Chapter 104: I Am You, And You Are Me
Heaven and earth turned white, wind and snow drifted.
Ming Zhaoshuang looked up, only to see ice mountains and snowy ground before her eyes. The bleak cold wind blew among them, stirring up flakes of wind and snow, like the most ostentatious catkins in spring, intoxicating the eyes of travelers.
Hidden by the catkins was an exceptionally cold palace.
The palace was bound by layers of ice-sealed iron chains, reflecting the surrounding ice peaks, like a strange formation, or an unbreakable cage.
However, this cage willingly opened its doors to her.
Ming Zhaoshuang slowly walked into the palace. As far as the eye could see, it was empty and desolate, as if there was nothing worth remembering.
Only one person stood alone in the palace.
Ming Zhaoshuang looked at the person at the end of the palace, her eyes widened in surprise, but then immediately relieved.
That person’s face was as beautiful as frost and snow. At this moment, she held a long sword, her gaze icy cold, standing in the endless snowy mountain prison, looking towards her.
She and Ming Zhaoshuang looked exactly alike.
However, Ming Zhaoshuang had a small, lively mole on her left eye, while her face was clean and bare, with nothing.
It was the original owner, it was Ming Zhaoshuang, it was Ming Zhaoshuang ten years later.
The two faced each other from afar between the palace and the wind and snow, like reflections, or like the self.
Ming Zhaoshuang looked at her, her throat dry: “You are Ming Zhaoshuang.”
Ming Zhaoshuang slowly walked towards her and slowly said, “Yes, I am Ming Zhaoshuang, I am you, and you are me.”
What did “I am you, and you are me” mean?
Ming Zhaoshuang began to breathe rapidly. She looked at the young girl before her, at her face, indistinguishable from her own, and her emotions became as scattered as flying catkins.
She had actually said such a thing without realizing it.
“The book says that after you failed the three-year agreement with Qin Feilong, you returned as the Saintess of Rim of Dusk Cangshan, but were ultimately not favored by Qin Feilong, and finally returned to the icy heaven and snowy land, living a lonely life.”
Ming Zhaoshuang’s brows seemed dyed with frost and snow, like an ice mountain that would never melt: “Do you think I would be that kind of person?”
She continued, “Perhaps you think, would you be that kind of person?”
Ming Zhaoshuang frowned: “I may not know about others, but I definitely will not be.”
She could not possibly favor Qin Feilong, let alone lose her true nature for him, or even choose to live with ice and snow.
Ming Zhaoshuang chuckled at this, as if questioning her: “You and I are one, so where would others come from? I was born missing one soul and one spirit, unable to fall in love with others, let alone be distraught over a man and seal myself in this desolate palace.”
“In the book, three parts truth, seven parts falsehood, unreliable, cannot be trusted.”
As Ming Zhaoshuang spoke, she flicked her long sleeve, and suddenly more than a dozen paintings appeared before Ming Zhaoshuang. They hung before Ming Zhaoshuang, still, yet lively.
The young girl who had chuckled in her ear had long since disappeared.
Or rather, she was sealed within the first painting scroll.
In the vast ice and snow palace, she raised her head. Her fair face looked towards her through the misty flying snow, her eyes bright as snow, filled with loneliness and longing.
She seemed to be trapped within the painting scroll.
She also seemed to be trapped here, forever trapped here.
Golden light flickered before Ming Zhaoshuang, and cold text slowly appeared on the painting scroll:
“When the Heavenly Dao wanes, why does the soul not return?”
Before Ming Zhaoshuang could react, she was pulled into the second illusion.
Before her eyes, dark clouds gathered, thunder roared, emitting dazzling, blinding white light, as if to shatter the entire world, to invert the entire Yin Yang.
Standing amidst this power that overturned mountains and seas was a woman in red.
Upon seeing the woman’s features clearly, Ming Zhaoshuang was suddenly startled and suddenly understood.
In the Dragon King’s Secret Realm, Ming Zhaoshuang had seen her, seen that beautiful and charming divine statue.
The woman now before her had a face as radiant as the divine statue, her red clothes fluttering. She wore a pair of snow-white moon earrings at her earlobes, her posture wild and unrestrained, utterly free.
However, at this moment, her expression was so indifferent and stern, like the most ruthless cold wind in the world, exuding an unyielding persistence and resolve unto death.
Before her were endless black shadows, and at her fingertips, a sword like blood.
She wielded her sword, engaging in a magical battle with the black shadows, but was knocked down by them time and again.
Thunder roared, striking her ruthlessly. The surrounding mountains and rivers all cracked, yet she stood up again and again in the collapsing world, her spine straight, unyielding, her bright eyes firm, like stars.
She looked at the black shadow, her gaze icy cold. Even if she were to be utterly destroyed, she would not change her arrogance or her sharpness.
“When Feng He rises, follow destiny. If heaven does not comply, I will defy heaven.”
Suddenly, a sentence resounded in Ming Zhaoshuang’s mind without her realizing it.
At this moment, the scene froze. Ming Zhaoshuang detached herself from it, only to see the second painting scroll showing the last scene she had just witnessed—heaven and earth darkened, mountains and rivers collapsed, Feng He lying amidst ruins, lifeless.
Finally, golden light flickered, and text appeared upon it.
“Feng He rises, following destiny. If heaven destroys me, what can be done?”
Ming Zhaoshuang sighed and looked up again, her gaze turning to the third painting scroll.
Compared to the previous two painting scrolls, this one seemed rather monotonous, but it did not shock Ming Zhaoshuang any less than the previous two.
For no other reason than that the man before her was simply too, too! too! too! beautiful!
Before her, moonlight poured down, illuminating the entire world as if it were a clear night in the heavens.
The man wore thin white clothes adorned with ancient gold patterns, stained with bright red blood.
A strong wind suddenly rose, rustling his tattered robes. His posture was tall and slender, standing between heaven and earth like a noble orchid or jade tree, fearless and unconcerned.
Looking again at his finely drawn brows and faint lips, his face was as if carved by a knife, etched by a sword, with sharp angles like mountain peaks.
Most striking were his pair of light golden eyes. When he slightly raised his gaze, it felt as if the bright moon rose over the vast sea, as if bright clouds reflected the morning glow, it was utterly breathtaking.
He stood holding his sword, his ten fingers with distinct bones. His three thousand strands of hair were like white snow, rising with the passing wind, brushing past his face, which was bright but not gaudy, warm but not hot, and even carrying traces of blood, adding another layer of exquisite beauty to his countenance, surpassing his former appearance.
At first, the man was in profile, his gaze fixed on a black shadow. His golden eyes were fierce, and dark blood slowly dripped down his three-foot green sword.
But as Ming Zhaoshuang looked over, he seemed to sense something. His white hair slid down from his shoulder, revealing his extremely serene face.
He turned his head and smiled charmingly at Ming Zhaoshuang.
In an instant—
Mountains and rivers lost their color, heaven and earth turned to snow.
