Xueling Xuanzong
The smoke of war at Hangu Pass and the mournful sound of the Wei River were left far behind. As Xiao Yuxuan's troops, escorting supplies and carrying the few dozen surviving refugees from Yongqiu, plunged into the vast mountains bordering Longxi and Beidi, the seasons seemed to be brutally twisted by an invisible giant hand. The bleakness of late autumn suddenly froze into the harshness of midwinter the moment they stepped onto the snow line.
The biting wind was no longer just wind, but a million invisible ice blades, carrying hard snowflakes, emitting a piercing shriek, relentlessly cutting through exposed skin, icy armor, and weary nerves. The sky, a leaden-gray iron plate, pressed heavily upon the rugged snow-capped peaks, offering no warmth. As far as the eye could see, there was only endless, undulating, deathly white. Steep ridges, like the spines of giant dragons, were covered with thick blankets of snow, ready to collapse at any moment. Bottomless crevasses, like gaping maws of the earth, were hidden in the snow mist.
The march turned into a grueling ordeal, a struggle against the might of heaven and earth.
"Creak...creak..."
Their boots sank deep into the knee-deep snow, each step accompanied by biting cold and a tearing, muscle-wrenching pain. The heavy bronze armor, in the frigid temperature, became like an ice coffin, tightly binding their bodies and sucking away every last drop of warmth. Their breath instantly condensed into ice crystals, clinging to their eyebrows, beards, and helmet edges like white masks of death. The soldiers trudged on in silence, their ranks long since broken, each man hunched over, using halberds or wooden sticks for support, like ants struggling for survival in a white desert. Supply carts sank deep into snowdrifts, impassable despite whipping and shouting, eventually abandoned by the roadside, covered in thick snow. Among the refugees, people frequently collapsed, curling up in the snow, quickly swallowed by the wind and snow, never to rise again.
"General! We can't go any further!" Sheng Guo's voice was hoarse and cracked, his lips frozen purple. He struggled to push aside the icicles in front of him and pointed to a steep snow slope ahead, as if cleaved by a knife and axe. "'Eagle's Sorrow Gorge'! The wind is too strong, the snow is too deep, and one of the brothers who were scouting ahead... slipped and fell, without even a sound!"
Xiao Yuxuan stopped, the old wound under his ribs throbbing faintly in the bitter cold, each breath feeling like inhaling countless icy needles. He looked up at the massive snow slope known locally as "Eagle's Sorrow Gorge," its incline exceeding sixty degrees, covered in a thick layer of fresh snow. The swirling wind had created a dangerously smooth, mirror-like snow crust. Below lay a bottomless, dark, icy valley, the churning snow mist resembling the gaping maw of a predatory beast. The wind here sounded exceptionally mournful, like the wailing of ghosts.
"Take a detour?" he asked with difficulty, his voice shattered by the wind.
"A detour...it'll take at least three more days! Our supplies...we're about to run out!" Sheng Guo's voice was filled with despair. The few remaining bags of millet in the column had long since frozen solid, and the dried meat was almost gone. Hunger and cold had driven morale to rocky lows. The French military commander, his face grim, huddled in a relatively sheltered rocky hollow, his cold gaze sweeping over the exhausted soldiers and shivering refugees before finally settling on Xiao Yuxuan. The meaning was clear—it was time to make a "choice."
Just then, a suppressed gasp came from the front of the group.
"General! Come quick!" A squad leader who had been scouting ahead came running back, his face filled with disbelief, pointing to a huge, relatively sheltered rock depression below the snow slope of Eagle's Sorrow Gorge.
Xiao Yuxuan and Sheng Guo exchanged a glance and forced themselves to walk over. The scene before them stunned them instantly.
On that sunken, relatively sheltered patch of snow, dozens of items wrapped in coarse linen were neatly arranged! Beside them, several simple yet clear arrows were carved into the snow with a sharpened stick, pointing to the depths of the rocky depression.
Sheng Guo crouched down warily and carefully untied one of the packages. Inside were two flat boards cleverly woven from tough vines and hardwood, with holes along the edges and sturdy leather straps! He picked one up, compared it to his feet, and his eyes suddenly lit up: "This...this is for walking on snow! You tie it to your feet and you can walk on the snow without sinking!" He immediately recognized these simple yet extremely practical snowshoes!
The other package contained dozens of claw-shaped objects, carved from animal horns or tough hardwood and studded with sharp barbs, also accompanied by leather straps. "Crampons!" Sheng Guo exclaimed excitedly, "For climbing ice slopes and snow walls! These are amazing!"
The soldiers gathered around at the sound, and seeing these treasures for survival in the snow, a glimmer of hope finally ignited in their numb and desperate eyes. They couldn't wait to distribute and try on the snowshoes, clumsily strapping crampons to their boots.
Xiao Yuxuan's gaze, however, bypassed these objects and fell upon the deeper recesses in the rock. There, near the cold rock wall, a low, arched entrance seemed to have been cleverly constructed and pounded out with accumulated snow, allowing only one person to bend down and enter.
"There seems to be something inside!" A soldier curiously peered inside, then exclaimed even more dramatically, "It's...it's a hole! It's sheltered from the wind! And...and there's firewood!"
Xiao Yuxuan's heart skipped a beat, and he immediately bent down and crawled inside. The entrance was narrow, but the interior space was unexpectedly spacious and dry. The rock walls were clearly naturally formed caves, but the ground and ceiling had been carefully reinforced with snow and gravel, insulating most of the cold air. In one corner of the cave, a number of dry pine branches and withered grass were neatly piled up, clearly prepared as fuel. Even more astonishing was a relatively smooth area on the cave wall, where several extremely simple symbols appeared to be drawn with charcoal—a gear-like pattern, next to which was a neat diamond-shaped knot. The mark of the Mohist school!
“It’s someone from the Mohist school!” Sheng Guo followed them in, saw the symbol, and blurted out, “Is it that…that one who caused trouble at the armory?” He was referring to Jing Zhi, who mysteriously appeared in Chapter 5, “The Wall of Non-Aggression.”
Xiao Yuxuan nodded silently, his heart churning with turmoil. Jing Zhi! That exiled Mohist with an almost obsessive fear of the misuse of technology! She actually appeared in this desolate place? And what she left behind wasn't weapons, but purely survival tools and shelter! This perfectly aligned with her creed of "non-aggression," using technology only for defense and survival! Had she been secretly monitoring this team all along? Was that eerie "avalanche" he glimpsed on the snow slope last night also a warning trap she had laid?
"Quickly! Get those who can still move in in shifts to take shelter from the wind and warm themselves! Light the firewood!" Xiao Yuxuan suppressed his shock and quickly gave the order. This shelter was a godsend!
With snowshoes and crampons, the threat of death while crossing Eagle's Sorrow Gorge was greatly reduced. The soldiers split into small teams, supporting each other, using their crampons to firmly grip the slippery snow crust, and climbing upwards with difficulty but stability using their snowshoes. Although still fraught with danger, no one fell into the abyss again. Although they could not carry their supplies, traveling light, the team finally crossed this formidable chasm safely before dusk.
After crossing the mountain ridge, the wind and snow seemed to intensify. The sky darkened rapidly, and visibility decreased to less than ten steps. The team was completely lost in the vast sea of snow. Hunger and cold gripped them, and despair once again enveloped them.
"General! There seems to be a road sign ahead!" It was that sharp-eyed squad leader again, pointing to a huge rock half-hidden in the snow and shouting in the blizzard.
The group struggled to get closer. On the leeward side of the boulder, an arrow pointing southeast had been clearly carved with a sharp tool! Below the arrow, there was a line of small characters, almost completely obscured by the wind and snow: "Follow this path for three miles, and find shelter from the wind."
"It's her again!" Sheng Guo's voice was filled with awe. This mysterious guidance was like a lighthouse in the darkness.
Following the direction indicated by the arrows, the team trudged for about three miles through waist-deep snow. Sure enough, behind a natural barrier formed by a huge fold in the mountain, they discovered a cave entrance that was even larger and more hidden than the one they had seen at Eagle's Sorrow Gorge! The entrance was also cleverly disguised by the snow, and would have been extremely difficult to spot without clear guidance.
The cave was spacious enough to accommodate the entire group. Even more surprising, besides a large amount of firewood, there were even several frozen, hard tuberous food items wrapped in thick bark in a corner, as well as a small pile of dried grass leaves emitting a bitter medicinal aroma! On a flat stone nearby, the Mo family's signature gear and square knot mark was still carved in charcoal, with a new line of text added beside it:
"Food: Fern root, can be boiled and eaten. Herb: Dispels cold, can be taken with boiling water. Use fire with caution, as smoke can attract enemies. Non-aggression."
The handwriting is simple, cold, and devoid of any emotion, yet it is like a ray of light in the dead of winter.
Soldiers and refugees erupted in cheers of relief and rushed inside. They eagerly lit campfires, melted snow, and tossed the hard, bony fern roots and tubers into earthenware pots to boil. Soon, a fragrant aroma, earthy yet comforting to the hungry, filled the cave. They then added herbs to the boiling water; the bitter broth warmed their bodies, and a gentle warmth slowly dispelled the chill.
Xiao Yuxuan did not participate in the brief jubilation. He stood alone at the cave entrance, gazing at the raging wind and snow outside, clutching tightly in his hand several pieces of wood he had found in a corner of the cave—smooth-edged pieces that were clearly meticulously polished. The Mohist mark was clearly carved on the wood, and next to it was a miniature, intricately designed mechanism model—one of the core components of the city-defense crossbow that Ji Zhai had been so proud of, later modified by Legalist craftsmen to enhance its lethality! This was clearly left behind by Jing Zhi, a silent reminder of her identity and her profound pain over the distortion of technology.
“Bai Jiang,” Sheng Guo walked over carrying a steaming bowl of fern root soup, following Xiao Yuxuan’s gaze to the boundless wind and snow outside the cave, her voice low, “This woman from the Mo family… appears and disappears like a dragon, leaving behind things to save lives, yet never showing her face. None of what she left behind… can be used to kill. All for the sake of the two words ‘non-aggression’?”
Xiao Yuxuan didn't answer, only clutching the wooden piece engraved with the crossbow component tightly in his hand. Jing Zhi's figure seemed to be amidst the swirling snow, silent, vigilant, bearing the pain of losing her comrades and the fear of the all-pervasive power, yet unable to completely relinquish her protectiveness of life. The snowshoes, crampons, shelter, food, herbs, and even the avalanche trap she left behind—all were manifestations of her "conservative" skills, strictly confined to the realm of pure survival and passive defense. She was like a guardian walking on a knife's edge, using what she considered "safe" methods to painstakingly practice the ideals of "universal love" and "non-aggression" in this chaotic world.
The mysterious traces atop these snow-capped mountains left behind not only a glimmer of hope for life, but also a chilling imprint of technological boundaries, unwavering ideals, and survival in a chaotic world. The warmth of the campfire dispelled the chill, but Jing Zhi's silent presence and the cold words "non-aggression" cast an even deeper and more complex shadow on Xiao Yuxuan's heart. This shadow, along with Gu Yan's cunning and the ruthless ironclad rules of Legalism, intertwined on this chessboard shrouded in wind and snow.
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