The raging fire once again illuminated the deep pit beneath the Piaoling Eyebrow Garden, turning it crimson.
Liu Yan was to be destroyed along with countless venomous insects.
The twilight was dim and heavy.
A massive tomb engulfed in flames.
The Piaoling Eyebrow Garden resembled a grand burial mound of the Fengliu Dian, gradually fading into the darkness of the night.
Wan Yu Yuedan gently touched the scorching earth and sighed, "The Biluo Palace has planted thunderfire bombs in the crevices of Soul Prayer Mountain. Everyone, please leave as soon as possible. To prevent the flames from spreading and detonating the bombs, we must clear the explosives here."
The red-clad woman frowned. "So you did have a backup plan. Were you planning to blow up the mountain and kill everyone here if you couldn't win?"
Wan Yu Yuedan smiled faintly but did not respond.
The Central Plains Sword Association divided into several groups, carrying the unconscious poison-afflicted individuals onto horseback and slowly leading them away from Soul Prayer Mountain.
Wang Lingqiu hid among the crowd, hoping everyone would be too busy rescuing others to notice him, giving him a chance to escape. This long-browed old man was not skilled in martial arts but was quite adept at fleeing for his life.
However, he had only managed to run a few dozen feet when something flew through the night, piercing through his back and exiting his chest.
Without his poison arts to rely on, Wang Lingqiu was as insignificant as an ant, killed in a single strike without even knowing who his murderer was.
In the distance, Yu Tuan'er, standing by the edge of the deep pit, trembled violently. She had thrown the sword with all her might.
She couldn't let this old man escape!
Yu Tuan'er's sword alone could not have pierced Wang Lingqiu's chest.
Mid-flight, a sleeve brushed against it, and the ordinary steel sword shot like a meteor, piercing through Wang Lingqiu's heart.
The battle at Piaoling Eyebrow Garden on Soul Prayer Mountain ultimately ended in victory for the Central Plains Sword Association.
Among the fallen were Ren Qingchou, Zheng Yue, Xue Xianzi, Shui Duopo, Mo Ziru, Nun Wenxiu, Bai Suche, Yu Furen, Dongfang Jian, and many others, while A Shui's whereabouts remained unknown. Fengliu Dian and Tianqing Temple were nearly annihilated.
Tang Lici, far from being the mastermind of Fengliu Dian, had endured humiliation to turn the tide of battle, saving Pu Zhu from dire straits. This man had not only strategized to overthrow Fengliu Dian but also executed Gui Mudan, quelling Tianqing Temple's rebellion in its infancy. Without Young Master Tang, the world might have descended into chaos. To avert this crisis, he had tirelessly worked, sustaining severe injuries in the process.
For a time, the emperor issued decrees of reward, the court sang his praises, and the common folk rejoiced, eagerly awaiting Young Master Tang's recovery.
With all matters settled,
Tang Lici lay in a daze, unaware of how long he had been confined to his sickbed.
One day, he dreamed of a great fire.
In the dream, there was a verdant mountain.
The mountain was engulfed in flames.
The mountain burned to barren land, devoid of any people, only an ever-intensifying fire and an increasingly charred, grotesque, and terrifying mountain.
He remained unconscious for over a month, unaware of who had been moving him about. He could sense himself being transported between carriages and horses, seemingly seeing many physicians and taking countless medicines.
He dreamed of that horrifying black mountain many times.
Until one day, he awoke completely to find himself in his former residence on Haoyun Mountain. Outside the window was a green mountain, shrouded in mist, with serene and beautiful scenery—no charred remains in sight.
He murmured, "A Shui," but no one was by his side.
After a long while, Tang Lici sat up, wrapped in blankets, and saw the setting sun outside the window, the evening mist like a veil.
It was an exceptionally peaceful and tranquil sunset.
He could not call for A Shui, nor did he see Liu Yan or Fu Zhumei.During the month Tang Lici lay unconscious, Tianqing Temple was sealed off by the Dali Temple for a thorough investigation into the so-called "sorcery of the late emperor's spirit." Yang Guihua arrested many people, and Shaolin Temple was also thoroughly searched.
But these matters no longer concerned Tang Lici.
Once he could rise from his bed, he took Fengfeng back into his arms.
A-Shui had vanished into the deep pools and streams of Yujing Mountain. Tang Lici dispatched hundreds of remaining members of Wanqiao Zhai to search Yujing Mountain and its rivers, but she was never found.
He rarely thought of her, truth be told.
For some reason, even in his dreams, he dared not see her.
About Fengfeng, about throwing her out as a decoy, about that silver note... there were many, many things he could say. But most of the time, he felt A-Shui didn’t need those justifications or answers.
The one who needed explanations and justifications was Tang Lici.
Not A-Shui.
Mountains stretched far, the azure sky ended somewhere unseen, and the flowing water made no sound.
She would never return.
And he would remember her always, etched into his bones for the rest of his life.
Tang Lici bought a plot of land outside the capital and spent a long time building a tomb.
In the first year after its completion, he brought stacks of joss paper.
Standing before the grave, his sleeves fluttering in the wind, the burning joss paper danced and scattered with the breeze, leaving behind only faint traces of smoke.
Burned away.
As if it had never existed.
He lit incense and offered fresh flowers for Chi Yun, Xue Xianzi, Mo Ziru, Shui Duopo, Zheng Yue, Bai Suche, Abbess Wenxiu, Yu Furen, Liu Yan of the Eastern Sword, and many others.
Slowly, he knelt and kowtowed before these tombstones.
First bow.
Second bow.
Third bow.
The mountain wind was biting.
All was silent.
In this life, he had given his all to greed, hatred, delusion, unfulfilled desires, resentment, and the pain of parting.
(End of the novel)
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