Love and Crown

After bidding farewell to Xiao Qianqing, I packed the essentials and set off for Tianshan.

Leaving the capital, crossing the Yin Mountains, and entering the frontier through the Jade Gate, I followed the narrow ancient Silk Road.

From the moment I departed the capital, snow began to fall—first scattered flakes, intermittent and sparse, then heavy snow like goose feathers. By dusk on the fourth day, the blizzard raged like madness, howling as it swept across the land, whipping up the accumulated snow and hurling it into the vast desert.

The horse struggled through the storm, the fine salt-like snow forcing its way into my clothes through the collar and hem. The edges of my hood lashed against my forehead like knife cuts, and beyond five paces ahead, everything was a white void.

After trudging through such snow for half a shichen, I finally reached a relay station before nightfall. The sight of the stone house amid the storm brought me relief.

After tethering my horse in the stable, I entered the travelers’ resting hut, where a charcoal fire burned and the room was crowded with people seeking shelter from the storm. I slipped inside and took a seat in an inconspicuous corner.

This was a borderland region, a place where martial artists of the Martial World were active, and all sorts of people gathered. After I entered, the travelers merely glanced at me before resuming their conversations.

Around the fire farther from me sat a group wearing felt hats and riding boots, their features sharp and prominent—likely merchants from the Western Regions. Closer to me was a group dressed in the fashion of the Central Plains, chatting idly about the most talked-about event in the Martial World: the conflict between the Central Plains Martial World and the Tianshan Sect.

A swordsman by the fire poked at the embers and asked, “In your esteemed opinions, which side has the upper hand in this battle between the Central Plains Martial World and the Tianshan Sect?”

The gaunt old man beside him, holding a long-stemmed pipe, took a slow drag before answering, “Who can say?”

Opposite the old man sat a fair-faced young swordsman, who immediately added, “Hasn’t Mr. Bai of Phoenix Come Pavilion already led his forces to the Western Regions? Getting the Tianshan Sect to surrender shouldn’t be too difficult.”

The bearded man beside the young swordsman gave a faint, mocking laugh. “Bai Chi Fan? He’s no celestial general. The Shaolin, Wudang, and seven major sword sects, along with a fraction of Phoenix Come Pavilion’s forces, marched arrogantly into the Western Regions—only to be trapped at the foot of Bogda Peak for over three months. Not only have they suffered losses, but they haven’t even managed to lay a finger on the Old Monster of Tianshan. Now that Bai Chi Fan has arrived, do you think the Old Monster will just surrender?”

The young swordsman’s face flushed. “Hero Fu, I never said Mr. Bai was a celestial general, nor did I claim the Old Monster would surrender the moment he arrived. I only meant that with Mr. Bai here, the odds would improve.” As he spoke, he sought agreement from the old man who had spoken earlier. “Old Ji, don’t you think so?”

The gaunt old man took another slow drag from his pipe before speaking deliberately. “The Old Monster of Tianshan, leader of the Tianshan Sect, has held her ground on Tianshan for over twenty years. The depth of her skills remains unknown—no one who has faced her has walked away unscathed, either dead or injured.

“Though the Central Plains Martial World has numbers and elites, Tianshan’s terrain is treacherous, with cliffs and passes easily defended. Add to that the bitter cold, which most from the Central Plains can’t endure. In my humble opinion, the final outcome is far from certain.” He finished slowly, then suddenly glanced at the young swordsman. “Young Hero Wen, do you have friends or family in Phoenix Come Pavilion?”The young swordsman nodded: "I have a good friend in the Phoenix Come Pavilion. According to him, their Pavilion Master is the most amiable person, always leading by example in any situation. He is deeply respected by everyone in the pavilion. A few months ago, I was fortunate enough to witness Mr. Bai's demeanor—his refined speech and elegant bearing are truly unparalleled, making people like us both envious and admiring."

The sallow-faced man who had been silently huddled by the fire suddenly lifted his head and let out a disdainful snort. "Unparalleled elegance? Have you ever seen that Bai's ruthless and despicable face when he slaughters the innocent?"

The young swordsman frowned in displeasure. "Senior Mu, why must you speak so harshly? Could it be that you resent Mr. Bai for his fame at such a young age?"

"What do you mean by that?" The sallow-faced man abruptly sat up straight, raising his voice. "Are you suggesting that I, Mu, am jealous of that Bai?"

Seeing his anger, the young swordsman felt somewhat embarrassed but still scoffed lightly. "What you truly mean, Senior Mu, you know best in your heart."

The sallow-faced man slammed his palm against the edge of the fire basin, laughing in fury. "Even if I were to envy a dog or a pig, I wouldn't envy that sickly weakling! Young Hero Wen, the Mr. Bai you admire is nothing but a bedridden invalid. On this trip to the Western Regions, forget about slaying the Old Monster of Tianshan—he’ll probably die of illness before he even gets there!"

The young swordsman also grew angry. "Senior Mu, your words are far too venomous. Has Mr. Bai ever offended you? Even if his health has always been poor, it’s hardly as dire as you claim!"

The sallow-faced man sneered. "Offended me? That Bai has never offended me, but he—" He suddenly cut himself off, his tone shifting coldly. "You don’t know, do you? Your precious Mr. Bai has been hiding in his carriage ever since the Phoenix Come Pavilion set out from Jinling, too afraid to even show his face. I’d say he’s already at death’s door—"

Bang! A bullet grazed the sallow-faced man’s forehead, leaving a bloody streak along his hairline before embedding itself in the wall behind him.

I blew the smoke from my gun barrel and stood up with a smile. "Martial brother, as the young hero said, it’s best not to be too sharp-tongued."

At the sight of the gun in my hand, the young swordsman’s eyes suddenly lit up. "A pistol! You must be Miss Ling, Mr. Bai’s personal disciple! Truly living up to your reputation!"

Keeping my expression cold, I addressed the sallow-faced man. "I don’t care what grudge you hold against our Pavilion Master, but in the Martial World, one doesn’t make a name for themselves by running their mouth. Instead of venting your frustrations with curses, why not draw your sword and face him openly? Even if you die in the attempt, people will at least praise your courage."

The sallow-faced man stared at me in shock. I holstered my gun and sat back down. Aside from the young swordsman’s admiring gaze, the others around the fire also turned their eyes to me, each lost in their own thoughts.

Leaning against the wall, I closed my eyes to rest. After a long silence, the group gradually resumed their conversation. They spoke repeatedly about the losses suffered by Shaolin, Wudang, and the Seven Great Sword Sects ahead, but not another word was mentioned about the Phoenix Come Pavilion.As the atmosphere grew lively, the young swordsman forgot his earlier displeasure and enthusiastically joined the discussion. Only the green-faced man remained silent—I didn’t hear him speak another word all night.

The night passed quickly. By dawn, the fierce winds had gradually calmed, though the heavy snowflakes still fell ceaselessly from the sky. Even so, it was barely possible to continue the journey.

Most of the people at the post station chose to stay in the cottage for safety, waiting for the snow to stop. I ate some of the dry rations I’d brought with me, filled a leather flask with scalding hot liquor, and hurried back on the road.

Last night, I had asked the post station official and studied the map, only then realizing that this place was already close to Hami.

According to the message Hong Qing had sent via his hunting falcon yesterday, their group had just arrived in Hami. Given the severity of last night’s storm, they likely wouldn’t have traveled further. If I pushed hard today, I could probably catch up with them.

With my mind made up, I spared no effort in urging my horse forward, galloping at full speed.

By noon, after passing a camp of Kazakh herders, I unexpectedly spotted fresh bloodstains and scattered swords in the snow. A little further ahead, I saw several fallen Snow-Robed People by the roadside. The sounds of battle from behind the hill ahead grew clearer, so I quickly spurred my horse forward.

As I neared the hill, I heard a familiar voice: “Xiaoqian, leave one alive.”

In the clearing behind the hill, Xiao Huan sat in a wooden wheelchair, wrapped in white fox fur, with Shi Yan standing behind him holding an umbrella. Beside them, disciples of the Phoenix Come Pavilion were locked in combat with the Snow-Robed People. My sudden appearance drew their gazes.

Both Xiao Huan and Shi Yan froze for a moment. In that instant, a Snow-Robed warrior near the wheelchair seized the opportunity and hurled his sword at Xiao Huan.

The distance was too close, and the attack too sudden. Though Shi Yan managed to deflect the sword with a palm strike, its tip still grazed Xiao Huan’s cheek, leaving a thin trail of blood.

A bullet roared from my gun barrel, striking the Snow-Robed warrior in the right shoulder. Crimson instantly bloomed across his white robes as he collapsed face-first into the snow.

I rode through the battlefield, dismounting before the wheelchair. Gripping Xiao Huan’s chin, I turned his face to inspect it. “How bad is it? Will it scar?”

Beneath the paper umbrella, his brows furrowed as if in disbelief, his dark pupils veiled in mist. “Cang Cang?”

Seeing that the wound on his cheek wasn’t deep—unlikely to leave a scar once healed—I wiped away the blood with my thumb before releasing him. With my gun, I forced several Snow-Robed warriors back. “What, Master isn’t happy to see his disciple come to his aid?”

Behind me, he let out a soft “Hmm.” The snow fell silently over the blood-soaked battlefield. From the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of the wheelchair beneath him—jarringly conspicuous.

Though the Snow-Robed People outnumbered us, few among them were true experts.

The Phoenix Come Pavilion, though fewer in number, were all elite members of the sect. They quickly turned the tide of battle.

Watching Su Qian and Hong Qing weave effortlessly through the enemy ranks, I stood beside Xiao Huan and asked, “How is Master’s health?”

He replied, “I’m fine.”

I knew he’d say that. Smiling, I said, “Good thing I arrived in time. Otherwise, it would’ve been too careless of me to miss such a big event by Master’s side.”He looked up at me and smiled, but his deep eyes seemed somewhat unfocused. "It's nothing. You still have matters to attend to in the capital, so I didn’t have anyone inform you."

I nodded, feeling a bit puzzled. Xiao Huan didn’t seem to know that it was Hong Qing who had told me about their itinerary. Did that mean Hong Qing had secretly sent me the message behind Xiao Huan’s back?

But although Xiao Huan trusted his subordinates completely, given his meticulous nature, it was impossible that he hadn’t noticed Hong Qing sending messengers back and forth multiple times.

As I was pondering this, Su Qian and the others had already driven back the Snow-Robed People. Su Qian walked over and kicked the shoulder of one of the Snow-Robed People I had earlier shot with my gun. "Stop pretending to be dead. Get up."

The man didn’t just fail to get up—he didn’t even move.

When I had first wounded him, he had been trembling and convulsing, but now he had suddenly gone still.

I crouched down and pulled the man up by his collar. His face emerged from the snow, veins bulging grotesquely, his skin an eerie blue-green. I couldn’t help but gasp.

Xiao Huan leaned slightly forward, one hand gripping the armrest of his wheelchair, the other grasping my wrist. "Don’t touch his skin." Then he asked, "What color is his face?"

Still somewhat dazed, I quickly answered, "Blue—no, blue tinged with green, like the color of a peacock’s feather."

Xiao Huan frowned. "Peacock Powder?"

"The ones we captured earlier died the same way. They must have taken poison when they realized the situation was hopeless," Hong Qing reported as he approached.

"So resolute—they’d rather die than be captured?" Xiao Huan’s frown deepened, and he coughed lightly a few times. "These aren’t from the Tianshan Sect. From here on out, we must be extra vigilant."

Hong Qing cupped his hands in acknowledgment, and everyone went to reorganize their belongings for the journey ahead.

I glanced down at Xiao Huan’s hand, still wrapped around my wrist. His wrist and fingers were slender and bony, as if carved from ice, devoid of any color—much like his face now, pale and serene as snow, yet faintly exuding an air of desolation.

As if sensing my gaze, Xiao Huan seemed to snap out of it and released my hand, offering a faint smile. "My apologies. I forgot."

I stood up with a laugh. "Master, you’re too polite."

He smiled but didn’t respond, coughing lightly again.

Shi Yan, who had been holding the umbrella, interjected flatly, "The wind and snow are heavy. Young Master, please board the carriage." His tone still carried thick hostility toward me.

It was just like Shi Yan—while everyone else had switched to calling Xiao Huan "Pavilion Master," he stubbornly refused. Unable to call him "Your Majesty" or "Crown Prince," he had settled on this compromise.

The carriage parked by the roadside was not only lined with fur on its doors, windows, and roof but was also spacious and tall.

Seeing this carriage, I finally understood why the Phoenix Come Pavilion, known for its swift movements, was traveling so slowly this time. With such a luxurious and cumbersome carriage in tow, this pace was practically miraculous.

The wheelchair stopped before the wooden steps. Shi Yan closed the umbrella, and Xiao Huan gripped his arm, slowly rising to his feet. He ascended the steps, steadied himself against the carriage door, and stepped inside.

Watching from the side, I finally asked Su Qian, "Master can still walk, can’t he? Why is he using a wheelchair?"

Su Qian glanced at me but didn’t answer.

By the time I mounted my horse, I could faintly hear muffled coughing coming from inside the carriage.Apart from Xiao Huan, who boarded the carriage, everyone else followed on horseback.

Shi Yan and Hong Qing, riding ahead of the carriage, deliberately slowed their pace. But after only a short while, the leather curtain of the carriage was lifted slightly, and Xiao Huan’s faint voice tossed out two words: “Full speed.”

Shi Yan and Hong Qing exchanged a glance before reluctantly tightening their grip on the reins and urging their horses forward at full gallop.

Traveling at such a breakneck pace, we reached a small town inhabited by Uyghur people before nightfall.

Exhausted from the journey, everyone breathed a sigh of relief upon arrival and quickly settled into the post station to rest and eat.

After tethering my horse, I noticed Shi Yan standing alone outside the station, his expression troubled as he stared at the carriage parked at the entrance.

The coachman had long since disappeared, and the horses had been unhitched to rest, yet Xiao Huan still hadn’t stepped out.

I walked over and asked, “What’s wrong?”

Shi Yan answered succinctly, “No movement.” Then, as if finally making up his mind, he strode toward the carriage door. “I’ll check.”

I stopped him with a hand. “Let me.”

Quickly stepping forward, I climbed onto the carriage and lifted the leather curtain. As expected, the first thing that hit me was the heavy scent of medicinal herbs. Taking a deep breath, I surveyed the interior.

Though no natural light reached inside, several oil lamps fixed to the walls illuminated the space.

Xiao Huan was slumped over the wooden table inside, his eyes tightly shut, his head resting on an unfolded map. One hand hung limply beneath the table, while the other clutched a handkerchief pressed to his lips.

He had passed out. I exhaled, then bent down to carefully lift his head and cradle it against my chest. After moving the table aside, I spread out a fox fur blanket and gently laid him down.

The moment his body was straightened, as if his cramped circulation had suddenly been restored, he shuddered violently. A muffled cough escaped his lips, and he frowned slightly, curling in on himself as the hand holding the handkerchief pressed tightly against his mouth.

Dark red spots seeped into the fabric, and his body trembled violently with each cough. I hurriedly lifted his shoulders to prop him up slightly.

Once seated upright, he lowered the handkerchief and coughed softly a few times before finally drawing a deep breath and opening his eyes with effort to look at me. “Xiaoqian?”

Afraid to hold him too tightly, I replied, “Master, it’s me.”

He coughed again and managed a faint smile. “Cang Cang.”

I fetched a cushion and placed it behind him for support, then carefully released his shoulders, steadying his body while gently rubbing his chest to help him regulate his breathing. Only when the faint flush on his cheeks faded back to their usual pallor did I relax. “Mr. Li didn’t come with you?”

The corners of his lips lifted in a smile, and after a pause, he replied, “Mr. Li absolutely refused to let me come. When I insisted, he… left.”

Didn’t you just drive him mad with frustration? I looked at him and couldn’t help sighing softly. “Do you have to push everyone away?”

He blinked, then chuckled. “Mr. Li said the same thing before he left.”

I fell silent, holding him as I reached up to brush the stray hairs from his forehead.

After wiping away the thin sheen of sweat, my fingers traced his pale cheek. With a teasing smile, I said, “Master, with such natural beauty that even you can’t abandon, why must you insist on being a lone sovereign?”

He pressed his lips together in a helpless smile. “What nonsense are you spouting now?”

I grinned but didn’t answer. He closed his eyes briefly before asking softly between coughs, “Where are we?”

I replied, “Shanshan.”He nodded, coughing lightly a few times. "We're very close to Tianshan now." Then he asked, "Is everyone settled in?"

Among this group, he was probably the one who worried me the most. I sighed. "They're all settled. Don't worry about them."

He forced a faint smile, frowning as if pondering something, his voice gradually lowering. "They won't let us proceed peacefully anymore. I just hope nothing happens tonight."

Hearing this, I suddenly recalled what he had said earlier in the day and asked, "When that Snow-Robed person took their own life, you said they weren't from the Tianshan Sect. So which sect were they from?"

There was no answer. The arm I had been using to support Xiao Huan's back suddenly felt heavier as his body leaned forward slightly, trembling faintly.

"Master?" I called softly, using my other hand to steady his shoulder, trying to help him sit up. But then, a warm yet cool liquid dripped onto the back of my hand.

His thin lips were tightly pressed together, yet from between his pale, colorless lips, a dark red stream of blood welled up, spilling over my fingers and flowing down continuously.

It felt like a heavy hammer was pounding inside my skull, making it impossible to think. I tightened my grip around his shoulders, my voice hoarse. "Brother Xiao..."

The mist in his deep eyes grew thicker. He coughed lightly and pressed his lips together, but the blood still trickled from the corners of his mouth, winding its way down his snow-white chin in a startlingly tragic beauty.

After closing his eyes and resting against the quilt for a long while to regulate his breathing, he finally opened his eyes and gave me a faint smile. "It's nothing... just the jostling from the journey. A little rest... will help."

As soon as he spoke, his previously calmed breath became erratic again, and he coughed several times in succession.

I lifted my sleeve to wipe the blood from the corners of his lips, my eyes stinging. I forced myself not to tremble. "Do you have any medicine?"

He pointed to a wooden chest at the back of the carriage. I hurried over and found several porcelain bottles left by Li Mingshang inside.

After retrieving a medicinal pill, I found a leather pouch of hot water in the carriage, poured it into a copper bowl, and dissolved the pill in the water before bringing it to him.

He hesitated, looking at the bowl of medicinal liquid. "I could just take the pill directly."

His stomach and spleen were so weak now—taking the pill wouldn't be as effective as drinking it like this. I knew he was afraid of the bitterness, so I took a sip of the medicine into my own mouth, pressed my lips to his, and used my tongue to slowly push the liquid into his mouth.

I repeated this with the rest of the medicine. I don’t know how long it took, but eventually, the entire bowl was fed to him.

Setting the bowl aside on a small table, I remarked, "Mr. Li’s prescriptions are getting more and more bitter. Is he taking the chance to torment you?"

Lowering his eyes and coughing lightly, his cheeks still slightly flushed, he didn’t respond.

I chuckled, raising my hand to stroke his cheek. "I was just helping Master take his medicine. This method works quite well."

He nodded with a faint smile but still said nothing.

Looking at his face, I suddenly burst into laughter. "It just occurred to me—back at Shanhai Pass, when Kumoer teased you, maybe he wasn’t entirely acting. With your flushed cheeks and shy, bashful look, you’re even more captivating than a maiden."

Only then did he glance up at me, still coughing. "Don’t be so disrespectful."

Ever since he said we should maintain a proper master-disciple relationship, he had treated me with polite distance. Never before had he spoken to me in such a chiding tone like today.I laughed heartily, "This disciple is just so unruly, I hope Master can forgive me."

After all, he was mentally exhausted. Even after taking medicine, he kept coughing lightly and soon closed his eyes as he leaned against the soft cushion.

I quietly stepped out. Both Shi Yan and Su Qian were waiting outside the carriage. Seeing me, Su Qian asked, "How is the Pavilion Master?"

I shook my head: "She coughed up some blood and has taken medicine to rest first."

Su Qian's eyes darkened: "It's been like this for days. Mr. Li was right—the Pavilion Master shouldn't have come."

I looked up at them and said, "Su Qian, Commander Shi, I have a plan and hope you can help me."

Su Qian remained silent, but Shi Yan suddenly spoke: "The two battalions of Imperial Bodyguards originally served the head of the Xiao family. As long as Your Ladyship remains the matriarch of the Xiao clan, you may command us."

This taciturn commander of the Imperial Bodyguards had little interaction with me back in the palace. Now that we were in the Martial World, he rarely spoke to me. I hadn't expected him to support me so firmly at this moment.

Smiling at him, I nodded solemnly: "Thank you, Commander Shi."