"Dust and smoke along the mortal road to immortality" - An icy heart in a jade vessel, a pure grace resting on clouds and dining on snow

Across eight thousand li of mountains and rivers, reaching this place within half a day had been no small feat. Yet barely had Xing Yan reached the hillside when he saw the girl about to take the road of no return. With no other choice, he raised the jade flute, Divine Snow. Amid the chaos of war, its notes suddenly rose, soft and haunting, as though sounding beside every listener's ear. Those caught within it did not know how utterly this moment differed from the last. An observer outside it, however, would have noticed: horses were charging like tempests, men surging like dragons, battle cries filling the skies and horns boiling all around-how could a thread of flute music, clear and cool as spring water, be heard so distinctly? Weapons stilled. Hooves halted. When the ethereal music faded, amid the thousands of troops, only the girl who had just slipped free of the three-foot strip of white silk could still move.

"Xing Yan?"

As the flute fell silent, she turned her head, trembling. Sunshine covered the hillside to the south. Amid greenery so bright it dazzled the eyes, a tall, gleaming white horse stood proudly. In its silver saddle sat a young man of clear, handsome bearing, his robes spreading more brilliantly than the snowy steed or white clouds. He seemed to be looking straight at her.

...Just as she had once seen him in some dream that called her soul back, drifting lightly toward her from the depths of spring like a white cloud, coming gracefully before her. Real or unreal? A dream, or not a dream...

Everything seemed a dream. Only when he reached her did something differ slightly. Just as the grief-stricken girl was about to throw herself into his arms and weep, the newcomer suddenly lifted