The sky was darkened by snow-laden clouds, a blanket of cold that covered everything in sight. The winds were sharp, so icy that each breath felt like inhaling fragments of glass. At the peak of Snow Mountain, Hang Fang and Xiao Yi sat side by side, not speaking, their eyes fixed on an endless abyss below. The edge of the world seemed to stretch out before them, and the silence hung heavy between them.
Hang Fang closed his eyes, his breath deep and ragged, as though an internal fire was burning within him. Xiao Yi sat quietly, her presence a quiet anchor beside him, yet no words escaped her lips. For what felt like an eternity, the only sounds were the howling wind and the soft, gentle fall of snowflakes.
Finally, Hang Fang broke the silence, his voice a low murmur, tinged with exhaustion. "Xiao Yi, do you think things can ever go back to the way they were?" His question felt heavy, like the words of a warrior who had endured too many battles and now longed only for peace.
Xiao Yi's gaze was distant, her expression pained. "Some things can never return, Hang Fang," she whispered. "No matter how much we wish for them."
Hang Fang's fists clenched, the pain in his eyes unmistakable. He opened his eyes, staring into the void, his voice raw. "Then what's the point of living? If we couldn't even save the people we loved most… what is all this for?"
Xiao Yi sat in silence for a moment, her gaze still fixed on him. She didn't answer immediately, instead letting the wind's mournful cry fill the space between them. Finally, she spoke softly. "Living isn't just about winning or losing, Hang Fang. Sometimes, the moments we share, however brief, are all that matter. For some, a single moment is everything."
A bitter laugh escaped Hang Fang's lips, but it held no humor. "I want that moment, Xiao Yi."
Xiao Yi, ever the steady presence, reached down, scooping up a handful of snow. She placed it gently in Hang Fang's hand, her touch a subtle reminder of the beauty in the world despite the pain. "Then come. We can create that moment together."
For a fleeting moment, Hang Fang's eyes flickered with something resembling hope—an ember in the darkness. It was only an instant, but sometimes that's all it takes.
But suddenly, his voice rose in a harsh shout, filled with fury. "Shut up! Don't remind me of that today!"
Xiao Yi's words died on her lips as the scene around them shifted unexpectedly.
Meanwhile, So Rong was consumed by restlessness, her mind a whirlwind of questions. How could she face Hang Fang's last words? How could she explain the events of that night? Her thoughts spiraled as the sound of the Sect Bell rang sharply through the air.
The bell rang only for two reasons: the death of a disciple or urgent news. So Rong's heart sank as a chill spread through her.
Without wasting a moment, she rushed toward the sect's meeting hall. When she arrived, she was met with a tense silence. The elders were already in their seats, their faces etched with concern.
In the next instant, Sect Leader Xiao Xiya appeared, her arrival marked by a disturbance in the air. A powerful energy crackled around her, and the atmosphere in the hall seemed to shimmer with heat.
The elders rose in unison, their respect evident as they greeted her.
"Sect Leader Xiao Xiya, why have you summoned us?" one of the elders asked, his voice trembling slightly.
Xiao Xiya's voice was cold, but there was a deep tension in every word she spoke. "The elders we sent to protect Hang Fang... they've sent a report."
The hall fell completely silent.
Xiao Xiya's next words hit like a thunderclap. "They found many corpses near Tian Jungle."
A wave of shock swept through the room.
She continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "And there… they found Hang Fang's sect token."
The world seemed to stop. So Rong's heart seemed to freeze in her chest.
Hang Fang's sect token?
Darkness clouded her mind. Her breath caught in her throat. Her body went numb.
For a moment, all she could hear was the pounding of her heart.
Then, the dam broke. Tears surged to her eyes.
Her body trembled violently. She covered her mouth with her hand, but a scream of agony broke free, echoing in her chest.
Her Hang Fang…
Could it really be him?
"No…" Her whisper barely reached her ears.
Her mind refused to accept the news. Her heart rejected it. She would not believe it.
Suddenly, without warning, So Rong bolted from the hall, her steps fueled by desperation. The elders tried to stop her, but she paid them no heed.
Her only destination was clear—Tian Jungle.
When she arrived, the sight that greeted her was nothing short of nightmarish.
The ground was soaked in crimson, bodies lying twisted and broken in every direction. The disciples' eyes were wide open in terror, frozen in their final moments of fear.
The air was thick with the stench of death.
So Rong's feet froze in place, her body stiffening as a faint, heart-wrenching cry escaped her throat. The world felt cold and empty.
But then her gaze fell upon something, and it struck her like a blow to the chest.
A piece of cloth fluttered in the wind—it was Hang Fang's.
She felt as though the ground had been pulled out from beneath her. Her body went numb, and she reached down, trembling, to pick it up. Blood stained the fabric.
And then, nestled within the cloth, she saw it—a cracked sect token.
Her body shook uncontrollably as her hand closed around the token. She gripped it as though letting it slip from her fingers would mean losing Hang Fang forever.
The name slipped from her lips like a prayer. "Hang Fang…"
A scream of raw pain erupted from her, tearing through the stillness of the jungle, reverberating through the trees. It was a scream that carried the weight of everything she had lost.
So Rong collapsed, her chest heaving with uncontrollable sobs, the tears flowing freely. Her body quaked with grief, her heart shattered.
For what felt like an eternity, she simply cried.
Then, slowly, the tears ceased.
A strange stillness descended upon her. Her head lifted, her eyes now burning with something far more intense than sorrow.
Rage. A fire that consumed her heart.
She wiped her tears away, her voice low but laced with an icy fury. "Whoever is responsible for this… their death is imminent."
So Rong was no longer the person she had been. The pain had been transformed, twisted into something darker. The woman who had once mourned was now a force of vengeance.