A Moment of Terror at Fifty-Six

Little Jing was already annoyed because the Wolf of Hedong had blocked their way earlier. She hadn't had a chance to make a move, and now her hands were itching for action. So, she took her sword and stepped outside. At that moment, a voice called out from beyond, “The Cold Moon Sword’s reputation is impressive, but today I wish to face the Soul of Osmanthus from the Floral Legends.”

Xiao Yun’er found the voice strangely familiar, as if he had heard it many times before, but he couldn’t quite place it. He lifted a corner of the canvas and peered out. The moment he saw the figure of the woman in white, he knew immediately who it was.

Though the woman’s face was veiled, her eyes were unmistakable—sharp and cold as a blade. In all the world, only Snow Blossom could possess such piercing eyes. Xiao Yun’er had seen them once, and it was a memory he could never forget.

Xiao Jing was usually gentle by nature, but days of harassment from the Wolf of Hedong had left her ill at ease. Now, seeing someone act so brazenly before her, she could no longer contain herself. With a delicate yet angry shout, she called, “Where did this shrew come from, to dare block my path?” Drawing her sword, she advanced.

White Snow Blossom let out a cold laugh. “Seeking death.” Xiao Yun’er saw a flash of murderous intent in her eyes.

That chilling look was one Xiao Yun’er would never forget. He had seen it before, when Snow Blossom had killed two of Xiao Tianfeng’s men—it was the first time he had witnessed death up close.

Unthinkingly, Xiao Yun’er cried out, “Don’t!” By now, the Ninth Lady was well aware of the danger the visitor posed and hurriedly called, “Xiao Jing, come back quickly!”

Even the Ninth Lady’s voice trembled—a testament to her anxiety and fear. When facing the Wolf of Hedong and his men, she had remained calm, nowhere near as nervous as she was now. Clearly, she understood how formidable this woman was.

But it was already too late. With her skill, Snow Blossom could have ended Xiao Jing in an instant. Like a phantom, she closed in, seizing Xiao Jing’s wrist.

With a single move, Snow Blossom had already taken Xiao Jing’s sword. If not for Xiao Yun’er’s desperate shout, the outcome would have been far worse.

Recognizing Xiao Yun’er’s voice, Snow Blossom hesitated for a moment and merely disarmed Xiao Jing, sparing her life.

Snow Blossom glanced at Xiao Yun’er, her gaze complex. Then, with a cold snort, she said, “Foolish girl.” With a flick of her wrist, she sent Xiao Jing flying.

The Ninth Lady, seeing Xiao Jing about to crash to the ground, leapt up to catch her. Snow Blossom’s inner strength was formidable; the Ninth Lady had to stagger back several steps before she could steady herself.

Snow Blossom cast one last glance at Xiao Yun’er. With a slight shake of her hand, the sword she held snapped into several pieces. She tossed the broken blade aside and strode off across the snow.

Xiao Jing was pale with fright, her heart pounding—thankfully, she was unhurt. The Ninth Lady, seeing her unharmed, set her down and turned to look at Xiao Yun’er, her eyes equally complicated.

The intensity of her gaze made Xiao Yun’er feel guilty, and he lowered his head. Fortunately, the Ninth Lady said nothing. Seeing Xiao Jing had escaped injury was enough to relieve her.

Back in the carriage, Xiao Jing finally began to calm down. She asked, “Miss, who was that woman in white just now? She was terrifying.”

The Ninth Lady replied coolly, “The White-Clad Witch. To fall into her hands and escape unscathed is fortune indeed.” Xiao Jing nodded, still frightened.

She had learned her lesson: never act rashly when ignorant of an opponent’s strength. Patience is not only a virtue, but a form of cultivation. The greater one’s skill, the more one must endure.

That night, they reached Shan County and found an inn. The next morning, they set off early. By now, it was the twenty-eighth day of the twelfth lunar month.

That day, they departed from Xin’an, less than a hundred miles from Luoyang.

Originally, Xiao Yun’er hadn’t thought much of it. But now the Ninth Lady told him that they were going to Luoyang to meet her elders and sisters. As Luoyang drew closer, he began to feel uneasy, not daring to face the Dragon family.

He feared they would look down on him; he knew not everyone would like him as the Ninth Lady did. He had no talents or accomplishments—what could he possibly say to the Ninth Lady’s relatives and sisters? He imagined himself blushing and speechless.

Soon, they arrived at Luoyang. Xiao Yun’er was so nervous he couldn’t appreciate the city’s scenery.

The Ninth Lady, noticing his unease and lack of excitement compared to their journey here, asked in surprise, “What’s wrong? You seem so troubled.”

Xiao Yun’er thought for a while before replying, “Dear sister, why don’t you go on by yourself? I won’t go to the Dragon family. Let me get off here and stay at an inn. When you’ve spent the new year at home, you can fetch me back to the Ruyi Tavern, all right?”

The Ninth Lady was taken aback by his words, but then understanding dawned. She asked, “Why do you want to do that?”

Xiao Yun’er mumbled, “I… I’m afraid.”

The Ninth Lady thought, “He watched me fight the Wolf of Hedong without a trace of fear, even found it amusing. Yet now he’s afraid to go to the Dragon family.” She couldn’t help but laugh, “Afraid? What are you afraid of? No one will eat you.”

Embarrassed, Xiao Yun’er replied, “Sister, I’m afraid I don’t know the proper ways. If I say the wrong thing when I meet your relatives, I’ll make a fool of myself. If they mock me or look down on me, I don’t mind—I’ve always been a wild child from the mountains, used to being looked down on. But you’re so beautiful and noble—if you’re laughed at or belittled because of me, how could I ever face you again?”

The innocence in Xiao Yun’er’s eyes now carried a trace of self-doubt and worry, and the Ninth Lady felt a pang in her heart. In truth, she shared his sorrow.

When she had first met Xiao Yun’er, he was bold and outspoken, utterly fearless and unaware of social conventions, indifferent to the opinions of others, always doing as he pleased. That was exactly what she had admired most about him. Now, Xiao Yun’er had learned to worry for others, and she didn’t know whether to feel sad or happy.

For the Ninth Lady, when Xiao Yun’er had once gifted her a set of clothes, she had been deeply moved—he was the first young man to truly care for her.

She had wondered if she ought to like Xiao Yun’er, given the immense gulf between their statuses. She herself might not care, but she had to consider what others thought, especially her family. She was a part of her clan, after all, and its influence could easily determine her fate. But now, she had made up her mind: no matter what others thought, her affection for Xiao Yun’er would not change.