Water Moon in a Mirror, Part Two
Looking at the flames that occasionally rose into the sky in the distance, and relying on her vague memory, it took Xin Ruien some time to reach the hall filled with sword intent.
The red "river" flows down the twenty-seven steps in front of the hall, one step at a time. The smooth, thick liquid reflects the blood-red sky onto the steps.
Inside the hall, the sounds of clashing swords were fading, the intervals between them lengthening. Climbing the crimson-stained steps, more and more mutilated corpses and shattered swords came into Xin Rui'en's view.
The fiercely burning flames, like fluttering banners, stood proudly in the center of the hall. Beneath the bright white flames, indistinct figures could be seen, almost swallowed by the flames, their human forms barely discernible. Tiny specks of light split from the flames, scattering into the air, filling the entire hall like a chaotic rainstorm in a gale.
Shin Ye-eun stood in front of the main hall, but felt no warmth at all.
In the golden chair at the far end of the hall, Ling Guang's eyes had lost their light. His hands and feet were twisted, pinned to the back of the chair by four ordinary longswords. He seemed to have become part of the carving on the back of the chair, and his blood was flowing crookedly down the bodies of the thirteen golden dragons on the chair back.
Not far from the seat, beneath the golden dragon pillar, a kneeling guard stood protecting Chunhua and another man.
The pure white, bright flame leaped up, and the longsword in his hand was raised high above his head before slashing down heavily.
The river of blood rippled, shattering the sky reflected within it.
The clanging sound of the longsword rang out again, like the sound of a musical instrument.
Before the guard, a slender figure wielded a longsword, deflecting the oncoming flames time and again. Countless times they clashed and separated.
The strong wind blew off the roof, pinning the guards down and rendering them unable to move.
The breathtaking sounds and raging winds proclaim unparalleled power to the world. However, the experience is entirely different if one only perceives it with their eyes.
Shin Ye-eun is like a dancer in the fire.
In the eye of the storm, a graceful young woman danced serenely amidst the chilling light of the flames. Her swirling sweat mingled with the rain-like specks of light, shimmering with a radiance that seemed to belong not to the desert.
Shin Ye-eun stepped forward with her sword raised, changing the rhythm of her attack once again. Her longsword slashed through the darkness, striking the cold flames.
The soldier felt as if he had suddenly fallen into an endless night, unable to see anything. Only the clanging of swords echoed, like an endless, ceaseless wave.
Soon, the waves subsided into a calm lake. The guard entered a deeper "night," silent and still. Then, the pungent, fishy smell in her mouth and nose was amplified many times over, and a warm current rose from her abdomen. Her mouth opened wide, her body instinctively releasing signals of pain.
The guard could see nothing and hear nothing. But she knew she was vomiting; her mouth tasted not only of blood, but also of liquid gushing from her throat.
The smell of blood vanished in an instant. A sour taste rose on her tongue, causing the guard to cough uncontrollably. She looked around frantically, but could see nothing. She tried to call out, but didn't even know if she made a sound. Only the sour taste in her mouth and the pounding of her heart kept her company.
It was the soldier's instinct that made her feel panicked from the bottom of her heart, but at the same time, reason also told her that this was Xin Ruien's sword intent.
The sour taste on his tongue finally disappeared, only his heart continued to beat. Time stretched on and on, so long that the soldier felt he was about to lose himself.
Suddenly, the guard felt someone hug her from behind. Her consciousness returned somewhat.
A frail white flower appeared swaying gently beside the guard's face. This wasn't the only one. One after another, they appeared from behind the guard.
Those slender arms that were holding the guard struggled to drag her along.
The guard raised his arm and, guided by instinct, reached for the flower floating beside him. A cold touch came from his palm; the flower twisted, scattered, and vanished without a trace.
That's not a flower, it's a flame!
The "night" collapsed from its most vulnerable edge toward its center. The overseer saw his own hand, and the stench of blood and the clang of clashing swords returned like a tidal wave.
Chunhua, who was on the edge of the battlefield, had escaped from "Night" before Jianbing and was now embracing Jianbing as they moved away from the battlefield.
Inside the main hall, sword shadows danced and sword intents intertwined. Bright white flames and the darkness painted by the "dancers" seemed to exist in a way that was both close and distant, creating an impressionistic ink painting in the center of the hall.
This was not a clash between two people! This was a battlefield of ten thousand, the clanging of swords echoing endlessly. The crisp sound, like ocean waves, swept through the entire hall.
Clang—The gleaming longsword flew into the sky.
The outcome is decided.
Xin Ruien saw the face beneath the flames. "Brother Zi'an," she called softly.
“Rui’en!” the guard shouted.
The flames contracted, bursting into a cluster of flowers that struck Xin Ruien squarely on the chest.
*
Inside the inn, whether they were from the Central Plains or were from the Hu people, almost everyone was covered in blood and their faces were unrecognizable. A Hu woman slumped against a pillar on the ground, her right hand pressed against her neck, blood still gushing from between her fingers.
The wind hadn't died down, and this inn was the only refuge for miles around. The earthen walls of this hiding place were riddled with holes, and fine sand was seeping in through them. In no time, it had submerged the woman's legs.
The woman's eyes were bloodshot as she stared fiercely ahead. Beside the earthen wall, Li Letian lay on his side, paralyzed and unable to move due to the effects of the drug.
"You Central Plains people are all madmen, using such indiscriminate attacks!" the woman cursed angrily. Then, she let out a shrill cry in the Hu language.
That's probably some kind of curse, Li Letian thought.
Yellow sand buried the left side of his face. The sandstorm continued to pour into the inn, following the traces left by Li Letian's sword intent. The quicksand that had already reached the second floor spilled down along the countless holes in the floorboards.
The woman's curses gradually subsided, and her blood-stained hand fell limply to the ground.
Li Letian looked at the ceiling, where golden rain was falling.
I've done everything I could. From now on, it's up to you. He thought this, and then he completely lost consciousness.
*
An endless desert. The dense, scorching heat enveloped every inch of Xin Ruien's skin, the slightly hot yet strangely reassuring touch making her give up the idea of moving.
Something was falling rapidly from the sky, striking the surface of the dunes with a soft rustling sound.
It's raining.
"Does it rain in this desert?" Xin Ruien wondered to herself.
She reached out and caught the miraculous raindrops. Strangely, the raindrops didn't splash, but stayed steadily in her palm.
Shin Ye-eun stared intently. Those weren't raindrops, but flames.
White flames bloomed like flowers in Xin Ruien's palm, and He Zian's tired face flashed through her mind.
“Ryan, Ryan.”
"Brother Zi'an!" Xin Rui'en woke up with a start, sweating profusely.
"Are you alright?" The guard pressed his right hand against the wound on his left arm, looking at her with concern.
Shin Ye-eun's chest remained tight for a long time. Her mind was in turmoil, and she didn't know how to respond to the soldier's concern.
A thin layer of sand covered the battered floor of the main hall. The once magnificent hall was now roofless, its carved walls riddled with holes. The wind carried the sand, entering the hall from above and through the drafty ruins.
Although it was only for a moment, Xin Ruien did see He Zi'an's face in the flames before losing consciousness. However, she wasn't sure if it was reality or a dream. Coming to her senses, Xin Ruien began to look around frantically.
"Don't worry, that guy is gone," the guard reassured him. "Thanks to you, Senior Brother, Chunhua, and me, we were lucky enough to escape with our lives."
"That guy went mad and was devoured by the Calamity Sword." Meng Zhang leaned against the Panlong Golden Pillar and said, "However, it seems that he still has a trace of consciousness left. The reason he left is probably because his individual will was fighting with the Calamity Sword, and he was struggling for control of his body."
“That’s right. No matter what, the Blood Palace can’t stay any longer. Even if that guy doesn’t come back, the Blood Palace’s other enemies will take the opportunity to come knocking.” The overseer listened silently to Meng Zhang’s words, then grabbed Xin Rui’en’s hand and said, “Do you want to come with us?”
The supervisor was right. Neither they nor Xin Ruien had the strength to fight any more battles after this one.
Perhaps following the guards who were familiar with the customs of the desert was the best choice for survival. Xin Ruien also knew this.
"I'm sorry," Shin Ye-eun said, making up her mind. "I have more important things to confirm."
“I understand. I will prepare camels, water, and dry rations for you.” The guard stared into Xin Rui’en’s eyes for a long time before saying, “The treacherous sword has headed north. Whatever you want to do, do not travel north for the next five days.”
The guard tightened his grip on Xin Rui'en's hand, and Xin Rui'en returned the grip slightly. They looked into each other's eyes, their expressions a mix of worry and gratitude. This was the girls' silent farewell.
*
Not only did they bring camels, provisions, and water, but the guards also led Xin Rui'en back to the depths of the forbidden area. This time, they turned right at the end of the wall where the portrait of Xuanyuan hung, and in one of the rooms displaying weapons, the guards selected a fine sword for Xin Rui'en.
The guards escorted Xin Rui'en to the towering stone wall, and the two never said goodbye. They both knew in their hearts that this parting was likely never to be repeated.
“Let’s leave it here,” Xin Rui’en hugged the guard and said, “I will remember these days.”
“Me too.” The guard patted Xin Rui’en on the back and said, “You Central Plains people often say, ‘Even after a thousand miles of escorting someone, we must eventually part ways.’ Go.”
"I should be the one saying that."
"Yeah?"
The two girls exchanged a knowing smile.
After waving goodbye, the supervising soldier returned to the Blood Palace. Before abandoning the palace, she still had some trivial matters to attend to. Xin Rui'en, on the other hand, headed north without hesitation.
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