The winter night, the whole earth was covered in a layer of white light.
This was the heavy snow from a few days ago.
Against the backdrop of the vast white land, the stars in the night sky appeared even brighter and clearer.
It seemed as if a stretch of the hand could pluck one.
A hand was raised high, grasping at the void.
The hand drew back in front, opened, revealing no sparkling stars, but only puffs of white breath floating.
This was the warm breath exhaled from the mouth and nose, turning into white mist in the cold, rising for a moment before freezing on brows and beard, shimmering faintly under Starlight Mountain.
"The starry sky is truly beautiful."
A raspy voice said, the outstretched hand resting behind the head, the snow beneath creaking.
Under the starlight, this person wore a white fur coat, lying in the snow, merging with the earth. If not for his eyes shining as brightly as stars, he would be hard to notice.
"Indeed,"
A voice sounded beside him, the snow undulating, presenting scattered figures.
"It's rare to see such a sky full of stars."
"Turns out the stars are this beautiful."
"At such a moment a poem should be recited."
"Perish the thought!"
"It'd be perfect if there was wine."
"And a piece of roasted meat."
The sound of laughter and jokes rang out, making this frozen cold night lively, much like appreciating snow in spring; enjoying the starry night in winter is nothing short of a refined pleasure.
Suddenly, the hand raised again, accompanied by this motion, the talking ceased abruptly, and the world fell dead silent.
A sudden sound of hooves broke the silence, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, quickly approaching.
Hooves lifted the snow, revealing wrapped animal hides beneath.
These hides silenced the sound of hooves, only detectable when close by.
This was a group of about a dozen soldiers; under the starlight, their armor and helmets glinted coldly, backed by swords, spears, lances, and bows that shone with cold light. Despite the snow, the horses' speed did not diminish in the slightest; suddenly, the horse in the middle neighed as a long knife severed its front limb straight from the ground.
The horse neighed and collapsed, throwing off its rider. Before he could stand, a long knife had already slashed him into two pieces.
Blood gushed out, instantly staining the snow.
The entire group became chaotic as figures leaped up from the snow, wielding long knives and short axes at these cavalrymen.
Calls of unfamiliar tongues, cries of pain, horse neighs, the once quiet world became noisy, a noise filled with blood and violence.
A long spear pierced through a cavalryman, pulling him off the horse entirely. The spear swung away with the cavalryman, and the assailant instantly picked up a broadsword that had fallen by, clashing it with a scythe attacking from behind with a clang.
But ultimately, due to a slight slip of the foot, a flying axe thrown by another cavalryman hit his neck. He shouted and fell to the ground motionless, blood staining the earth and his white robe, merging once again with the ground.
The battle was brutal and swift, everything seemed to happen in an instant, and in the midst of the carnage, it quickly ended. Horses were either slain or scattered, followed by a long knife heartlessly piercing into the chest of an injured man, ending his wails instantly and bringing the world back to silence.
The starlight remained unchanged, but the ground was no longer pure white; it was covered with blood-stained corpses.
There were the bodies of the imperial soldiers and men clad in white robes.
A bearded man squatted in front of a man in a white robe, his hand gently closing the still-open eyes.
"Boss."
A voice reminded him from behind.
The bearded man turned his head.
"Am I becoming more and more sentimental now?" he asked.
The men behind him ignored him, either stripping weapons and clothes from the imperial soldiers' corpses or gulping blood from the dead horses.
"Boss, hurry up, drink a few mouthfuls and let's go," someone mumbled.
The bearded man shook his head.
"Life's meaning isn't just about eating and drinking," he said, waving a knife in his hand, slicing off a piece of horse meat, blood dripping, and stuffed it into his robe, "there's poetry and the faraway too."
He paused in thought.
"She should have said so; it's been so long I've almost forgotten."
The other men stood up, casually wiping away the blood from their mouths.
"Boss, whether you're sentimental isn't the point; the fact is, you do talk more now," one man said.
"Are you saying I'm talkative?" the bearded man retorted displeased, "How can I be talkative? We're heading further north, can't even spot a single hair of a human, and when we do, it's all in a foreign tongue. I'm afraid if it goes on I'll forget how to speak our language entirely."
The men burst into laughter.
"Boss, you're truly farsighted," they said.
The bearded man's eyes filled with amusement, his face full of pride.
"Indeed," he said, gesturing with his hand, "we've feasted well, and watched these glorious logs, let's move out."
The group did not linger, under the starlight they ran swiftly northward into the snow, their figures gradually merging and disappearing into the earth.
When daylight illuminated the earth again, this place became lively once more due to the arrival of more soldiers.
Their helmets were dark, with bright red fringes, akin to mercury armors, each face filled with arrogance and hostility, the very elite cavalrymen of the Imperial City.
Seeing the scattered corpses frozen in the snow, they roared with rage.
"It's those woodcutters again."
"How do they strike so often?!"
"Are our warriors truly so worthless?"
"Sir, there aren't many left, with the mountain sealed by snow, they lack even torches, they're bound to die."
"Such a death is too lenient for them, they must perish by our hands, skinned and de-boned, to avenge the Great Emperor."
"Warriors, kill a woodcutter, be honored and titled."
With this cry, the imperial soldiers roared forward, snow crazily swirling.
.....
......
It seemed as though everything in this world was covered by snow, including stones and trees, the entire world like in deep freeze.
Yet amidst this frost, a snow-white lotus bloomed, as if this was a lake.
But it was actually a steep cliff.
A hand reached over, plucking this snow lotus.
Against the backdrop of the snow lotus, the hand appeared more swollen, covered in frostbites, a sight difficult to bear.
The act of picking the snow lotus with a frostbitten hand was arduous, let alone climbing a snow-covered rock by hand.
The man clung to the smooth cliff, his body tense, his expression relaxed, slowly bringing the snow lotus to his nose, smelling it, bringing a few traces of ease upon his wan appearance.
"Truly fragrant," he remarked.
After saying this, he suddenly plummeted as if unable to hold on any longer, but in reality, he adroitly maneuvered down the cliff, eventually landing safely at the base.
"Look at this," he called to the five men scattered around, holding up the snow lotus, "isn't it beautiful?"
The five men looked over; although each appeared haggard and their lips cracked, they all broke into smiles.
"Boss, why have you become interested in flowers and plants again? You're not really turning into a little girl, are you?" they teased.
"You understand nothing, this is medicinal," the bearded man said, carefully tucking the snow lotus into his leather pouch, "someone I know needs this, back home, I can settle my debt with it."
His mumbling about debts wasn't much minded by others, but at the word 'home', a trace of longing flashed in their eyes.
Home, could they really return?
Even though they had come prepared to die, the desire to go home lingered.
Their gaze fell on the bearded man, watching as he carefully and joyfully reviewed the pouch where he stored the snow lotus. There was no real need to pick flowers from a cliff, it only wasted energy.
Yet, there was comfort in always thinking of someone, as if that person were right next to them.
Their smiles turned wistful.
Can we still return?
Their smiles turned wistful.
Can we still go back?
They were still by his side every moment.
"The Jin thiefs," they exclaimed.
"They are coming again!"
The men jumped to their feet.
They had no swords or axes, only sharpened sticks broken off from trees in their hands.
"""
But their expressions showed no trace of fear, as if the weapons in their hands were of high quality.
"Then let's pull a few down with us," the bearded man said with a casual tone, stretching his limbs with a creaking sound, "Let's get to work."
Following his words, the five of them each hid behind the rocks on the mountainside.
The bearded man stood alone, a hint of melancholy flashing across his face as he looked down at the leather pouch on his waist.
"What a pity, you unlucky woman, such fine things you won't get," he murmured, then looked up with a carefree expression, swung the long stick in his hand, and waited for the cavalry to charge through the mountain pass.
The sounds outside grew louder, but no army charged in, leaving those waiting to ambush somewhat baffled.
"Could it be they're not planning to fight and just waiting for us to be starved out?" one man said.
"Are they cowards like this?" another man frowned and said.
The bearded man perked up his ears, his expression suddenly changing.
"No, it seems, there's Zhou Yu," he said.
But having Zhou Yu was not unexpected, as these woodcutters had previously used Zhou Yu to lure them.
"No, this time, it's real and there are many people," the bearded man said, his voice trembling slightly.
This tremble wasn't from fear, but from some speculation.
Some impossible speculation.
The others' expressions turned complex, as if they wanted to be excited but feared this excitement would destroy their sanity.
They never allowed themselves hope, because once hope appeared, when it was shattered, they lost their will entirely, beyond saving.
They remained vigilant behind the rocks until suddenly, a rumbling sound filled their ears, followed by the earth and mountains shaking.
"My goodness, isn't this the Qingshan Army's..." the bearded man shouted.
But just as he was about to leap up, he heard rumbling above, followed by a heavy snowfall mixed with rocks tumbling down.
The others hiding behind the rocks didn't have time to react, and the falling snow instantly buried them.
With a crashing sound, the valley fell silent.
Outside the valley, the noise of battle grew louder, and after what seemed like an eternity, everything quieted down again, followed by the sound of hooves approaching, gradually filling the valley.
"Nobody here." A man's voice said, with a hint of surprise. "Could they have already succumbed and died?"
But the next moment, a hand suddenly thrust out from beneath the snow, followed by a head shaking off snow and emerging.
"Oh my!"
The hoarse and angry voice drowned out the sound of hoofbeats, echoing throughout the valley.
"We didn't die at the hands of the Jurchen people, but were crushed to death by snow. What a joke!"
And with his movement, others in the area struggled out, spitting snow and shaking their heads, their expressions full of incredulous joy.
But the bearded man still looked angrily at the approaching army.
"Whose men are you? How can you be so stupid?" he shouted.
He raised his head, shook off the snow on his face, and saw the cavalry near him, then his voice stopped abruptly.
The cavalry dispersed, revealing a woman in his sight.
She wasn't wearing armor, but was wrapped in a thick red cloak, her fluffy white hat almost covering her small face.
She was also seriously looking at the bearded man who was still half-buried in the snow, scanning his head and face inch by inch, then slightly furrowing her brow.
"Zhu Zan," she said, "How did you become so ugly?"
Zhu Zan was furious, jumping out of the snow.
"You have something wrong with your eyes," he shouted, "Who in this world is better looking than me?"
He jumped out, brushing the snow off his body, and wiped his face haphazardly.
"Come, come, take a good look, I'm like a jade tree in the wind..."
Before he could finish, Miss Jun had already jumped off her horse and dashed over, leaping arms wide to hug his neck.
Her movement was so sudden that Zhu Zan staggered, almost falling.
"Hey, don't think just because you did that, what you said before doesn't count," he shouted, "Get up and look carefully, where am I ugly?"
Though he said that, he didn't push away the person in front of him but reached out to embrace her.
"Look carefully," he repeated.
Miss Jun hugged his neck tightly, nodding heavily on his shoulder.
"I'll look carefully," she said.
Zhu Zan said no more, only held her tightly, whether because his body was frozen stiff or unfamiliar, his actions were somewhat rigid.
Back then, he should have practiced hugging a few more times, he thought.
........
......
When spring was in full bloom, the valley became even more beautiful, but at that moment the atmosphere was somewhat tense.
A group of men looked solemnly and worriedly at the girl in front of them.
The girl was being led by a woman to a tomb.
The girl seemed frightened, standing there motionless.
"Hanqing." Aunt Xiao gently patted her shoulder, speaking softly, "About your father, I asked Sister Jiuling to keep it from you, you...."
Zhao Hanqing raised her hand to hold Aunt Xiao's hand.
"Mother, I want to be alone here for a while."
Aunt Xiao hesitated briefly but nodded in agreement.
She turned around and gestured for everyone to leave.
"Sister-in-law, is this okay?" Xia Yong asked worriedly in a low voice, "Niuniu was so excited to see big brother, but now..."
Aunt Xiao sighed lightly.
"I believe she can understand," she said.
Suddenly, Sister-in-law Xia exclaimed.
"Oh dear, Niuniu picked up the knife," she said.
This startled everyone, who paused to look over, and sure enough, Zhao Hanqing raised a long sword in front of the tomb.
Before everyone could react, they saw her swinging the sword, creating a dazzling display.
Everyone was stunned for a moment—this... seemed not to be self-harm, but....
Zhao Hanqing quickly sheathed the sword, then picked up a bow, silently shooting ten arrows onto a nearby tree trunk.
She didn't stop there, as everyone watched dumbfounded, she displayed a long spear and a scythe in succession.
"Turns out she wants to show her dad how strong she is," Aunt Xiao's eyes glistened with tears.
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, and Zhao Hanqing before the tomb exhaled too, tossed the shield and spear aside, squatted in front of the tomb, looking at the tombstone with Zhao Zhiyi's name.
"Hey, Dad, did you see? I didn't disgrace you, did I?" she said, raising her eyebrows with some enthusiasm, nowhere near sadness, "Am I strong enough? Have I surpassed you?"
The tombstone couldn't answer her; she gazed quietly for a moment, then took out three paper-wrapped incense-like items from her pocket.
"These are what Sister Jiuling asked me to bring you," she said, looking at the items, lighting them with a torch.
Smoke rose, spreading a peculiar fragrance.
Zhao Hanqing examined the three short sticks in her hand with a strange look, clearly curious.
"Sister Jiuling said these were mentioned in your handwritten notes as some kind of smoke," she said, "She said you didn't write about it in detail, she tried to make it, unsure if it's right."
The more she smelled, the more curious she became, decided to bring it to her mouth and sucked hard, instantly coughing with tears streaming down her face.
"It's really scary," she said, "No wonder you said taking another puff would kill you."
She said this as she inserted the three short sticks in front of the tomb, gazing quietly for a while.
"Dad, you were great, but Sister Jiuling is greater," she suddenly said.
Saying this seemed like fearing a beating from the person in front of her as she jumped up and retreated.
Her eyes carried a hint of mischievousness as she slowly backed away, finally turning around and running towards Aunt Xiao with a smile.
Behind her, the three short sticks in front of the tomb emitted wispy smoke, dancing with the wind.
(End of text)