Liu Yan tore a strip of white cloth from the robe Xue Xianzi had changed out of, found brush and ink inside the tent, and wrote a few lines on the cloth before handing it to Xue Xianzi. Xue Xianzi looked at it and saw the words: "There is a cure for the rare poison—Divine Ease Flowing Fragrance. The path to immortality is vast and righteous. On the day the medicine is completed half a year hence, I shall receive guests at the Snow Eagle Abode atop Jueling Peak. Exchange the summons for the cure." Below it was a line of twisting, floral-like symbols whose meaning was unclear. Puzzled, Xue Xianzi asked, "What is this?" Liu Yan exhaled softly and replied indifferently, "A message for A-Li, concerning some private matters." Xue Xianzi shook his head. "The first part is well-written, full of a rogue's boldness. If people believe it, they'll diligently practice martial arts at home for half a year, and the martial world will be at peace. But—how do I prove this is a letter personally written by the gallant Liu Yan? Do you have any token?"
Liu Yan froze. His horrifying face underwent a subtle change, as if stirred by emotion. Slowly, he reached into his robe and pulled out something. "This..." Xue Xianzi saw him retrieve something soft. "What is it?" Liu Yan carefully unfolded the object, and Xue Xianzi was startled to see a face that was both eerie and hauntingly handsome. Even with his years of experience in the martial world, Xue Xianzi broke into a cold sweat. "Human skin? Your... face..." Liu Yan smiled faintly. "Yes, my face." Xue Xianzi grabbed the skin. "Good. I'll go now. Wait here for me, and don't go out unless you see someone." Liu Yan said calmly, "If you meet my disciple, tell him I'm waiting for him here." Xue Xianzi nodded and left with a smile.
Liu Yan sat alone in the black tent, fragments of the past replaying before his eyes. He thought of long ago, when he played the guitar and sang nameless songs in a bar called Fengqing. Everyone said Brother Yan was a gentle man, kind to all, meticulous in his work—such men were rare. Back then, he lived in the Tang household as a half-bodyguard, spending most of his days with A-Li and singing at the bar at night. Nearly everything A-Li possessed was also his. He had never doubted anything then, pouring all his energy into perfectly handling the troubles A-Li stirred up, striving to appear elegant, composed, calm, and confident, never shaming the Tang family. He had been like the best butler and bodyguard, rejoicing as if it were his own whenever A-Li gained something.
When had everything become unrecognizable? When had he lost that gentle face of his past? When had he lost the capacity to forgive anyone? From the day he became disillusioned with A-Li, his world had collapsed before he even understood it. And now... had his shattered world truly returned? In truth, he still didn’t understand.
He had never known what he truly wanted, only what he was supposed to do. He lacked the concept of purpose, often acting without knowing why, only because someone wished him to.
Isn’t such a personality wretched? He stared blankly at the empty tent, his thoughts dissolving into a long, hollow silence.Outside the tent, the black-clad death warriors had regained order, standing in formation. The black smoke in the valley had dissipated. Though the ambush had been exposed and Lin Bu had been unexpectedly rescued, Gui Mudan had not abandoned the plan. The death warriors remained in formation, awaiting orders.
Xue Xianzi, clutching the white cloth with Liu Yan's written message, darted toward Beauty Abode. His figure was light and swift, and dressed in the attire of a death warrior, none of the Demon Soul Death Warriors noticed him. Yet just as he reached the slope behind Beauty Abode, a figure stood with a sword planted in the ground, as if they had been waiting there for a long time.
It was the back of Yu Qifeng. Xue Xianzi sighed, regretting not having taken a detour. In that instant, two others approached slowly from behind. "Xue Lang, where is Revered Master Liu?" one of them giggled. "Where have you hidden him?" Xue Xianzi turned around to find himself surrounded by three people: Yu Qifeng, Hongchan Niangzi, and a figure clad entirely in black, their robes embroidered with vividly colored and oddly shaped peonies.
Xue Xianzi's gaze swept over each of their faces. Yu Qifeng drew his longsword, Hongchan Niangzi gripped her Blue Curved Saber, and the black-clad figure—though unknown—was clearly no easy opponent. Just as Yu Qifeng was about to unleash his swordplay techniques, Xue Xianzi sighed. "Hold on, I surrender." Yu Qifeng froze, and all three were taken aback. Xue Xianzi patted himself down. "Sword King Yu, Little Red Cicada, and this flowery-robed brother whom I've never met but must be extraordinary—rather than fighting a bloody battle only to lose anyway, isn't it more dashing to admit defeat now?"
Gui Mudan, the black-clad figure, fixed him with a stare before suddenly bursting into laughter. "Hahaha! Xue Xianzi, you truly live up to your reputation as a hero of our time. Please!" He gestured forward. "With your spirit, you are worthy to be my honored guest. This way." A gurgling sound came from the hole in Yu Qifeng's throat, as if he were deeply displeased, but he said nothing. Meanwhile, Hongchan Niangzi stepped forward with a smile, pressing her fingers against several of Xue Xianzi's acupoints. "Poor Xue Lang, you've suffered. Come with me."
Xue Xianzi, still holding Liu Yan's letter and the human skin in his robe, knew that if he were captured now, these items would surely be confiscated. His mind raced through seventeen or eighteen ideas, all useless. Resigned, he reached into his robe and pulled out both the letter and the skin, handing them over. "This is Revered Master Liu's letter to the martial world. He was just taken away by Fang Pingzhai, leaving only this letter for me to deliver to Cheng Yunpao at Beauty Abode. I have no deep ties with Revered Master Liu—I only helped him for a ten-thousand-tael gold note. See? My pockets are empty now, and I’m even giving you the note. Surely you can see this old man isn’t lying?"
Hongchan Niangzi giggled, stroking Xue Xianzi's cheek. "Xue Lang, you’ve always been heartless. I believe you’d do this for money—but I wonder if the Ghost Master believes you." Xue Xianzi forced a laugh. "This old man rarely meddles in martial affairs. This time, I’ve truly stumbled into a deep ditch and lost all face. It just goes to show—one must never love money. Love it, and you’ll fall." Hongchan Niangzi pinched his jade-like face, laughing sweetly. "Oh, come now! If you call yourself old, no one would believe you. Xue Lang, just how old are you?" Xue Xianzi laughed heartily. "This old man is seventy-eight." Hongchan Niangzi beamed, her voice dripping with honey. "This humble lady is sixty-six—a perfect match for you."
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