“I’m sorry…” Han Yue murmured, and Fan Li felt she had reason to be.
He was the one who had been rendered passive, completely at her mercy. He should have been furious. Yet, facing Han Yue, he felt not anger, but a profound tenderness.
She wept, this woman who possessed the formidable power of a fourth-rank Great Vehicle cultivator, whose mastery of the Four Swords of Zhu Xian held limitless potential, who might one day even surpass Empress Yao Guang.
And yet, she wept, tears streaming down her face like a spring rain. Finally, she ended the clumsy kiss, burying her face in his chest, her sobs wracked with the sorrow of parting.
“Do not worry… the Heart-Snatching Mirror will release you in a moment. The Luming Academy is safe. I must leave, but… I cannot bear to part with you…”
Fan Li felt she was speaking nonsense. They had shared a kiss, a confession of love. Why must they separate? Was she concerned about Yao Guang? The Empress was powerful, but surely even she was powerless against the Great Jin kingdom.
He could arrange for Han Yue to seek refuge in Great Jin, even confront Yao Guang directly! With the looming threat of the Great Ming Dynasty, he doubted Yao Guang would risk antagonizing him.
Lost in thought, he suddenly felt his arms empty. A wave of unease washed over him. Han Yue had stepped back, tears still staining her cheeks, but a faint, melancholic smile played on her lips.
“Fan Li, the Pure Land has changed. It is no longer the haven it once was. But I still hold onto the ideal, the sanctuary it represents for all women who seek peace and serenity, a refuge from the world’s conflicts and desires. That is why I must return.
There is something I must do. It will be difficult, but with your Four Swords of Zhu Xian, I believe I can succeed.
After today, we shall part forever. Forgive my selfishness. I feared being forgotten. I used this… method… to ensure you would remember me.”
A blush colored her cheeks, and for a fleeting moment, a flicker of happiness touched her smile.
Fan Li’s eyes widened. He wanted to shout, to urge her to reconsider. She should remain in Great Chu. He would offer her his full support.
Why risk such a dangerous mission alone?
A surge of love welled within him, a complex and confusing emotion. As Han Yue had said, this love had been forced upon him, a product of deception. Yet, he didn’t resent it. He couldn’t discern whether he was being manipulated by her emotions or whether this was simply… inevitable.
“I must go,” Han Yue whispered, her gaze lingering on him, filled with the tenderness of a wife bidding farewell to her husband.
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Suddenly, as if remembering something, she took his hand, tracing a symbol upon his palm with her fingertip. His palm, sensitive and warm, instantly recognized the symbol.
Just days ago, he had claimed to have invented it, a symbol used to mark important people and events. Had she truly used it to mark him?
A final kiss, a gentle touch upon his lips, and then she was gone, her figure fading into the distance like a celestial being returning to the heavens.
Upon Mount Danxue, within the Great Ci Dynasty, Han Yue stood before eight graves, paying her respects to the deceased. She knelt before the grave of Chasing Moon, the sword cultivator, her posture respectful, even humble.
“Han Yue, you are a Sage Ruler. Why are you kneeling before these dead women? Elder Sister Yao Guang tasked you with uncovering Fan Li and the Great Jin kingdom’s secrets. You don’t seem to have accomplished your mission. You disgrace yourself, and by extension, all of us, your fellow Sage Rulers.” A sharp, disdainful voice entered her ears.
“Indeed. You besmirch our honor,” another voice added, its tone melodious yet equally contemptuous.
Han Yue rose, facing two familiar figures. Jin De, the Sage Ruler of Literature. And Miaoyin, the Sage Ruler of the Zither. She looked at them calmly, offering no rebuttal.
“Han Yue, Elder Sister Yao Guang and the Emperors of Wei, Han, and Wu are currently exploring Nüwa’s secret realm. She has entrusted Miaoyin and me with the governance of Great Ci. Your disrespectful behavior brings shame upon us all. How shall we punish you?” Jin De demanded.
Han Yue’s recent confinement, ordered by Empress Yao Guang, had been interpreted as a sign of her disfavor. Jin De and Miaoyin, privy to the details of Han Yue's growing affection for Fan Li, saw her as no different from Qing Qiu, the traitor. They were enemies now, not sisters. They simply awaited Yao Guang’s return to deliver the final judgment.
Han Yue, facing their accusations, remained impassive. “Tell me,” she asked, “what is the true purpose of the Pure Land?”
“To offer refuge to the world’s suffering women,” Jin De sneered. “Have you, the Sword Sage, forgotten the Pure Land’s most fundamental principle?”
Miaoyin, however, sensed something amiss. “What do you mean by that? Are you mocking us?”
Han Yue didn't answer directly. She gestured towards the eight simple graves. “They came to the Pure Land seeking refuge, believing in its ideals. And we killed them.”
“Silence!” Jin De and Miaoyin shouted in unison.
“How dare you! Do you truly believe that your recent comprehension of the Four Swords elevates you above us? You dare insult Elder Sister Yao Guang and question our honor?!”
The circumstances surrounding the deaths of Chasing Moon and the others were unknown to the ordinary citizens of Great Ci. But the Sage Rulers knew the truth. Jin De and Miaoyin’s anger only deepened Han Yue’s disappointment.
“Han Yue, kneel and apologize! Seal your cultivation and submit to our confinement! We shall await Elder Sister’s return to decide your fate! Otherwise, we will not hesitate to act!”
As Jin De finished speaking, countless golden books materialized around her, the embodiment of her Confucian spirit treasure, Nü De (Feminine Virtue). Spiritual energy surged, illuminating Mount Danxue with a brilliant golden light, the earth trembling beneath the power of a third-rank Great Vehicle cultivator.
Han Yue, facing this display of power, remained unmoved. Jin De’s spiritual pressure dissipated harmlessly a foot before her. Seeing her aura’s ineffectiveness, Jin De’s face flushed crimson.
A sharp, metallic sound, like the clash of swords and the thunder of hooves, echoed through the air, accompanied by a surge of spiritual energy, even more powerful than Jin De’s.
Miaoyin, a fifth-rank Great Vehicle cultivator, her power surpassing both Jin De and Han Yue, unleashed her aura.
“Han Yue,” Miaoyin declared.
“We were once sisters. I offer you a chance. Kneel, and seal your cultivation. Otherwise, you die!”
The final word, “die,” was spoken with a clear note of challenge, a provocation. Years of sisterhood, discarded without hesitation. Han Yue gazed at them, a long, silent appraisal. Then, she drew her sword, not one, but four.