Snowbird Returns
The morning light pierced through the thin mist, gently scattering across the small courtyard atop the mountain.
The air was filled with the fragrance of earth.
The air is filled with the aroma of herbs and the slightly salty steam unique to hot springs, a calming power enveloping this place.
The days flowed silently in this healing tranquility, the fragrance of ink from books, Xuan Chenzi's all-knowing gaze as he occasionally offered his insights into worldly affairs in the corridor, Shuangren's deep snores, Lanying's elegant pacing, and Heiqiu's satisfied humming, like a tireless stream deep in a valley.
Her once pale face has now been quietly tinged with a healthy blush.
Zhou Nian'an stood at the edge of the herb garden, the sunlight outlining his no longer rugged features.
He took a deep breath, but the familiar, heart-wrenching cough did not come from his chest.
He could even carefully crouch down.
Following the example of the girl next to me, I stretched out my slightly chubby fingers and gently touched a plant with serrated leaf edges.
"Sister Daya, is this... the Bupleurum that Master mentioned?"
His voice carried a hint of long-lost joy.
The children's thin limbs, like tender branches soaked with spring rain, are gradually gathering strength.
Those eyes, once filled with deathly stillness and numbness, now reflect the light of the sky and the shadows of the clouds.
It shimmered with a light that was curious about everything around it.
A butterfly fluttering its wings, a peculiar leaf, an ancient story told by Xuan Chenzi—all these evoke a glimmer of curiosity.
Beneath that light, a naive and timid hope was quietly sprouting.
Shen Hong sat cross-legged on the bluestone in the corner of the courtyard, with his eyes closed.
His aura seemed clearer than yesterday.
An invisible ripple mingled silently with the mountain's spiritual energy as he breathed, and a few glistening dewdrops seemed to be drawn by an invisible hand.
It slowly slid down from the tip of the blade of grass, hovering about an inch above his outstretched palm, trembling slightly.
A little further away, Little Stone put two fingers in his mouth and made a series of clear and peculiar bird calls.
A moment later, several tits fluttered out from the woods and circled twice above his head.
The small stone pointed to a shrubbery below the slope, laden with red berries.
The birds, like soldiers on command, swooped down with joyful cries.
A little while later, it flew back with a few bright red berries in its beak and carefully placed them on a clean stone slab at the foot of the small stone.
In the herb garden, Suihe is skillfully watering a patch of newly sprouting seedlings.
She moved nimbly, her eyes were focused, and she knew the properties of various herbs like the back of her hand.
Xuan Chenzi stood to the side, stroking his beard, occasionally offering a few words of advice in a low voice.
She immediately understood and adjusted her technique, becoming an indispensable little helper to the elderly man.
The air is filled with the aroma of herbs and teeming with life.
Especially those few purple ginseng plants.
Purple spike-like flowers emerge from the tips of slender stems, swaying their delicate forms in the cool morning breeze.
On the newly reclaimed land outside the courtyard, tiny green shoots stubbornly broke through the dark brown soil.
Those were the tender seedlings of autumn millet, stretching out their delicate leaves and greedily absorbing the sunlight.
The hillside near the warm spring water.
The transplanted cotton seedlings are growing exceptionally well.
Among the lush green leaves, a few fuzzy, bluish-white cotton bolls can already be vaguely seen, shyly peeking out.
Frostblade's massive body, like a warm rock, lay prone at the courtyard gate, its golden eyes half-closed.
Be constantly vigilant for any presence that does not belong here.
Lan Ying, like an elegant silver shadow, silently strolled along the fence, surveying the area.
The black ball spread itself out like a thick black blanket.
It lay basking on a sunny rock, its belly round and plump, with a bit of golden honey still clinging to its mouth, glistening in the sunlight.
In the distant woods, Jinbao's golden-red figure moved with lightning speed, swinging back and forth among the branches.
It left behind a string of soft, cheerful rustling sounds.
Smoke curled up from the kitchen chimney.
The little bull wears his signature little apron.
She was carefully stirring a pot of fragrant medicinal porridge.
She would also peek out from time to time to check on her younger siblings playing outside, making sure they were all safe and sound.
This world, like a meticulously crafted piece of amber, encapsulates healing tranquility and budding hope.
It is so captivating that one almost forgets the hardships outside the mountains.
However, this frozen beauty was suddenly shattered by a shrill, mournful bird cry.
Almost simultaneously.
Lan Ying, who was strolling gracefully along the fence, suddenly stopped in her tracks.
Its silver-gray head was held high.
Sharp golden pupils were fixed on the northern horizon.
A low, warning growl rolled from his throat—
Even the hair on its neck was standing on end.
A white shadow, swift as lightning, carrying the biting cold unique to the north, pierced through the thin mist and plummeted into the courtyard.
"Bang!" A dull thud.
"Ah!" The little bull, who was carrying a bowl of hot porridge out of the kitchen, was so startled that his hand trembled.
The scalding hot porridge almost spilled out.
Ignoring the heat, he hurriedly put down the bowl and rushed to the stone table, his face ashen.
Little Stone reacted the fastest, his tiny figure already pounced on the edge of the table.
It emitted urgent and concerned bird calls, attempting to communicate with the fallen bird.
It was a strange bird, entirely white, not large in size, but with eyes as sharp as ice. Exhausted, it lay on the stone table, its snow-white feathers stained with dark red, dried blood, and a blood-stained strip of cloth bound to one of its claws.
Ling Zhan recognized the color and texture of the fabric; it was from Hu Zi's underwear!
Her heart sank suddenly, as if she had fallen into an ice cave.
My fingertips touched the cold strip of cloth—
A cruel atmosphere, a mixture of blood, gunpowder smoke, and ice and snow, rushed towards us.
It instantly dispelled all the warmth and medicinal fragrance from the mountaintop.
Xuan Chenzi appeared silently beside her.
The aged fingers gently stroked the snowbird's trembling wings.
His gaze fell on the glaring bloodstains, and his deeply lined face instantly hardened with an iron-like expression.
"The northern frontier... is dangerous."
His voice was deep, carrying the weight of someone who had seen through the ways of the world.
"The snowbird is stained with blood, an urgent message arrives from a hundred miles away, Tiger is in grave danger."
No further explanation is needed.
The air in the courtyard seemed to freeze.
The little bull saw clearly the blood-stained strip of cloth.
His fist clenched instantly, his knuckles turned white, his lips trembled, but he couldn't utter a single word.
His eyes were filled with immense horror and worry.
The air in the courtyard seemed to freeze.
The children stopped playing and gathered around.
Zhou Nian'an's face turned pale again, and she tightly gripped Daya's clothes.
Shen Hong jumped down from the bluestone, his clear eyes reflecting the snowbird's miserable state.
For the first time, the pure aura surrounding him showed obvious signs of disorder and ripples.
Little Stone raised his head, his face tense.
She said urgently to Ling Zhan, "Mom! The bird is scared! It came from a cold and chaotic place, and Brother Hu... there's blood! It's terrible! The bird's senses... over there!"
He pointed northwest, his eyes filled with unwavering anxiety.
"I'll go."
Ling Zhan's voice was resolute and unwavering.
The gentleness in her eyes was tempered into ice, leaving only a piercing sharpness.
Xuan Chenzi gave her a deep look, his gaze containing so much.
Worry, understanding, and a hint of barely perceptible approval.
“The children cannot be left alone, the foundation is not yet stable, and this place also needs to be protected. The old Taoist priest will stay.”
He was concise and to the point, making the safest arrangement.
He stayed, and the mountaintop remained a fortress.
"Hong'er, come with me." Ling Zhan's gaze turned to the boy.
Shen Hong has a keen sensitivity to the spiritual energy of heaven and earth.
Perhaps the chaotic battlefield in the northern frontier will become the most crucial key to finding Tiger.
Shen Hong nodded vigorously, his face tense, his eyes filled with a determination beyond his years.
The moment Ling Zhan finished speaking!
Lan Ying, who had been anxiously growling and blocking the path down the mountain, suddenly rushed in front of Ling Zhan.
Their strong bodies completely blocked their path!
Its golden eyes burned with an unprecedented urgency and determination.
He held Ling Zhan tightly, letting out a short, high-pitched, almost commanding low howl.
Its tail swept rapidly from side to side.
Its front paws even pawed at the ground uneasily, its entire body tense like a fully drawn bowstring—
That gesture conveyed one message with absolute clarity: Take me there! I must go!
Ling Zhan looked at the almost human anxiety and determination in Lan Ying's eyes.
She understood instantly. Without further hesitation, she nodded emphatically:
"Alright! Lan Ying, come with me!"
Pack your simple luggage quickly.
The little bull suppressed the turmoil in his heart and rushed to the kitchen with nimble movements.
He quickly packed a large bag of his specially made, long-lasting and filling dried meat and hard bread.
They stuffed several water pouches into Ling Zhan and Shen Hong's luggage.
He bit his lower lip, stuffed the item into Shen Hong's hand, and uttered only one sentence in a hoarse voice.
"Mother, Hong-ge, Lan-ying, you must bring Brother Hu-zi back!"
Little Stone quickly ran back into the house and took out a small leather bag.
Inside were some herbal powders he had collected for protection against wind and cold.
He handed it to Shen Hong: "Brother, hold this in your mouth when it's cold."
She took one last deep look at the land that had given her a brief moment of peace, imprinting the image in her heart, before resolutely turning away.
The little bull's tightly pursed lips.
Little Stone's worried eyes.
Suihe held Zhou Nian'an's hand tightly...
She etched this scene deep into her heart, and then resolutely turned away.
A low growl rolled from Frostblade's throat as its massive head rubbed against her leg.
The black ball had its round ears perked up and its beady black eyes staring at her.
It seems I've figured something out.
Jinbao let out a few short chirps from the highest treetop.
“Mother…Brother Hu, he…” Daya’s voice was choked with sobs.
Xuan Chenzi placed his hand on her head, his voice steady and strong: "Guard the home, look after your younger brother and sister. Wait for them to come back."
Ling Zhan nodded to the old Taoist priest, everything was understood without words.
She took Shen Hong's hand; the boy's palm was icy cold but carried a strange sense of power.
Lan Ying could no longer contain herself.
With a low roar, his agile figure shot out like a silver arrow and rushed into the downhill path!
"Walk!"
With a sharp shout, she shot off like an arrow.
They quickly disappeared down the mountain path with Shen Hong and Lan Ying in tow.
Heading north, towards that bitterly cold land stained with blood and fire, they sped off.
She didn't know.
Just before the snowbird reached the mountain peak, a weary figure, upon receiving a secret report of danger in the northern frontier, charged forward like a raging thunderbolt, single-handedly tearing through numerous passes, recklessly advancing in the same direction—the core of Tiger's peril.
He entered that battlefield even earlier than she did.
The further northwest you go, the more biting the wind becomes, like a tangible blade, carrying fine, sand-like snow particles—
It cuts into exposed skin relentlessly.
The world was a vast expanse of white, with lead-gray clouds hanging low, as if to crush this bitterly cold land completely.
The breath he exhaled instantly condensed into white frost, hanging on his eyebrows, temples, and even his eyelashes were covered with tiny ice crystals.
Horse hooves pounded on the official road, which was frozen as hard as iron.
It makes a dull and monotonous "dede" sound.
Every step felt like walking on an icy river, the chill seeping into my bones through the thick leather boots.
Looking out, apart from a few withered trees with icicles hanging from them and shaped like ghost claws stubbornly sticking out of the snow, there was only an endless, desolate snowfield, where even birds had disappeared.
The bitter cold of northern Xinjiang is not just cold, but a slow, malicious chill that intends to freeze life along with hope.
Shen Hong was wrapped in a thick fur coat.
His face was blue from the cold, and his lips were bloodless, but he tried to straighten his back, his clear eyes scanning his surroundings warily.
His perception of the spiritual energy of heaven and earth became exceptionally sensitive in this land shrouded in ice and snow and a faint aura of killing intent.
It was as if one could "hear" the faint echoes of distant clashing swords carried on the wind.
That evening, the wind and snow intensified, and both men and horses were exhausted.
A faint light finally appeared ahead—
It is a simple inn standing alone in the wind and snow.
The tattered signboard fluttered in the gale, like a dying arm struggling.
The inn's lobby was filled with a murky odor, a mixture of cheap liquor, sweat, animal odor, and damp firewood smoke.
Several traveling merchants sat around a charcoal brazier, warming themselves and talking in hushed tones.
The sound was muffled against the backdrop of howling wind and snow.
Ling Zhan, accompanied by Shen Hong and Lan Ying who was following closely behind, had silver hair covered in snowflakes but still alertly perked up, and whose golden eyes scanned the dim corner, found a corner to sit down. They ordered hot soup and coarse dry biscuits, eating silently while their ears picked up on the movements around them.
"...This year's leather business is a complete disaster!"
A hunchbacked merchant with a weathered face spat.
"The north is in complete chaos, trade routes are completely cut off! I heard even the Zhenbei Army..."
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