Snowy Night

The valuables the mountain bandits had stolen were still tied to the horses. Ning Chen released all the horses, leaving only a small white colt behind. The colt was still young; if released, it would have a hard time surviving.

Little White Horse had clearly been frightened. It stood trembling at Ning Chen's side, scarcely daring to breathe.

Ning Chen tied Little White Horse's reins to the back of his wheelchair. Whenever he moved a step, Little White Horse followed a step.

Little White Horse carried its own feed, and Ning Chen carried his own dry rations. Neither burdened the other. They were merely companions traveling together, with no other relationship besides that.

He searched the bandits and the horses, finding quite a few things: gold and silver, cloth, poison, sleeping drugs, and a letter—a letter that had not yet been opened.

The moment Ning Chen saw the sealing wax on the letter, his brows furrowed. After reading its contents, they knitted even tighter.

For such important information to be entrusted to an ordinary person, was the writer too confident, or simply too foolish?

Ning Chen believed it was the latter, because the letter had ultimately fallen into his hands.

The road north would not change because of a single letter. Ning Chen continued onward, though with Little White Horse, his pace had become considerably faster.

Little White Horse did not have much feed. It seemed the mountain bandits had never intended to stay out committing crimes for long. Ning Chen still had some dry rations left, but he had no idea whether Little White Horse would eat them.

After traveling for more than half a day, Little White Horse was clearly far less wary of him. Sometimes, it even took the initiative to nudge his face with its muzzle.

Whenever that happened, Ning Chen would shove Little White Horse away. This fellow had no sense of hygiene at all.

A journey with company was always a little less lonely. Though Little White Horse was not human, it was smarter than many people.

It knew that it would likely have to follow the human before it from now on, so its attitude toward him grew increasingly affectionate.

Ning Chen was deeply troubled. At last, thoroughly annoyed, he simply untied the reins and let Little White Horse fend for itself.

Yet the clever Little White Horse always followed on its own. Ning Chen took one step, and it took one step after him.

Who said humans were the thickest-skinned animals in the world? Ning Chen felt that Little White Horse's hide had surpassed that of the vast majority of humans.

With no other choice, he could only let Little White Horse follow him. He did not tie the reins again. It could do whatever it pleased.

Little White Horse also sensed that Ning Chen was in a foul mood and no longer dared to approach him so easily.

Thus, a peculiar sight appeared across the wilderness: one man and one horse, neither paying any attention to the other.

Snow began falling again, white feathers drifting across the sky in a beautiful spectacle. Ning Chen did not know that shortly after he left, three figures appeared beyond the desolate forest—one man, one woman, and one eunuch. Seeing the mountain bandits' corpses scattered across the ground, all three frowned.

The man carefully searched the thirteen bandit corpses, then shook his head. "The letter has been taken."

After examining the wounds on the bandits, the woman said calmly, "The sword wounds are identical. It was one person."

"Pursue him at once."

The old eunuch looked at the wheelchair tracks and hoofprints on the ground, his voice grave.

Unfortunately, before they had pursued for long, the freshly fallen snow covered the wheelchair tracks and hoofprints once more. They could no longer determine the direction.

"Split up and search."

The old eunuch glanced toward the three directions other than the one behind them and made his decision without hesitation.

The man and woman nodded, each choosing a direction, while the old eunuch continued chasing north.

But in the boundless snowy land, how could it be easy to find one person? Besides, Ning Chen had never had a destination in the first place. He had merely been wandering at will.

The north was vast—vast beyond imagination. When Ning Chen grew tired, he spotted a village nearby and borrowed a place to stay for the night.

In truth, it was mainly because Little White Horse no longer wanted to walk. It had bitten Ning Chen's sleeve and refused to let him leave.

Though all things possessed a spirit, a horse this intelligent was truly enough to give one a headache.

The old eunuch had pursued too quickly and gone off course. He had never imagined that Ning Chen's path would be tripped up by a horse, causing him to stop walking altogether.

The village where Ning Chen stayed was utterly ordinary. Simplicity and warmth were the villagers' true nature.

The family that received Ning Chen consisted of three people: an elderly mother and a brother and sister who had yet to marry.

The elder brother was an honest, simple man, while the younger sister was a virtuous young woman. She was not beautiful, but she was delicate and pleasant-looking.

The man's hospitality contrasted sharply with the girl's shyness. Once Ning Chen entered the house, the man called for his sister to cook while he handled the household chores himself.

As a guest, Ning Chen was settled beside the warmest stove in the house. The man would not let him lift a finger.

Their father had long been bedridden, unable even to speak. The household had depended entirely on the man's support all these years. Not only had this delayed the man's marriage, but it had also become a problem for the girl to marry.

Poor children grew up early; there could be no more fitting description for the man and the girl.

Ning Chen said nothing. He quietly came to the old man's side and gently pressed his right hand against the old man's back. A faint silver light soon glimmered as strands of true qi flowed from his hand into the old man's body.

A moment later, Ning Chen withdrew his hand, turned his wheelchair, and returned to the stove.

He had done all he could. The old man's oil had run dry and his lamp had burned out; he had reached the end of his life. Recovery was impossible. All Ning Chen could do was ease his suffering and make him hurt a little less.

As for whether he might recover enough to say a word or two, that was beyond Ning Chen's control.

Birth, aging, illness, and death were the hardest things in this world to defy. Ning Chen could not do it, the Emperor could not do it, and neither could the Innate.

If anyone could accomplish it, it could only be the gods. Unfortunately, he had seen Ox-Head and Horse-Face, Black and White Impermanence, but never a god.

"Thank..."

On the bed, the old man's lips trembled. His voice was so soft that no one but Ning Chen could hear it clearly.

Ning Chen grinned and nodded in response. See? Good people always received good rewards.

Before long, the girl had finished cooking and brought the dishes to the table. Ning Chen wheeled himself over, his appetite instantly stirred. He had been hungry for a long time. After eating dry rations every day, his lips were practically worn raw.

The meal was simple, made entirely from dried vegetables the family had prepared for winter. The girl was an excellent cook, turning even such plain ingredients into fragrant dishes.

Ning Chen ate until he was stuffed, too full to eat another bite. The man's hospitality was a little excessive, and Ning Chen had been too embarrassed to refuse. In the end, he was so bloated that he had no choice but to speak up and decline the man's frightening enthusiasm.

The girl ate very little. Perhaps because there was a stranger present, her face remained red the whole time, making Ning Chen beside her feel rather awkward. He had never seen such a shy girl before.

The women he had met in the past had all been rather fierce—for example, Mu Chengxue, Qing Ling, Ninth Princess, Xia Miaoyu... Forget it. Better keep eating.

After the meal, Ning Chen naturally could not help with the washing up either. The girl's virtue was enough to make those women from earlier die of shame. He even wondered whether Mu Chengxue or Qing Ling knew what rice seedlings looked like.

Little White Horse's dinner was still the feed it carried itself. Ning Chen had no intention of improving its meal. Besides, where could he find anything in this snowy weather to improve its diet?

When night came and it was time to rest, another troublesome matter arose.

There were only two beds in the house, one large and one small. Usually, the old man and the girl squeezed into the larger bed, which also made it easier for the girl to care for her mother.

In truth, Ning Chen did not need to sleep in a bed at all. Most of the time, he merely sat in his wheelchair with his eyes closed, regulating his breath. Cultivation served as rest as well. Yet the man refused to agree, insisting that Ning Chen sleep in a bed.

Helpless, Ning Chen could only accept the arrangement. Only then did the man smile honestly. He casually found several wooden boards, laid them across two stools, and made himself a simple bed.

The wind howled fiercely at night. Ning Chen lay in bed, quietly listening to the wind outside, yet sleepiness did not touch him in the slightest.

It was not that he did not want to sleep. It was because it had begun snowing outside again.

The excruciating pain in his legs came wave after wave, each more violent than the last. Ning Chen had grown used to it, but that did not mean he could not feel it.

Suddenly, dogs began barking outside the village. The next instant, the barking stopped, vanishing without a trace.

Beneath a hay shelter not far from the house, Little White Horse snorted heavily, as though warning someone inside.

Ning Chen rose, sat in his wheelchair, and quietly went outside.

Someone had arrived—and it was a martial artist.

Ning Chen was not stupid. On the contrary, he was smarter than many people. He knew the visitor had come for the letter in his possession.

When the old eunuch saw Ning Chen in the wheelchair, he was visibly startled. Clearly, he recognized Ning Chen.

In fact, many people in the palace had seen Ning Chen. Back then, he had been a scholar, a hero, lightning, light, the one and only legend.

Today, however, he had become a cripple being hunted down.

The old eunuch did not understand. In his impression, Ning Chen should still have been in the Zhenji Kingdom. How had he appeared here?

Ning Chen did not know the old eunuch. There were so many eunuchs in the palace; how could he know every one of them? But he was very familiar with the clothes that damned eunuch wore.

They were the clothes of the Western Palace. The garments of the various palaces in the Summer Palace were mostly similar, though they had subtle distinctions. Ning Chen had spent no short time in the palace, so naturally he understood some of them.

After pursuing for some time without finding Ning Chen, the old eunuch had no choice but to turn back. Passing through the village, he learned that a young man had entered at dusk, and he knew he had found the right place.

The old eunuch was a Sixth-Rank martial arts expert, considerably stronger than Ning Chen. Not to mention, one was whole while the other was disabled.

Oh, no. They were both disabled, just disabled in different places.

But no matter how one put it, the gap in their strength was truly enormous.

The old eunuch intended to kill everyone who had seen the letter, so without another word, he struck Ning Chen with his palm.

Ning Chen raised his blade to block. At once, he felt an immense force crash into him, sending both him and his wheelchair flying three zhang backward with a bang, smashing through Little White Horse's hay shelter.

Little White Horse was shocked and enraged. That was where it hid from the snow. If it was destroyed, where would it sleep that night?

Little White Horse used both its mouth and hooves to dig Ning Chen out of the haystack, only to see him cough up a mouthful of blood that dyed a wide stretch of snow before him red.

"Get aside. Don't get in the way."

Ning Chen shoved Little White Horse aside. A disabled person was fighting; what was a horse joining in for?

Even if it wanted to help a disabled person, it should not be a horse doing it.

Ning Chen righted the wheelchair and sat back down. Fortunately, his hands were not disabled, or he would not even have been able to get back into the wheelchair.

The Woodcutter's Blade in his hand had already warped, with a large dent caved into it. The old eunuch's right hand was unbelievably strong, making Ning Chen feel sick for quite some time.

How was he supposed to fight this? There was simply no way to fight.

He tried bending the warped Woodcutter's Blade back with both hands, only to discover that it was essentially ruined. No matter how he bent it, it would not straighten again.

The old eunuch had initially worried that Ning Chen might have some hidden move. Yet after one exchange, he understood Ning Chen's strength completely.

Four words: utterly unable to withstand a single blow.

His cultivation was lacking, his techniques were lacking, and his experience was even worse. Other than being somewhat quick to react, he had nothing going for him.

Ning Chen did not know what the old eunuch was thinking. Otherwise, he would surely have exploded with rage.

All Ning Chen felt was that the old eunuch was strong—stronger than him.

In truth, the assessments they gave each other already revealed the gap between them. One was a rookie in martial arts, the other a seasoned veteran of the jianghu. There was truly nothing about them that could be mentioned in the same breath.

The wind and snow outside grew fiercer and fiercer, while Ning Chen's eyes narrowed tighter and tighter. This battle would be troublesome...