a moment: “Then when can you come back?”
Silence. Finally, he spoke: “Perhaps... a long time.”
“How long is a long time? A month? Half a year? Or a year?”
“...I don’t know.”
“Can you come back once a month? I’ll wait for you at the Imperial Mausoleum.”
He looked at her for a long, long time, longer than all the silences before, so long she thought he wouldn’t answer. Then suddenly, he said: “...Alright, I’ll try.”
Xin Mei slowly smiled, then suddenly remembered something. She pulled out the crumpled letter Zhao Guanren had given her from her sleeve and waved it at him: “You must come back! Everyone’s waiting for you! This is the letter they asked me to bring you!”
His expression softened: “Keep it for me. Next time... I’ll read it at home.”
“Okay! Then you must, must come back!”
“Mm.”
Fierce Cloud Colt reared up and leaped from the cliff, riding the wind.
Li Chao Yang was still waiting ahead. The longer he delayed, the harder it would be to leave. Partings were always like this—only a swift, clean cut could prevent hesitation.
But... he didn’t want Fierce Cloud Colt to fly so fast. After a stretch, he turned back for a glance. She was still holding the food box, chasing after him in the snow, waving vigorously. The oversized cloak hung limply over her shoulders, as if it might slip off at any moment. A trail of blurred footprints stretched far across the snow.
“Lu Qianqiao—! You must come back—!”
She shouted with all her might.
She always called him by his full name like this—no lingering tenderness, yet it etched itself deep into his bones.
The white mist at his lips blurred his vision. An uncontrollable impulse surged within his iron-like body.
I can’t go forward. I can’t take another step. The voice in his heart was soft but resolute.
Fierce Cloud Colt let out a fierce neigh and turned back, landing just at the edge of the woods.
Xin Mei abruptly stopped chasing, her eyes wide as she watched him dismount—slowly at first, then faster, until he was sprinting.
The cold air carried his long-missed scent as it rushed toward her.
He spread his arms and pulled her into a tight embrace.
A hug thirty autumns overdue.
“...Come with me!”
His voice hoarse, he lifted her in one swift motion and strode back toward the cliff.
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