Chapter Text
Chapter 1
The wind howled forlornly in the valley beneath Mount Kunlun. Zhou Xingshi, the eighth brother of the Tian Shan Sword Sect, pulled his black fur-collared cape tighter around himself as he trudged through the snow. Following the death of Chang Wujie, the doctrine leader of the Grand Light Palace, a significant amount of cleanup and reporting needed to be done. As always, Zhou Xingshi was tasked with the thankless and undesirable jobs, while his more celebrated brothers returned to Dingjian Pavilion to report.
As a result, he was sent to search for bodies in the icy cavern at the base of the towering mountain. Accustomed to such assignments, Xingshi didn’t mind and appreciated the silence and solitude, which allowed him to gather his thoughts. Usually, he would venture out with the flamboyant playboy Xia Qian Yu, facing a relentless barrage of teasing and ridicule regarding his lack of romantic encounters. It was a widely known fact that Xingshi had never experienced a single romantic interaction and avoided flower halls like the plague. His peculiar behavior had earned him the nickname "celestial virgin," which clung to him like an unpleasant odor.
Shrugging off uncomfortable memories, Xingshi scanned the valley with a practiced eye. Although he came from humble beginnings, he was an exceptionally skilled tracker, a talent he had honed during his childhood as a hunter and woodcutter in the mountains. If it hadn’t been for the abduction and murder of his older brother and sister by the Demonic Sect, he likely would have remained in his peaceful, rustic life.
At the tender age of nine, Xingshi knelt outside the gates of the Dingjian Pavilion for three days before Nan Gong, the leader of the Tian Shan sect, finally softened his heart and accepted him as a disciple. He worked extraordinarily hard and advanced in cultivation at an impressive rate. However, having started later than the other disciples, he realized he would never reach the pinnacle of their abilities. Nevertheless, he found contentment in upholding justice and protecting the innocent, even if most of his days were spent running errands for the other sect brothers.
Just as Xingshi was about to call the coast clear, he noticed a small patch of red on the snow. It was no larger than a plum petal, but his keen eyes recognized it immediately as blood. Rushing forward, he found nothing but undisturbed snow. He paused, worrying that he might be snow-blind and hallucinating, but then he heard a faint gasp. Frantically, he began to dig in the snow and soon uncovered a bare shoulder. As he gently dug deeper, he discovered the body of an exceptionally beautiful woman. Her golden-brown curls cascaded across the snow like a thresher's floor, causing Xingshi to catch his breath.
Years ago, during his first mission as a Tian Shan sect disciple, he had seen this hair before in the barren plains of the Western regions. A young slave girl of his age had given him water after he exhausted himself chasing bandits. Her hair had glinted like burnished gold in the desert sun, and she carried an unforgettable scent of flowers. He had promised to redeem her, but they were ambushed by the Demonic Sect, and no survivors were found. Could this be her?
However, from the shattered umbrella lying beneath the woman’s body, it was clear that this wasn’t just any ordinary woman. This was none other than the Grand Light Palace’s envoy, Miao Shui!
Carefully, he pulled the body out of the dense snow and checked for signs of life. He felt a faint, erratic pulse, but her inner energy was severely damaged. That she had survived this long was nothing short of miraculous. As the adrenaline began to ebb, he noticed that her dress was in tatters, with one shapely breast entirely exposed. It was not without reason that he had earned the reputation of celestial virgin, and Xingshi blushed scarlet, even though no one was around to witness it in the bleak valley.
He clumsily attempted to pull her torn dress together but gasped when he realized her body was covered in scars. It looked as if she had been scratched countless times by a tiger, with hardly any time for healing in between. Thin scars crisscrossed her entire chest and back, resembling a shattered piece of pottery that had been hastily repaired. A sour taste filled his mouth as he realized the torture that the chosen vessel for ‘dual cultivation’ with the Doctrine Leader had endured. She appeared to be no more than 30 years old, yet her body had suffered more than many would experience in several lifetimes.
The words of fourth brother Xia Qian Hua rang in Xingshi’s ears:
Bring all demonic cultivators back to Ding Jian pavilion for trial without exception!
For the first time in his life, he felt conflicted. The martial world believed that Miao Shui had perished in the collapse of the Palace of Light. Perhaps she didn’t need to be resurrected. The Tianshan sect was a long and difficult journey away—would she even survive the trip? Memories flooded back: the scent from years ago, the glint of sunlight on her hair, the relief of water on his parched throat. All these sensations blended into one. As a descendant of hunters, intuition was his life—he had never been wrong before. Could he justify ignoring it now?
Xingshi stood motionless in the wind and snow for a long time. Suddenly, with surprising agility and speed, he swept up Miao Shui’s body into his arms. Using qinggong, he quickly made his way to the entrance of the valley. He whistled for his horse and secured Miao Shui’s body beneath his cloak so he could pass internal energy to her dantian and stabilize her condition.
The lesser disciples of the Tianshan sect were gathered at the post house, lamenting their rotten luck. Seeing Xingshi approach, Cui Bei, the most senior among them, stepped out to see if he had any news. Xingshi concealed Miao Shui’s body close to him and casually signaled with the sect token, indicating that he hadn’t found anyone and instead had received a message from the sect leader and was leaving. Cui Bei nodded in understanding and quickly withdrew into the warm and welcoming glow of the post house’s firelight.
As the night wind whipped his face, Xingshi sobered up a bit and gradually, the reality of his decision began to sink in. A faithful, slave-like disciple, he had never acted on his own once, in the 15 years he had been a member of the sect. To do as he was bidden was his only thought and he never even considered another path. He began to craft an explanation in his mind wondering how he would ever be able to convince the shrewd Huo Zhanbai of his falsehood, but the strange stirring in his heart cemented his resolve to save Miao Shui no matter the cost.
Every half hour, he gently infused some of his internal energy into her almost lifeless body, hoping to keep her alive. The fact that her body hadn’t completely chilled gave him at least a little hope. After riding for a few hours, he reached the entrance of a dense forest and sighed in relief. They were almost there. Frantically, he urged his horse forward, but it suddenly collapsed to its knees with a thud. The poor animal was exhausted and could move no further. Xingshi gathered Miao Shui close to his body and scattered some grains on the snowy ground, which was also littered with pine needles, hoping his horse could eat. “I’ll come for you tomorrow, Mei,” he promised the weary but loyal beast.
Dashing deeper into the forest, he ran until he arrived at an old tavern. This was an inn he remembered from his childhood, primarily frequented by hunters and woodsmen, with almost no one else knowing it existed. How wonderful that it was still open, with a familiar cheerful glow emanating from the simple wooden windows. Here, he could hide and rest for a few days while trying to save a life.