It rained in the middle of the night, pattering on the plantain leaves outside the window. Xiao Dao in the outer room was awakened and quietly went to check on her young master, confirming that he was sleeping soundly.

When she left, she added a piece of warm incense to the ivory incense burner and tiptoed out.

In the early morning, she got up again to attend to his washing up, tied his hair properly, and brought out the clothes that had been scented with subtle fragrance the night before. From the assorted jade pendants, rings, and silk tassels, she picked out the ones that matched the clothes and carefully tied them on.

Chen Weichen seemed not yet fully awake, looking languid and allowing the slender, fair hands to busy themselves over his body.

After getting ready, he looked at himself in the mirror. Between his brows lingered an air of gentle charm. He was truly a dashing young master of the red dust, cultivated by golden jade halls and brocade beauties.

Chen Weichen finally woke up from his sleepiness and realized that this was the first time he had received such meticulous care since leaving home. He was a little overwhelmed by the favor.

Outside, the rain had not stopped, only lessened a bit. The cool, moist air was like smoke that clung to one's clothes, slanting in through the covered walkway.

Xiao Dao exclaimed, "Oh no, I forgot to prepare an umbrella for the Immortal's room."

Saying that, she took an umbrella and was about to order someone to deliver it.

Chen Weichen didn't tell her that cultivators had a protective energy shield and actually didn't need an umbrella. He just took one himself and walked into the apricot blossom rain, "I'll go meet him."

He remembered the time Ye Jiuya usually got up and had it down pat. As he arrived at the door, it had just been pushed open from the inside.

When Ye Jiuya opened the door, he was first greeted by the misty rain. Then a sky-blue umbrella appeared over his head, held by a smiling Chen Weichen, who said, "Brother Ye is up so early."

A hand brushed over his hair, sliding all the way down, fingertips intimately tracing his wrist and loosely grasping his hand.

Ye Jiuya recalled the scene from last night and knew that this was a tacit play of pretense.

So he let Chen Weichen pull him to the outer courtyard to enjoy the scenery. The distant mountains in the misty rain had a hint of purplish cyan. The pavilions and buildings were vaguely visible in the fog, only the dew-covered branches and plants in the courtyard could be seen clearly.

Chen Weichen put down the umbrella, narrowing his eyes in the light rain with a hint of contentment, "I liked rainy days when I was a kid. After a spell of rain, snails would crawl out, and Wen Hui and I would catch them to play. Once, we put them densely in a glazed pot and accidentally left it in my mother's bedroom. The careless maid didn't notice when sweeping, and those snails crawled out of the pot, leaving trails all over the walls. When the rain cleared and sunlight shone on them, the entire wall was faintly glistening with their trails—my mother was quite frightened and punished me and Ah Hui by making us copy books a dozen times."

He led Ye Jiuya to the rockery and pointed to a luminous white shell in a crevice, "Just like this."

Ye Jiuya naturally had no interest in the snail in the crevice and just looked at it indifferently.

Chen Weichen suddenly turned his head to look at him, "I still don't know what you were like as a child—why don't you tell me about it too."

After a moment, his voice lowered a bit, "He doesn't know either. You can just tell me."

They walked slowly on the flower-lined path. From behind, they really looked like close friends, intimate and inseparable.

Ye Jiuya gazed at the distant mountains in the mist and said, "It often snowed on the mountain."

Chen Weichen looked at him with interest, "What about you? What did you do?"

"Practiced swordsmanship."

After a pause, he added, "Read sword manuals."

"You sword pavilion folks are all so obsessed with swords," Chen Weichen said.

Southern courtyards were designed with changing scenery as one walked. Passing through a moon gate, another secluded world appeared.

On both sides were stone walls with cascading vines. Turning a corner, a small pavilion stood by a lotus pond, dotted with tender green new lotus leaves, the water surface rippling in the rain.

"From childhood to adulthood, you only had these two things, practicing swords and reading sword manuals?" In the pavilion, Chen Weichen sighed, "No wonder you're so boring."

Ye Jiuya seemed to think for a moment and said, "There was one thing."

Chen Weichen: "Oh?"

"When I was a teenager on the mountaintop, there was sudden thunder. Heaven and earth were filled with sword intent, and my mind was captivated by it. I could no longer unleash sword energy. My master tried many methods and even had me play the zither to clear my mind."

Chen Weichen became happy, "No wonder that day when you played the sword against Marquis Chenshu, it was so effortless. So you're also versed in music. Remember to play the zither for me someday."

Ye Jiuya gave a light "mm" in agreement.

—It was something he had promised, to fulfill any request.

Chen Weichen said, "Swords belong to metal. The root of sword intent is the killing aura between heaven and earth. I think that day you saw the true meaning of the Dao. Then later—"

He paused, the faint joy in his eyes fading, "Let's not talk about later."

Ye Jiuya saw his expression and understood the reason. He said, "Sorry."

But his thoughts couldn't help flying far away, to the snowy mountain peak in his youth.

"Beidou position, Yaoguang, Tianquan," his white-haired, youthful-looking master pointed out the sword positions, "Ascending through Sanyuan, Tianshi, Taiwei."

Stroking his snow-white long beard in approval, he sighed, "With innate immortal bones, you were born to cultivate the sword. That day when the true meaning of the Dao suddenly appeared and captivated your mind, who knows if it's a blessing or a curse. Forget it, forget it. The war on the other side of the Heavenly River is intense right now. I have to leave the mountain for a while. You practice the sword well. Perhaps one day when the opportunity comes, your mind will return and your cultivation will advance by leaps and bounds."

In the vast snow, he was alone again. Who knows how long had passed when he suddenly heard a voice, cool as a windless snowy desert.

"Ziwei, Tianshu, Yaoguang, Tianlang, Beimen."

He habitually followed with his sword.

The highest level of swordsmanship incorporated the positions of the heavenly officials, internally fusing the myriad sword techniques of the world.

He heard again, "Kaiyang, Taiwei, Yuheng, Beiji, Zhengyao."

As the sword rose and fell, there was an extremely low laugh by his ear. Somehow, the bamboo sword slipped from his hand.

That voice said, "Borrowing your sword for a moment."

He turned his head and saw a man in black beside him, his features extremely handsome and also extremely cold.

With a flash of flowing light, he casually unleashed a sword strike.

The sword energy was cold, yet dazzling, like a long rainbow. Wherever it passed, all fell silent; even the drifting snowflakes hung suspended in the air.

It was a sword energy of indiscernible color, emanating from the mountain peak, tearing through the sky as it flew.

His gaze followed the sword's energy as it reached the distant, gray horizon, tearing open a long, dark rift.

Thunder rumbled faintly in the distance.

That sword strike could rival the true intent of the Heavenly Dao from three years ago.

"You see, the Heavenly Dao," the man said, looking at the sky, "is nothing more than this."

His mind reeled as if heavily struck, his insides churned, and he coughed up a mouthful of black blood.

After the chaos, there was clarity, and his spirit slowly returned.

The man returned the sword to him, and the howling of the cold wind suddenly grew louder.

He closed his eyes to calm his spirit. When he opened them again after a moment, the man had vanished without a trace, leaving no footprints in the snow, as if he were a traceless dream.

He grasped the cold hilt of the bamboo sword and, imitating the man's earlier stance, thrust the sword forward.

Lightning flashed and thunder crashed.

The rumbling sound of spring thunder echoed in Ye Jiuya's ears as he looked at the gloomy, rainy sky, which looked just like the sky above Liuxue Mountain that day.

Chen Weichen lowered his eyelashes and muttered, "Don't think about him."

At that moment, Ye Jiuya suddenly and completely distinguished between his past and present lives.

The old memories ebbed and flowed. Years had passed, and the person he now faced was no longer the one he once knew.