Chapter 329: Spring Winds and Snowy Winters Part Ways

The rain stopped as dawn approached.

Pale gray clouds drifted across the sky, stretching high and far, continuously passing over the roof of Jiuyou Hall. A strong wind, filtered through endless forests, became incredibly pure and chilling by the time it reached Jiuyou Hall, lingering there, replacing the rain that had previously enveloped the eaves. Behind the clouds, a hazy moonlight emerged, weaving through them and scattering faint dust motes of light, yet the darkness seemed to grow heavier.

Ning Changjiu lay awake all night on the bed. The woman's orchid-like breath misted against his neck, their touching skin felt hot, and stray strands of hair tickled him. A dreamy softness pressed against his arm, seeming almost tangible. The phoenix silk brocade quilt covered her face, shrouding all the tender intimacy in darkness, only outlining a shape that sparked imagination.

Ning Changjiu gazed at the invisibly stirring wind outside the window, content in this tranquility.

Outside, the sky gradually brightened with a faint glow; it was hard to tell if it was the moon after the rain or the arrival of dawn.

The paper kite that had descended from the sky had transformed into a fish and vanished into the night, taking with it the rain that had fallen all night.

Ye Changong...

Ning Changjiu found himself involuntarily recalling that name.

He gently turned his head, looking at the tranquil sleeping face beside him, so peaceful he almost hesitated to disturb it. With her by his side, their skin touching, and the lingering warmth of their intimacy still present, he nevertheless found himself troubled by other matters. This sparked a sense of betrayal-like guilt, especially knowing they would part ways again after today.

Yet, the three characters "Ye Changong" firmly gripped his thoughts, refusing to let go.

Such thoughts mostly stemmed from an obsession... It was like a problem pondered for two lifetimes had suddenly found an answer, and with it, all related insights came flooding in.

Changong... What connection did this have to the Toad Palace on the moon in mythology?

Her surname is Ye... Is it an onomatopoeia for "night"?

Why did she kill him back then, imprisoning him in a desolate place for such a long time, until the day of his rebirth?

What exactly was the "Hunting Nation" plan? Who was its target—the Twelve Rulers or the Dark Lord?

If the Six Gods of Primordial Chaos each had their own star, what corresponded to the Dark Lord?

The Seventh God, the Spark... and Evil and Poetry, what was their connection to his master?

Ning Changjiu couldn't block out these thoughts; they intertwined in his mind, sketching out a vague future.

His master's figure was as mysterious as the cold Moon Palace hidden deep above the night sky.

Outside, it grew increasingly bright, and the pear blossom branches cast clear shadows across the paper window.

The moon faded in the sky.

Lu Jiajia slowly awoke, her eyelashes trembling as she opened her eyes. She looked at Ning Changjiu and softly asked, "You haven't left yet?"

"We agreed," Ning Changjiu replied, "this time, I won't leave without saying goodbye."

"Mm." Lu Jiajia's voice was soft as a whisper. She closed her eyes, composed herself, and said, "Be careful in Myriad Demon City. Don't let any demonesses capture you."

"Don't I have a great demon-slaying divine official by my side?" Ning Changjiu retorted.

Lu Jiajia scoffed softly, "She's the one I worry about the most."

"Then... that night, why did you still ask Siming to stay?" Ning Changjiu asked.

If Siming had stayed that night, they might have had to share a bed, and the thought was a little... cramped.

Lu Jiajia said, "It was to test you, wasn't it? Who knew you'd instantly reveal your true colors?"

Ning Changjiu smiled helplessly, "Jiajia truly has no trust in me."

Lu Jiajia replied, "Whose fault is it that you always bring back... surprises every time you travel far?"

Ning Changjiu declared righteously, "I'm finding good sisters for Jiajia."

Lu Jiajia opened her eyes and stared coldly at him for a moment.

"Get down!"

The woman sharply rebuked.

Ning Changjiu was kicked off the bed.

By the time Siming knocked on the door, Lu Jiajia was already dressed and sitting upright. Ning Changjiu had brewed fresh tea; the water filtered from the spout had a faint greenish hue and exuded a delicate fragrance.

Siming looked at Lu Jiajia, who was still wearing a plain white, one-piece thin gown, tied only at the waist.

She smiled at Siming.

"Sister, you're here." Lu Jiajia poured hot tea for Siming.

Siming approached with a soft smile, her shoulders level and her steps gracefully light. She picked up the tea, took a sip, then took out a small brocade pouch and placed it in Lu Jiajia's palm, closing her fingers over it.

"After I leave, no one will be able to protect you completely, so be extra careful yourself," Siming instructed, her usual cool tone tinged with concern.

Lu Jiajia tightly gripped the small pouch and nodded vigorously.

She and Siming spoke quietly for a while.

Ning Changjiu, left to the side, complained with a smile, "Who's the husband here, anyway?"

Lu Jiajia replied coolly, "Our sisterly bond runs deep. What business is it of yours?"

Ning Changjiu paused, feeling even more innocent. He wondered, *Then why did you kick me out of bed when I mentioned 'sisters' earlier?*

Lu Jiajia knew what he was thinking and simply said, "Anyway, when Xiang'er confronts you about it, you'll have to explain it yourself. I won't help you."

Ning Changjiu comforted himself, "Xiang'er, well... she's always considerate of me."

Siming asked curiously, "What kind of person is Zhao Xiang'er, exactly?"

Lu Jiajia wasn't sure how to describe her, so she gave a general outline, sketching a picture of someone with a single ponytail, a petite but graceful figure, beautiful features, and a dignified presence in a black and gold dragon robe.

Siming nodded faintly, her face showing indifference.

*Hmph,* she thought, *no matter how proud she is, at best she's just a divine official of the Vermilion Bird Divine Kingdom, her cultivation level merely on par with mine.*

"Well, any woman who takes a liking to Ning Changjiu is probably not very smart," Siming remarked, showing clear disdain for Zhao Xiang'er.

"..." Lu Jiajia looked at her, pursing her lips in silent protest against her words.

The moment of departure soon arrived.

Lu Jiajia rose to bid farewell to Ning Changjiu and Siming.

Ning Changjiu hugged her, and she wrapped her arms around him, their soft bodies pressing close.

Siming, disinclined to watch their tender farewell, walked out the door alone.

Myriad Demon City did not permit carrying swords, and she wouldn't deliberately flout the rules. After stepping outside, she moved a finger, and a streak of light shot from the top floor of Jiuyou Hall. A black sword, whistling softly, hovered before her, then gently descended, settling firmly into the courtyard like a calamity-suppressing artifact, unmoving.

When Ning Changjiu emerged, the pear blossoms in the courtyard had already turned to powder.

He looked at Siming's back and said softly, "Let's go."

Siming hummed in acknowledgment. She affixed the painted demon fox wooden mask to her face, and her icy eyes calmly regarded Ning Changjiu. "The last time we truly walked side-by-side," she said, "was seemingly when we were being hunted by the Sin Monarch."

"Indeed," Ning Changjiu replied, "before you came down from the golden cross, I never imagined we could become friends."

Siming involuntarily recalled the humiliation Ning Changjiu and Shao Xiaoli had inflicted upon her on the golden torture rack.

"Hmph, you dare bring that up?" Siming retorted coldly. "If not for the slave mark, I would have settled that old score with you long ago."

Ning Changjiu smiled, then said seriously, "Perhaps, this is also part of your cultivation to regain your position as a divine official."

Beneath the mask, Siming's eyes narrowed slightly. Ning Changjiu had hit upon her true thoughts.

All along, she had indeed considered these experiences a part of her cultivation.

"Jiajia is too kind," Siming said. "It's truly suffering for her to be with you."

"My destiny keeps me busy; it's not by my own will," Ning Changjiu said with a sigh.

"Have you ever thought about the meaning of everything you've experienced?" Siming asked, following his words. "I have," Ning Changjiu quickly replied. "At first, I thought I was just saving myself, but now..."

They walked through the courtyard, gazing at the Ten Peaks in the distance. Although last night's rain had stopped, the mist had not yet dispersed, and the world slowly unveiled itself through the damp haze. The Ten Peaks appeared indistinct and serene in this way.

"Now what? Saving the world?" Siming scoffed faintly, as if mocking his naivete.

Ning Changjiu gently shook his head. He glanced at Jiuyou Hall, where Ning Xiaoling was running out, her tail like a flickering flame.

Ning Changjiu said softly, "It's not that grand. I just want to do my best to find some peace for them."

Ning Xiaoling ran quickly, darting in front of them in an instant. Ning Changjiu looked at her adorable appearance and opened his arms to embrace her.

Ning Xiaoling sprang up with a whoosh, leaping into Siming's soft embrace.

Ning Changjiu was silent for a moment, then withdrew his hand dejectedly, sighing.

The little fox rolled around a few times in Siming's arms, her small paws resting on the raised divine robe. She lifted her head, looking at Siming's face.

Siming was also wearing her demon fox mask at this moment, and the real fox and the "fake" fox, looking at each other, seemed rather harmonious.

"Sister, please be careful," Ning Xiaoling said softly. "It's okay if you can't retrieve your authority; I'll just discuss it with Lord Hades... You must stay safe."

Siming smiled faintly, "Don't worry, there's nothing in this world that I want and cannot obtain."

"Mhm, mhm." Ning Xiaoling nodded vigorously.

After that, she finally jumped into Ning Changjiu's arms, also tumbling and charming him. Ning Changjiu had initially felt a little aggrieved by the previous scene, but the little fox was simply too adorable. His intentionally stern face softened at once. He stroked Ning Xiaoling's ears and back and said, "Take good care of your master."

Ning Xiaoling said, "Take good care of Sister Siming."

Ning Changjiu smiled and extended his palm, and Ning Xiaoling also extended hers, their palms pressing together.

When Fish King saw Ning Changjiu and Siming, he was bruised and battered.

He sat in front of the fish tank, where dried fish were piled like a small mountain, looking utterly devoid of hope.

Ning Changjiu was there to help him move the mountain of fish. Seeing Fish King in such a state, he was startled. "What... who did this?"

Fish King used to be a great demon of the Fifth Dao realm. Although his cultivation had fallen, after the Netherworld, Ning Changjiu had returned the Netherworld Scroll, and with successive opportunities, Fish King's realm had recovered significantly. Most visitors to Hidden Moon Lake were disciples, and they were lucky if Fish King didn't trick or defraud them; how could they possibly be his match?

Who could possibly beat Fish King like this?

Fish King stammered, "Last night I was practicing on the cliff, and, uh... I accidentally fell."

Ning Changjiu was skeptical. "Can a cat get so bruised from falling?"

Fish King's face turned red as he argued, "It's all because of malnutrition! If you ate dried fish every day, you'd be even more worthless than me!"

"..." Ning Changjiu was speechless.

As Fish King said this, he nervously glanced at Siming.

He had an instinctive fear of this woman; after all, even at his peak, he was far from being her match.

"The Sect Master has issued a special pardon," Ning Changjiu announced, "and you are absolved of your crime of defrauding disciples. From now on, your fishing is unrestricted, but you must reflect carefully and not commit such offenses again."

Fish King was overjoyed and flattered. He looked at them and asked, "Are you going on a long journey?"

"Shh," Ning Changjiu whispered, "It's a secret."

Fish King immediately nodded, inwardly urging Ning Changjiu to quickly "release the tiger back to the mountains."

Ning Changjiu helped Fish King move the large tank of dried fish.

Fish King, relieved, quickly offered countless thanks to Sect Master Siming, praising her wisdom and kindness.

Siming sighed, thinking, *If the next generation of Di Ting is really this thing, then the divine realm is truly in decline.*

Only after they left did Fish King finally breathe a long sigh of relief.

He lay by the river, reaching a paw to touch the bruises on his cheek, hissing in pain.

He had lied.

These injuries weren't from an accidental fall but from a fight.

But it was too humiliating to admit—he had lost to a fish.

Just last night, as he lay in his cave watching the rain, a red fish suddenly appeared in Hidden Moon Lake, swimming around conspicuously and arrogantly. It looked like a great tonic.

Fish King had never seen this fish before and thought it must be a rare species that usually lay dormant at the bottom of the lake, only appearing when it rained.

The moment he saw the fish, various recipes flashed through his mind. While deciding on a cooking method, he leaped into the lake to catch it.

The fish was exceptionally beautiful, with a graceful form and scales like illusory burning fire, especially its pair of thin, feathered wings, long like a bird's.

Fish King, considering himself the ruler of Hidden Moon Lake, sneered and lunged at the red fish. However, the outwardly beautiful fish was far more formidable than he had imagined. After being forced back by a powerful tail whip, Fish King remained undeterred, thinking he had simply underestimated his opponent, and lunged again with his claws. What followed was the sound of turbulent splashes as the fish repeatedly used the same tactic, striking him with several powerful tail whips. Helpless, Fish King was slammed back onto the shore, bruised and battered.

He, who had proclaimed himself Fish King, had never imagined he would encounter such a powerful rival in his lifetime.

But at least he didn't have to eat dried fish anymore...

Fish King was about to go into the lake to hunt when he saw the red fish float up like a ghost, staring coldly at him.

"Can't I just leave?" Fish King was silent for a moment, then was about to depart in frustrated indignation.

Around the corner, a girl's voice suddenly rang out: "Di Ting, you really are here! I heard them say there was a cat living in a cave by the lake that looked just like the one I lost. I can't believe it's really you... Since you're back, why didn't you come find me?"

The newcomer was Yu Jin. Her eyes welled with tears as she looked at the white cat and said, "Little Di Ting, why have you become so thin? Oh, by the way, have you seen Xiaoling?"

Fish King looked at the girl in the white dress, and his mood finally brightened considerably. He meowed obediently a few times and ran over to beg for food.

In the distance, Ning Changjiu glanced at the red shadow swimming in the lake and roughly guessed the reason for everything.

Last night's heavy rain was not a dream. It was the paper kite transformed into a red fish.

Was this his master's way of guarding Jiajia and Xiaoling for him, allowing him to search for her with peace of mind?

Ning Changjiu wasn't sure, but he finally cast aside his last worries and departed with Siming.

A spring breeze caressed their faces, and willow branches hung low in the forest. Looking into the distance, the new buds among them were as tender as fine down, swaying along the mountain path that stretched far away.

Siming stood amidst the scattered rocks, her black robe fluttering in the wind, her moon-white embroidered shoes faintly visible.

She extended her hand and casually made a gesture in front of her, conjuring an ethereal sword.

She stepped onto the tip of the ethereal sword.

As a great cultivator of the Fifth Dao realm, it would be faster if she carried him.

Ning Changjiu came up behind her.

They maintained a delicate distance.

The sword cut through the air.

"Hold on tight; we're going to speed up," Siming said coolly.

Ning Changjiu silently moved closer.

Siming sneered, "There's no one else here. Who are you putting on this reluctant act for? Did you make some promise to Lu Jiajia, and now feel guilty?"

"I'm just a little unaccustomed to it," Ning Changjiu said.

After all, whenever he traveled with others in the past, he was the one controlling the sword, or they would control it together.

Siming said, "That night, when you and Jiajia punished me, you were so heavy-handed. Why are you so timid now? Ha, and when I kissed you back then, you weren't so bashful either."

Ning Changjiu listened to her subtly provocative words, wondering if Lu Jiajia was having Siming test him.

He looked at the curve of Siming's back, forcing his resolve, remaining unmoved, and stiffly leaned closer.

"Didn't Xiaoli make you kiss me back then?" Ning Changjiu said casually, trying to ease the awkwardness.

Siming scoffed, "You've only just left, and you're already thinking about the little girl far away in Duanjie City?"

Ning Changjiu asked, "Didn't you want to take her as your disciple back then?"

"Seeing how obedient she is to you, I gave up that idea," Siming said. "I want to take a disciple, not a traitor."

Ning Changjiu smiled, not replying, just thinking that in the Book of Luo, she and Jiajia had also almost become master and disciple.

Her eye for choosing disciples... was quite similar to his own eye for choosing a master.

Sword energy cut through the air.

The whistling wind severed Ning Changjiu's thoughts.

The trees in the forest trembled violently from the sword energy, and fresh green leaves rustled down. Their figures were no longer in the forest, the lingering sword energy dissolving into the sunlight.

While Gu Ling Sect basked in the bright spring, some corners of the world were still experiencing heavy snowfall.

Between the towering snow mountains, a fierce wind repeatedly scoured the landscape. Storms swept across the snow surface, stirring countless snowflakes that gathered like clouds rising from beyond the mountain, spreading wildly, threatening to engulf everything.

Several men were hiding behind a large boulder.

They shivered from the cold, their eyebrows and beards crusted with frost. The lead man, his hands red from the cold, clutched his mink coat tightly. He had a knife tied to his hand, and his gaze occasionally darted over the rock to the distant, swirling snow, his eyes filled with fear.

His body was half-buried in the snow, which had seeped into his boots, cutting his skin like knives. His breathing was slow; the cold air only gradually entered his lungs after being warmed by his trachea.

They were a caravan transporting goods, and they had unfortunately encountered a snow disaster here... or, to be precise, a dragon disaster.

The king of the snow mountains had raged, stirring up a storm that blocked their path. All their goods were lost, buried in the snow, not only resulting in a total financial loss but also leaving them highly likely to perish here.

The lead man gripped his knife tightly, his body stiff with cold. He couldn't help but think of his wife's repeated admonitions before he left... Counting the days, their child was due to be born soon. He had once vowed to make a name for himself, return safely, and provide a good life for her. But now...

He remembered his wife's thin face, her pregnant figure secretly going to her family to borrow money... A fiercer wind tore through his heart; guilt surged and churned, and the man's expression was one of agony.

He struggled to open his snow-covered eyes and glanced at the person beside him: a frail young man had already fainted, the skin on his hands wrinkled with frostbite. Snow continuously fell from the large rock they leaned against, striking them and threatening to bury them.

"Wake up... don't fall asleep," the man said in a low voice, nudging him with his elbow.

The young man, whose lips were chapped from the cold, parted them slightly. He struggled to open his eyes and whispered, "I... I can't hold on. If you make it back alive, please look after my little sister. Our parents are dead, and she's... only seven."

"I can't even pay off my own debts; I don't have time to worry about you. Find a way to get back alive yourself!" the man's voice grew sterner.

The young man gave a bitter laugh and said, "Dad also died on this road last year... This must be my family's fate."

The man looked at his ashen face, trembling all over. He wanted to rouse the other dying men, but though he opened his mouth, no sound came out.

His voice was swallowed by the blizzard raging behind them.

The man propped himself up with his knife, struggling to stand. His gaze went over the rock to the distant, swirling blizzard. The last light in his pupils faded; he was utterly desperate.

"It's still coming..." A sound, audible only to himself, emerged from his throat.

In the blizzard, crimson eyes lit up in the snow mist, accompanied by a colossal, jagged body—the body of a dragon, a demon of the snow mountains... It crawled out of the snow sea on a pair of icy wings, stretching its long neck, its gaze sweeping over the snowfield, letting out a low, despairing roar.

The roar drowned out the sound of the wind.

This was the notorious evil dragon of the region; many had perished in its territory. Precisely because of this, traveling this trade route was very expensive, which was why the man had chosen to take such a risk.

But the snow dragon had still appeared.

The man closed his eyes in despair. Death itself wasn't frightening to him; he hadn't been a good person before he married. Now, his only worry was his wife's reaction when news of his death reached home.

The snow dragon's voice echoed deeply, like a hand dragging someone into an abyss, and the man's breathing slowly became numb.

Just as he thought he was certainly doomed, a red shadow suddenly flitted past the cracked corner of his frozen eye.

This shadow appeared extremely unreal in the snow.

The man slowly opened his eyes.

He looked around but saw nothing. Yet the vast wind and snow had clearly quieted considerably.

"Captain!"

Someone called out to him softly.

The man became a little more alert. He turned his head and saw a small, thin boy struggling to stand, pointing behind the rock with trembling eyes.

"Look there..." he said.

The man pulled himself out of the snow and slowly looked behind the rock—in the direction from which the disaster dragon had come.

The overwhelming snow had not truly stopped; it piled up along a boundary line, unable to cross even half a step.

And on that snow line, a figure in a fluttering red dress stood prominently. Before the ferocious skull of the snow disaster dragon, her form was so tiny, yet she was like a world-burning fire, causing the colossal dragon to halt its winged shadow.

"Qu-queen?" The man immediately guessed her identity... Such grace, only the legendary queen could possess it, surely... The flame of life within his heart suddenly surged. The man, agitated and incoherent, immediately began waking the people around him, urging them to hold on a little longer, to not die just yet.

The figure of the woman in the red dress was as pure as clear glass.

The sword in her hand was also as pure as clear glass.

She floated in the air, her dress like fiery flames dancing in the gale. Her features were cold and alluring, and her skin was like snow that had not melted for ten thousand years.

She was tiny, yet in the eyes of the snow disaster dragon, she seemed like the very embodiment of slaughter.

The dragon let out a submissive growl.

"How many times have I warned you?!" the woman's icy voice pierced through the wind and snow. "You never learn your lesson; what use is keeping you?"

The red dress and the sword plunged into the surging snow mist.

The dragon's prolonged cry rang out.

Within that boundary line, the overwhelming snow surged like real ocean waves.

The ancient dragon's prolonged cry turned from fury to agony.

Sword light brilliantly wove through the snow, as if to cleave the very heavens and earth.

Soon, the sky-filling snow mist turned into blood mist.

The wind and snow quieted.

The snow disaster dragon's corpse lay on the snowfield, its crimson eyes devoid of light. Its wings had been severed, its body torn open, and boiling hot blood gushed from the massive sword wounds.

The woman in the red dress walked away, her back to the enormous dragon corpse.

Her sword blade was covered in a layer of dust.

The survivors watched from behind the rock, unblinking. They had never witnessed such fierce and absolute beauty.

The snow grew quieter, the sky grew brighter. The mist thinned, and the mountain peaks became more distant.

The silhouette in the red dress moved further and further away, until it vanished.

The men finally came back to their senses.

"She... is she our Queen?"

"Yes, she is Shao Xiaoli."