```
Done!
Liang Qu brushed the dust from his sleeves and strode out of the palace.
The warm breeze had dissipated, replaced by a chilling wind that whistled and twirled the snowflakes around the jade pendants at his waist, creating a tinkling sound.
Colorful lanterns adorned the pleasure boats on the full river, reflecting on the water, while the delicate singing voices intertwined and floated through the air like petals carried skyward by the wind, flickering and ephemeral.
"Hoo."
He breathed out a long plume of white mist from his nose and mouth.
Liang Qu gently tapped the railing.
The Holy Emperor had said nothing, yet had said everything.
"Muddled waters, oh muddled waters."
An old monk, a wanderer of the jianghu on his own.
He chased an evil monk across half of Dashun with a "destroyed Dantian," and settled down in Pingyang for years to kill the last disciple of that same monk.
