Twenty years ago, Cai Pingshu was not the only woman the martial world feared and admired. There was also Luo Yuanrong of Taichu Temple.
She was the orphaned niece of Canghuan Zi, the temple's leader at the time — his late sister's daughter, taken in young and trained with every care. Where Cai Pingshu was blunt and battle-hardened, Luo Yuanrong was her opposite: beautiful, composed, sharp as winter air. The martial world called her the Frost Fairy, and the name fit.
She had three senior brothers. Wu Yuanying, the eldest, was bold and heroic, beloved by all who knew him. Wang Yuanjing, the second, was gentle and thoughtful. Qiu Yuanfeng, the third, was hot-tempered and impossible to reason with. For years, Luo Yuanrong was the youngest and most cherished disciple in Taichu Temple — doted on, protected, never doubting her place.
Her eldest brother often climbed to Wanshui Qianshan Cliff with a jar of wine, and she went with him. That was how she came to know the Yin sisters. She was especially fond of Yin Sulian, who had quietly understood her feelings long before Luo Yuanrong herself had put words to them. At banquets, Yin Sulian always found a reason to seat her next to Wu Yuanying. He was a man who loved drinking and loud conversation, talking mostly of things she couldn't follow. It didn't matter. Just sitting beside him was enough.
She had thought, more than once: if he never wanted her as a partner, she would simply remain in Taichu Temple alone, a celibate Taoist nun, quietly growing old. That would be enough.
Even that quiet wish was taken from her.
"Fourth Junior Sister." Qiu Yuanfeng's face had gone pale. "Haven't you done enough? Wu Gang, Wu Xiong — why are you two encouraging this madness?" He turned the last part toward the two middle-aged disciples standing behind Luo Yuanrong.
Cangqiong Zi's voice dropped to something cold and final. "Today is the two-hundredth death anniversary of our ancestor. A sacred occasion. And you choose this day to cause trouble." He gripped the arms of his wheelchair. "Your senior brothers tolerated you because your parents died young. But you've injured people today. As your uncle, I can no longer look away. Yuanfeng — take her. Dead or alive."
"Uncle, Brother —" Wang Yuanjing stepped forward, distressed. "For our master's sake, please. Yuanrong is stubborn, but this doesn't warrant a death sentence."
Qiu Yuanfeng brushed him aside with a flick of his sleeve and walked forward. "Sister. Surrender for our master's sake. I won't hurt you."
Luo Yuanrong didn't spare him a glance. She looked past him, directly at Qi Yunke. "Sect Leader Qi. May I speak?"
Qi Yunke exhaled slowly. "Lady Luo. I know what you wish to say. I think most of us here do. Brother Yuanying's death grieved us all. But the dead cannot return." He paused. "You need to let him go."
Nearby, Cai Zhao turned to her mother. "What are they talking about?"
Ning Xiaofeng, to her daughter's surprise, looked equally lost. "I don't know. Your father never mentioned it."
Cai Zhao stared. "Didn't they just say everyone in the martial world knows about it?"
Ning Xiaofeng tilted her head. "Ever since your aunt snapped Taichu Temple's treasured sword at the Six Sects' Grand Tournament, our two sects stopped talking. Naturally, Luoying Valley wouldn't know their private affairs." She paused, then added with feeling: "And honestly, what was so precious about that sword? If it was so fragile, why bring it to a competition? One twist and it broke. Your aunt was just as shocked. It was more brittle than a carrot."
Cai Zhao sighed. "Aunt could have at least apologized properly."
"She did apologize! She told them sincerely: had she known the sword was so delicate, she would never have used full strength. She truly didn't mean to."
Cai Zhao stared in silence.
Chang Ning said evenly, "If they couldn't accept a sincere apology, then Taichu Temple is in the wrong."
Fan Xingjia and Cai Zhao said nothing. Ning Xiaofeng looked at Chang Ning with new warmth.
Across the hall, Luo Yuanrong spoke again. Her voice was steady. "Venerable Fakong. I did not choose this day to cause a scene. But without these righteous witnesses present, I feared the truth would never surface. For the sake of my late uncle — please. Allow me to speak."
Her use of "uncle" rather than "master" was noticed by everyone. She no longer considered herself a disciple of Taichu Temple.
Venerable Fakong was quiet for a moment, then turned to survey the gathered crowd. "Given where things stand, forced silence will only breed more resentment. Let her speak openly. Clearing up grievances before our ancestor's spirit is not improper."
Before Qi Yunke could respond, Qiu Yuanfeng cut in. "Venerable, you speak as though this is a small matter. How is any of this to be cleared up? The Torrential Thunderstorm was Elder Tianxuan's most lethal weapon. How did Luo Yuanrong come to possess it? She must have dealings with the demonic cult. That alone is damning. And the brothers she injured today — should that simply be forgiven? Taichu Temple must handle this ourselves."
Even Venerable Fakong had no easy answer to that.
Cai Pingchun spoke up calmly. "I can't speak to whether she has ties to the cult. But Luoying Valley holds the antidote for the Torrential Thunderstorm. Those injured today can be treated. There is no cause for urgency on that point."
Zhou Zhizhen nodded. "Elder Tianxuan used that poison to wound countless righteous fighters, my father among them. It was only because of Cai Changfeng's sacrifice — killing Tianxuan and returning the poison for analysis — that so many lives were saved."
A broad-shouldered man stepped forward and said loudly, "My master and senior master were both cured of that poison by Luoying Valley. They're still home arguing over nothing and boasting to their grandchildren."
Laughter moved through the hall, followed by a wave of gratitude toward Cai Pingchun.
Cai Zhao quietly tugged at her mother's sleeve. "Mother. Is that why Grand-uncle died of his injuries?"
"Yes." Ning Xiaofeng stroked her daughter's hair gently. "But it was worth it. Elder Tianxuan spent his life creating poisons, pursuing the most yin and toxic substance in existence — he would do anything to achieve it. Don't grieve. Your grand-uncle went peacefully."
Fan Xingjia murmured, more to herself than anyone, "How many monsters does the demonic cult have?"
Chang Ning said nothing.
Having confirmed her daughter was unharmed, Ning Xiaofeng slipped away to check on Cai Xiaopang.
Venerable Fakong spoke again. "Those injured in the hall are out of danger. Let Lady Luo speak her piece. Hatred between fellow disciples serves no one. And I would add — those of us who witnessed the Torrential Thunderstorm in its full power will recall it was far more devastating than what we saw today. It is too early to accuse Lady Luo of colluding with the cult."
Zhou Zhizhen gave a slight nod. He had thought the same.
Song Shijun and Yang Heying, satisfied that their own people were safe, settled in with undisguised interest. A dispute inside Taichu Temple was the kind of theater worth watching. Zhou Zhizhen and Cai Pingchun waited in calm silence.
Qi Yunke looked around the hall and nodded. "Lady Luo. Speak."
Luo Yuanrong passed the bamboo basket carefully into the hands of Wu Gang and Wu Xiong. She walked to the center of the hall and bowed deeply to Venerable Fakong.
Qiu Yuanfeng bit down hard. Then, before she could begin, he stepped forward.
"I'll speak first. Before she can twist the story."
He didn't wait for permission.
"Everyone here knows that my eldest brother Wu Yuanying died at Dinglu Mountain twenty years ago. Dozens witnessed it. But my junior sister has never accepted it. For over a decade, she has hounded us — either demanding we mount a rescue into the demonic cult's territory, or accusing me directly of having a hand in Eldest Brother's death. It's madness. Pure madness."
Cangqiong Zi struck the arm of his wheelchair. "Exactly. In battles with the demonic cult, people die. That is the cost. If every grieving disciple behaved this way — pursuing endlessly, accusing without proof — the entire martial world would fall into chaos. And Yuanfeng and Yuanjing weren't even at Dinglu Mountain. What makes her so certain Yuanying didn't die? It is delusion. Nothing more."
Murmurs broke through the hall. Many present had never heard any of this.
"Wu Yuanying — not dead? That can't be."
"Impossible. My senior brother was there. He watched Elder Yaoguang cut him down with his own eyes. Everyone retreated too fast to recover the body, that's all."
"Then why has Lady Luo spent twenty years on this?"
"She was in love with him. Everyone knew it. She just can't let go."
"Wu Yuanying may rest easy in the underworld — a beauty who's mourned him this long. But the living are suffering for it."
Fan Xingjia glanced sideways at Cai Zhao.
Cai Zhao shook her head slightly. "Don't ask me. I only know Taichu Temple led the Dinglu Mountain campaign and called in allies from across the martial world. Our family wasn't invited."
Chang Ning said, without looking over, "Of course not. You'd just snapped their sword."
Cai Zhao gave him a sideways look.
Luo Yuanrong had listened to all of it without flinching. The beauty that had once earned her that title — Frost Fairy — had been worn down over the years into something harder, quieter, and far more difficult to read. She opened her mouth slowly.
"Third Senior Brother need not hurry. Please, everyone — let me tell it from the beginning."
"When we learned what was happening at Dinglu Mountain — that the demonic cult was using living people to refine pills, devastating the surrounding villages — Eldest Brother resolved to act. He sent word to allies across the martial world. What none of us anticipated was that the force holding Dinglu Mountain was not some minor cult leader. It was Elder Yaoguang. One of the Seven Star Elders."
"Yaoguang's followers were vast in number. Once close combat began, Eldest Brother read the ground clearly and called the retreat. But Third Brother Qiu Yuanfeng —" she paused, "— saw an opening. The Twin Heroes of Lingnan and Zen Master Juefang were sacrificing themselves to hold Yaoguang back, buying time for everyone to withdraw. Third Brother chose that moment to attempt a solo ambush." She looked at him steadily. "Am I wrong?"
Qiu Yuanfeng's face darkened but he said nothing.
The hall could read him without words. The ambush had failed.
"His strike only enraged Yaoguang. The demon absorbed the blow, then unleashed his Venomous Snake Heart-Piercing Claw — drove it through Zen Master Juefang's skull. Struck each of the Twin Heroes of Lingnan with a full-force palm. Then turned his attention to Third Brother."
Luo Yuanrong smiled, and there was no warmth in it. "Third Brother is a formidable sect leader now. But at the time, his martial arts were — how shall I put this — rather ordinary. Isn't that so?"
Song Shijun called out helpfully, "That's true. I can confirm it. Back then, Sect Leader Qiu was only slightly stronger than Junior Sister Luo here."
The Taichu Temple disciples glared at him. The Guangtian Gate disciples received the exact same glare in return.
"Against Elder Yaoguang, ten of what Third Brother was then would not have been enough." Luo Yuanrong's voice broke for a moment. "Eldest Brother. Without a single moment's hesitation, he turned back. He went back in. He fought that demon with everything he had to buy Third Brother enough time to run." She pressed on, tears falling now. "And Third Brother ran."
The hall erupted.
Even the younger disciples — those who had grown up only hearing Wu Yuanying's name as a legend — were stunned. Eyes turned toward Qiu Yuanfeng, and they were not kind eyes.
Qiu Yuanfeng held himself rigid. "Yes. Senior Brother saved me. I won't deny it." His jaw tightened. "But I didn't run out of cowardice. He ordered me to go."
The Taoist Yun Zhuan's voice cut through with precision. "How interesting. When Wu Yuanying ordered the full retreat, you didn't listen. But the moment you'd provoked a demon and put three heroes in danger, you suddenly found it in yourself to obey? You take the glory and leave others to pay the bill. No wonder people say Master Qiu shows his true nature — indeed, what a nature it is."
Song Shijun barely kept himself from laughing out loud. "Taoist Yun speaks plainly and well! Master Qiu, the chaos was yours to cause. Running while your senior brother stays to fix it — is that not sending him to his death with your own two hands?"
Cangqiong Zi's voice rose in fury. "Slaying demons is the duty of every righteous hero. Even if Yuanfeng was impulsive, that is not a crime. Yuanying gave his life for his junior brother — that speaks to their bond. Neither of them did wrong."
Yun Zhuan responded mildly. "Very well. If you say there's no fault, there's no fault."
Cai Zhao whispered, "When I leave this mountain, I'm finding Taoist Yun and buying him a drink."
"Save it," said Chang Ning, glancing at her flushed face.
Qi Yunke stepped in quickly. "Sister Luo. What happened that day was a tragedy. But it cannot be undone. Brother Yuanying made his choice willingly — that much I believe."
Wang Yuanjing wept quietly. "It's my fault. I should have gone with them."
A young disciple beside him said at once, "Second Senior Brother was still recovering from injuries. How could you have gone?"
"Senior Brother is not dead." Luo Yuanrong wiped her face and lifted her chin. "I know it. I have tracked down every survivor from Dinglu Mountain. Not one of them watched him die with their own eyes."
The hall went still.
Qiu Yuanfeng laughed — a short, sharp, desperate sound. "The last thing I saw before I cleared the mountain was Yaoguang's claw closing around Senior Brother's chest. Ask anyone here who knows that technique: has anyone in living memory survived it? Even Zen Master Juefang — Venerable Fakong's own great disciple, stronger than almost any man present — died the moment that claw touched him. One strike. You think Senior Brother survived what Juefang could not?"
Nods moved through the crowd. The Venomous Snake Heart-Piercing Claw had been spoken of in whispers for years. Fatal without exception. That was its reputation. Its only limitation was the toll it took on Yaoguang himself — not something he could use again and again.
Zhou Zhizhen spoke gently. "Sister Luo. If Brother Wu truly took the full force of that technique, survival was impossible. You need to find a way to accept it."
"A direct hit would have been fatal. Yes." Luo Yuanrong's voice steadied. "But what if it wasn't direct? My family has an heirloom — the Mysterious Iron Heart Mirror." She gestured toward the great gong outside the hall. "Cast from deep-sea iron, the same ore as that gong. My father left it to me before he died."
Silence.
"The morning Eldest Brother left for Dinglu Mountain, I made him wear it beneath his robes. I told him I wouldn't let him go otherwise." Her voice broke at the edges but held. "He finally agreed."
She raised her head. "With the Heart Mirror between him and that claw — it may not have been fatal."
Qiu Yuanfeng looked as if the ground had shifted beneath him. He roared to drown out the feeling. "That's nothing but your word! No one has tested that mirror against the claw. And I never knew he was wearing it — I couldn't have left him if I'd known—"
"Even if he was dead!" Luo Yuanrong's voice finally broke its restraint. "Even a corpse — you should have brought him back! You were jealous of him your entire life. Always believing you were better. Always knowing that with him standing ahead of you, you would never be first. So you left him there. You thought with him gone, Taichu Temple would fall to you."
Qiu Yuanfeng shook with rage. "Slander! Lies! Every word of it!"
Zhou Zhizhen said carefully, "Sister Luo, that accusation is too severe. At the time, Second Senior Brother Wang Yuanjing outranked and outmatched Master Qiu in every way. By seniority and by skill, Wang would have been the natural successor after Brother Yuanying. Your logic doesn't hold."
Cangqiong Zi had heard enough. He slammed his wheelchair again, nearly shouting. "This is exactly the kind of reckless slander that destroyed her relationship with this sect. I was in the Northwest when it happened. My senior brother was already unwell. When word came of Yuanying's death, he coughed up blood on the spot. And still this disciple insisted we march into the demonic cult's stronghold for a rescue! He was dead — what was there to rescue?"
"Then why," Luo Yuanrong said, "did Elder Yaoguang send Master a letter?"
The hall went cold.
Even Venerable Fakong moved closer. Master Jingyuan stepped forward, voice hard. "Master Canghuanzi despised the demonic cult to the bone. He would never have dealings with them. Lady Luo, be very careful what you say."
At that time, communication with the enemy was not merely suspicion — it was grounds to be declared an enemy of every righteous sect in the world.
Luo Yuanrong's voice was unsteady but clear. "The day after the battle at Dinglu Mountain, Master received a letter delivered by Elder Yaoguang himself. It said Senior Brother was alive. That the demon would exchange him for Elder Kaiyang." She paused. "Master didn't dare believe it. But he didn't dare not. So he took the letter to Nine Li Mountain to consult Old Patriarch Yin."
Cai Zhao muttered, "How many powerful figures does the demonic cult even have?"
Chang Ning glanced over. "Don't worry. Of those seven, only two remain."
All eyes turned to Qi Yunke.
He sighed. "Before the Dinglu Mountain battle, Elder Kaiyang had already been captured by my master and his companions. He was held in the dungeon of Wanshui Qianshan Cliff. Yaoguang and Kaiyang were close — so..."
Yang Heying said sharply, "Are you saying Master Canghuanzi went to Old Patriarch Yin to negotiate a trade? A demon prisoner for his disciple? Surely the Patriarch refused?"
"Of course he refused." Song Shijun's voice was flat and hard. "My father-in-law, his senior brother Cheng Hao, and junior brother Wang Dingchuan — the Three Elders of Qingfeng. Brothers in everything but blood. Two of them died capturing Kaiyang. My father-in-law was bedridden for months from grief." He looked toward the front of the hall. "Master Fakong was there. He knows."
Venerable Fakong chanted softly. "It is as he says."
The hall understood without further explanation. Kaiyang had been bought with two Grand Masters' lives. No one would hand him back for a disciple who might already be dead.
Qi Yunke continued, measuring each word. "My master and Elder Canghuanzi had friendship spanning decades. He shouldn't have refused outright — but remembering how Cheng and Wang had died, he couldn't bring himself to agree either. In the end, the two of them resolved to go together. If Brother Wu was truly alive, they would find a way — capture Yaoguang, free Brother Wu. But—"
"There's nothing more to say." Cangqiong Zi's voice was hollow now. "It was a trap. Every part of it, from the beginning. My senior brother returned from that meeting half-dead. He didn't last long after. The one consolation is that he and Old Patriarch Yin managed to kill Yaoguang — a genuine evil, removed from the world."
Qiu Yuanfeng added, quieter now, "Master's last words were clear: Senior Brother was dead. Believe nothing from the demonic cult. Ever." He looked at Luo Yuanrong. "You were at his bedside. You heard him."
Cai Zhao frowned quietly. "So Yaoguang lied about the whole thing. He baited Elder Canghuanzi just to get at him. And Kaiyang?"
Fan Xingjia, who rarely got to contribute, stepped in quickly. "Thunder Senior Uncle told me — when Kaiyang heard Yaoguang had died, he tried to break out that same night. He was killed at the cliff's edge."
Cai Zhao blinked. "I didn't think the demonic cult ran that deep on loyalty."
Chang Ning said, without expression, "Loyalty, perhaps. Brotherhood — that's another question."
Cai Zhao didn't pursue it. Her attention had returned to Luo Yuanrong.
"I heard Master's final words." Luo Yuanrong spoke without heat. "In that moment, I blamed him. Later, I understood. He had no choice. Elder Kaiyang had been paid for with the lives of two Qingxue Sect masters. No one would trade that away. And Master was already dying — who would be left to speak for me? The dead are forgotten quickly."
Her voice dropped. "The day after Master passed, my uncle took over the sect. Then Third Senior Brother. Those who had known and honored Senior Brother were, one by one, edged out of Taichu Temple."
"Now no one remembers him."
Grief settled over the hall like a second silence.
Then Luo Yuanrong raised her head, and there was something terrible and clear in her eyes.
"But I remember him. I will never stop."
"Enough!" Qiu Yuanfeng's composure finally cracked completely. "He is dead! He has been dead for twenty years! If you have proof — real proof — then show it! Don't bring up that mirror again — no one knows if it works!"
"Real proof." Luo Yuanrong's smile was the saddest thing in the room. "Of course. Did you think I would come to Wanshui Qianshan Cliff today without it?"
The hall held its breath.
She turned. "Wu Gang. Wu Xiong. Carefully."
The two men lifted the golden bamboo basket with both hands. Inside, wrapped in thick cloth, was the shape of a person. Every eye in the hall was fixed on it as they began to unwrap — head first, then shoulders, chest, abdomen—
Then nothing more.
Nothing more.
Cai Zhao, standing at a distance, craned forward to see. Then from somewhere deep in the hall, Yin Sulian screamed — a sound like something breaking — and collapsed.
The wrappings fell away and everyone saw.
Eyes gouged out. Tongue removed. Nose crushed flat, two shallow holes left in its place. Both arms gone. Both legs gone. Only a torso, dressed in old wounds — whip marks, cuts, burns, charred skin, flesh carved in patterns that served no purpose except suffering. Tendon by tendon. Layer by layer.
It could barely be called a body.
The hall went silent in a way it had not been silent all day. Not the silence of anticipation. The silence of people trying to understand something their minds refused to accept.
"This... this is..." Yang Heying's voice came out barely his own.
Taoist Yun Zhuan crossed the hall in three steps and dropped to his knees beside it, gathering what remained into his arms. He wept openly, without shame.
"Brother Yuanying. Brother Yuanying, what did they do to you. How — how did it come to this—"
His cry broke something loose in the room. Many of those present had met Wu Yuanying. They had laughed with him, trained alongside him, raised cups with him. Twenty years had passed, and what lay before them was almost unrecognizable. And yet — they recognized him.
"The demonic cult are beasts! Worse than beasts!" Song Shijun's voice tore through the hall.
Even Zhou Zhizhen, who rarely showed anger, had gone white at the jaw.
Cai Zhao had heard crowds all day — cheering, mocking, threatening, arguing. Nothing had sounded like this. The sound filling the hall now was grief and fury and horror all at once, each voice feeding the next until the noise was almost physical.
A man celebrated across the martial world. A man who had turned back to save the one who ran. What had been done to him after was not punishment. It was not even cruelty for a reason.
It was just what the demonic cult did to what it caught.
Cai Zhao stood very still, and felt cold in a way that had nothing to do with the air.