Northward

Through the wind and snow, the youth in the wheelchair trudged onward alone. His solitary figure was so inconspicuous amid the silver-clad landscape, yet so strikingly clear.

The wheelchair rolled over the snow with creaks and groans. Ning Chen had once taken Heavenly Frost Grass, and the true qi within him was cold by nature, so he feared the cold less than most. Yet the constant pain shooting through his legs had left his face somewhat pale.

Before he knew it, he had been in this world for nearly half a year. It was not long, yet he had already weathered countless hardships.

His northward journey had no destination. Ning Chen simply went wherever the road took him. He carried the silver given by the academy, earned from chopping firewood.

Sometimes, he spent the night in the wilderness. When hungry, he ate dry rations or caught a wild rabbit. When thirsty, he casually scooped up a mouthful of snow. On snowy days, water was the one thing never in short supply.

The heavy snow had fallen for far too long. Few travelers still ventured out, and merchant caravans waited for clear skies. The entire world seemed so quiet—quiet enough to be frightening.

Loneliness was the only unchanging scenery. Gradually, Ning Chen grew accustomed to loneliness and to the pain in his legs. Then he no longer felt lonely, nor did he feel pain.

Habit was sometimes a terrifying thing. It could make everything slowly become only natural and right.

The road to Shu was hard, harder than climbing to the blue heavens. Ning Chen was not traveling the road to Shu, but to him, the snowy path beneath him was no less difficult.

Only after losing something did one learn to cherish it. The reckless arrogance of his youth had become something to look back on. Every day, all Ning Chen could do was keep moving forward—sitting in his wheelchair, moving forward without end.

His progress in martial cultivation was much faster than before. The cold, snowy weather seemed greatly beneficial to his cultivation. With a turn of his hand, Frost Bloom condensed, like a tiny snowfall.

Houtian Fourth Rank cultivation was already considered quite respectable in this world. What was more, he had cultivated for less than half a year.

He was fortunate. Since beginning cultivation, the people who had guided him had all been rare powerhouses of the world. He had even encountered the Headmaster, though he had been unconscious at the time.

After five days of travel, the endless wilderness finally vanished from before Ning Chen's eyes. He arrived at an ancient city—Falling Moon City.

The ancient city had a peculiar name. It was said that outside the city lay Falling Moon Gorge, a perilous place, but also the shortest route between north and south. Most passing merchant caravans chose to travel through the gorge, sparing themselves much needless detouring.

The snow gradually stopped, though the sky had yet to clear. Still, people who had been cooped up for over a month emerged from their homes—some shoveling snow, others taking to the streets.

The ancient city slowly grew lively. Vendors cried out their wares, passersby haggled over prices, husbands and wives quarreled, and children wailed when they were beaten.

Ning Chen sat in his wheelchair, quietly watching the hundred faces of life. His heart was calm, like that of a passerby. In truth, he really was only a passerby.

"Hyah!"

Suddenly, the urgent sound of hooves shattered the peace. At a distant street corner, a man on horseback raced wildly down the avenue. In an instant, the pedestrians panicked, and chickens flew while dogs leaped about.

Ning Chen was in the middle of the street. He could originally have moved aside in time, but just as he was about to turn his wheelchair away, his hands stopped.

Why should he avoid it?

Had he not spent enough of his life running away?

The people had scattered from the street. Only the galloping horse and Ning Chen, seated in the middle of the road, remained.

Some cried out in alarm, some worried for him, and others reveled in his misfortune.

At the front of the crowd stood a woman dressed in pale blue robes. Her features were delicate and beautiful, though a faint sorrow lingered between her brows. She too quietly watched the young man in the street with curiosity.

The black horse charged forward, and a mocking smile appeared on the young rider's face.

Bang!

A terrifying crash rang out. The black horse let out a mournful neigh. Amid the snowflakes scattering through the air, the youth in the wheelchair sat firmly where he was, utterly motionless.

The youth's hand was pressed against the black horse's face. Therefore, the horse could not advance even a single inch.

With a bang, the young man atop the horse fell to the ground. He fell badly, his face streaked with blood.

"You're courting death!"

The young man immediately scrambled up, his face twisted with savagery. Drawing the sword at his waist, he slashed at Ning Chen.

"Alas."

Ning Chen sighed softly, though no one knew what he was sighing over.

The next moment, an ordinary Woodcutter's Blade swept down with the most perfect edge.

Why call it perfect? Because Ning Chen had swung this blade for over two months—countless tens of thousands of times.

Clang!

With a crisp ring, the sword in the young man's hand snapped in two without the slightest suspense.

The young man froze. So did the passersby by the roadside. Only the youth quietly turned his wheelchair and slowly departed.

The curiosity in the beautiful woman's eyes deepened. What a strange young man.

Ning Chen sensed the woman's curious gaze from within the crowd. After glancing at her once, he continued on his way. She was a very beautiful woman, though she appeared somewhat frail and sickly. She concealed it well, but the faint weariness about her could not be hidden.

When people met on the road, it was fate, and it was also Heaven's Will. Ning Chen turned his wheelchair and brushed past the woman. Neither looked back, neither turned around, and they gradually drifted apart.

"Miss," the old woman beside her softly called.

"He is very much like me," the woman said quietly, a trace of exhaustion flashing through her eyes.

"Miss is the smartest person in this world. No one could possibly compare to Miss," the old woman said with certainty.

"He is very much like me."

The woman repeated herself. Her tone was calm, yet it carried an authority that brooked no doubt.

Hearing this, the old woman fell silent, not daring to argue further.

"Let us go."

The woman spoke, then walked in the direction opposite the youth.

A brief interlude could not change anything. One was heading north, the other south. To brush past each other like this was already a bond from a previous life.

The scenery of the northern lands was the most beautiful. Ning Chen stayed in Falling Moon City for a day. That night, as he watched the prosperity of this ancient city, so different from the imperial city, even his tranquil heart felt a trace of reluctance to leave.

"There's a ghost!"

Outside the city, a shrill cry rang out. Before long, the entire city was gripped by terror. An Underworld Ghost Carriage emerged from Falling Moon Gorge, with Black and White Impermanence leading the way and Ox-Head and Horse-Face clearing the path. Its sinister aura shook all of Falling Moon City.

Many people witnessed the horrifying scene and fled back in a frenzy, as though driven mad.

Ning Chen had once been the least likely person to believe in ghosts and gods. Yet now, he was confused.

If there truly were no ghosts or gods in this world, then what was the explanation for his own experience?

To deny ghosts and gods was, to a great extent, to deny his own existence.

Ning Chen pushed his wheelchair toward Falling Moon Gorge. He truly wanted to see whether ghosts and gods existed in this world.

There were clearly others in the city who thought much as he did. While ordinary people fled as fast as they could, they hurried over out of curiosity instead.

The woman in pale blue was one of them. She had already been about to leave the city, yet she turned back.

"Miss, your body is weak. You should not approach things tainted with Ghost Qi," the old woman urged softly, worry written across her face.

"There should be no ghosts in this world," the woman answered calmly, with little change in her beautiful face.

The old woman knew she could not persuade her and could only follow. She was not afraid of ghosts; she was merely worried because her miss's body was too weak.

A cold wind swept past. The woman's face turned slightly pale, and she coughed softly several times, but her steps never paused.

At night, the gorge outside the city was bitterly cold. Especially after more than a month of intermittent heavy snow, accumulated snow had sealed the mountains, blocking the road through the gorge. Even in the shallowest places, the snow rose above the knees, making travel difficult.

By the time everyone reached the gorge, the Underworld Ghost Carriage had vanished. Ox-Head and Horse-Face, Black and White Impermanence, were nowhere to be seen. Only that utterly cold, utterly evil aura lingered within the gorge, refusing to disperse for a long while.

"Ghost Maiden." After watching for a long time, the woman calmly spoke two words.

"There should be no ghosts in this world."

At that moment, a bewildered voice answered.

A trace of ridicule flashed over the woman's beautiful face. "There are even monsters like Xiantian in this world. Why can there not be ghosts?"

Ning Chen fell silent. After a moment, he replied, "Xiantian were once human."

The woman gave a cold snort. "How do you know ghosts were not once human?"

Ning Chen fell silent again, not knowing how to answer.

Having failed to see what they came for, most people at the gorge returned to the city in disappointment. Ning Chen also turned his wheelchair around and headed back.

The woman stepped forward and stood behind Ning Chen. Her slender, beautiful hands pushed his wheelchair. She said nothing, simply pushing him onward in silence.

Surprise flashed through the old woman's eyes. It was not because of her miss's status. What surprised her was that the scene seemed too natural, as though it was meant to be this way.

"Thank you," Ning Chen said softly.

"Mhm," the woman calmly accepted.

One before the other, Ning Chen sat in his wheelchair while the woman pushed it. They did not speak much, merely walked quietly onward. In the night, the moon hidden behind dark clouds occasionally revealed a sliver of light, only to shyly retreat again in the blink of an eye.

"May I ask this lady's name?"

"Yue Ling."

"And yours, young master?"

"Ning Fan."

They gave each other names. Ning Fan was a name Ning Chen had casually chosen, and Yue Ling was likewise a name the woman had casually made up.

To them, names were merely forms of address. What difference did truth or falsehood make?

"Young Master Ning, where are you headed?" Yue Ling asked.

"North. And you, Miss Ling?" Ning Chen asked casually.

"South," Yue Ling replied.

"What an unfortunate coincidence."

"Yes."

The two wandered casually through the city, while the old woman followed behind without drawing too near.

Falling Moon City was beautiful at night. Along the riverbanks, lights blazed brightly. Even the bitter cold could not stop talented scholars and beautiful ladies from singing verses and composing poetry by the river, cutting dashing figures indeed.

Places of pleasure were always livelier.

"Young master seems to like places such as this."

Yue Ling looked at Ning Chen as she spoke. Her tone was calm, without mockery. She was merely stating a fact.

"I was only reminded of some old acquaintances," Ning Chen replied.

This time, surprise flashed through Yue Ling's eyes. Ning Chen did not seem like someone attached to places of pleasure. How could he have old acquaintances in such a place?

Ning Chen did not explain. Today, he had seen soap being sold in some places throughout the city. It was not expensive, and even ordinary folk could afford it. It seemed Yue Hanyi was not so irredeemably wicked after all.

For some reason, he simply had no favorable impression of Yue Hanyi, even though he knew Lingyan Pavilion treated the women within relatively well.

"It has been a long time since I came here. I never expected the Central Plains to have gained something called soap," Yue Ling remarked with a sigh as she gazed upon the prosperous scene before her, as though their hearts had linked by coincidence.

"Miss is not from the Central Plains?" Ning Chen asked.

"Heh." Yue Ling shook her head, unwilling to say more on the subject.

"Young Master Ning, may Yue Ling take your pulse?"

"Miss understands medicine?"

Ning Chen asked curiously, but he obediently extended his arm.

"Long illness makes a doctor of one."

Yue Ling answered calmly, then placed her fingers on his wrist.

After a moment, Yue Ling withdrew her right hand. "Young master seems to have suffered extremely grave injuries, and also fell from a great height, severely damaging the meridians and bones in both legs."

"Miss truly is a divine physician," Ning Chen praised softly.

"I dare not call myself a divine physician. But Yue Ling is curious. For young master to survive injuries like these is truly a miracle. Which divine physician possessed such superb medical skill?"

Yue Ling asked with great curiosity. In all the world, she had never heard of anyone with such medical skill.

Ning Chen fell silent and did not answer.

Yue Ling did not press him further. Instead, she slowly said, "Actually, young master's injuries are not entirely without hope. As far as Yue Ling knows, there are at least three things in this world that can heal young master's legs."

"What things?" Ning Chen narrowed his eyes and asked.

"The Heavenly Book of the Eternal Night Divine Cult, the Heavenly Pool of the Northern Mongol Royal Court, and the Xiantian Pill of the Great Xia Imperial Palace," Yue Ling answered seriously.

"Heh." Ning Chen gave a soft laugh. "Miss must be joking."

(P.S. Please vote!)