A robe of red lent beauty to the snow,
Two sleeves swept upward, stirring Fuyao and cold tears.
Two or three silver flasks warmed exquisite plum wine,
On every side, the wind called wanderers home...
Clad in red, Pingle lightly danced her sword through the snow, the fallen flakes swept up by her sleeves like tears shed by the cold.
Min'an warmed plum wine nearby, watching his imperial elder sister play in the snow, her red robe amid the boundless white. Deep bewilderment showed in his eyes.
"How long have we been in this trial?" Min'an looked at the wine cup in his hand, which also reflected the white filling the sky.
"It seems... I can't remember anymore."
The figure in red seemed tired of dancing as well. She turned, walked over to Min'an, and sat down before him. Seeing the bewilderment filling the reflection in his wine, she slowly sighed.
"Imperial Sister..." Min'an poured a cup from the flask and set it before Pingle, asking softly, "Has your sword heart ever been lost?"
Pingle took the cup and drained it in one swallow. Setting the empty cup down, she calmly shook her head. "No!"
"What does your sword heart seek to sever?" Min'an asked.
Pingle looked at Min'an and slowly asked, "Who said what a sword heart seeks must be to sever?"
"Then what is it?" Min'an was puzzled.
"A sword heart is simply a sword heart. It can sever, and it can protect. Sever what you wish to sever; protect those I wish to protect," Pingle said calmly.
Min'an froze. Looking at Pingle before him, he slowly said, "Third Senior Sister, you've been awake for a while, haven't you?"
Pingle silently nodded.
"Why haven't you gone back?" Min'an asked.
"Because you haven't figured things out yet. I am