Chapter 46

The last thing he saw was the Jiaoren's serene and elegant eyes, their deep colour holding a myriad of stars, slightly tinged with a blueish green hue—a beauty both ethereal and wicked.

The fierce wind and snow made it seem like the wheelchair should be slowed down, yet it moved more smoothly than usual. The snow yao's abilities made the snowstorm unusual. The snow beneath their feet was thick and compact, enough to crush a person if packed tightly. The wheelchair sank in slightly, like its wheels were being pressed into powder, but moved without any real hindrance.

Gu Tingshuang was surrounded by a pack of wolves, whose large white bodies almost blended with the storm. With the protection of the wolves forming a barrier around him, not a single gust of wind or flake of snow could reach him. The world of white stretched out unimpeded before his eyes.

Compared to when he previously left the palace to aid Ning Shiting at the civil office, this time he had travelled farther—something that would surely surprise everyone. Yet, Gu Tingshuang couldn’t fully understand his own motivation. He simply wanted to leave the house, and so he did. This urge took form from the moment Ning Shiting departed, slowly built up, and then solidified when the beast tamer in the garden had gathered the wolves. Seeing the melting snow on the old man’s body, Gu Tingshuang found himself lost in thought.

What would Ning Shiting look like out in this heavy snow?

Was he still wearing that tight military uniform, wrapping himself snuggly? Did he still hide a thorny, obsessive heart beneath that warm exterior?

Gu Tingshuang realised that he was becoming increasingly interested in Ning Shiting. The man was mysterious, complex, and full of contradictions. This was the cautious curiosity one has toward an enemy. To know oneself and the other was the path to winning every battle. Yet to this day, Gu Tingshuang still couldn’t discern Ning Shiting’s true motives. The Jiaoren’s words, “I want to kill the Qing Wang,” also left him uncertain. Was that really what Ning Shiting desired?

He had delved into Ning Shiting’s memories and knew how Ning Shiting had once felt about Gu Feiyin—trust, reliance, and an unreserved dedication that burned intensely. After Ning Shiting was taken in by Gu Feiyin, he followed him submissively and respected him deeply. How could such a person, one day, want to kill him?

Ning Shiting had Gu Feiyin, and he had his status as a highly regarded "Gongzi." Though he was a venomous Jiaoren, he was still valued by many.

Gu Tingshuang, on the other hand, was truly alone. No one loved him, and no one stood by his side. He had resolved not to trust or love others since the age of ten, ever since the moment the candle flame flickered at his mother’s grave. In the Immortal Continent, when people passed away, a Manjusaka flower was planted by their grave. These flowers came in two colours: red and white. If the deceased still had unfulfilled desires or regrets, the Manjusaka would bloom white. If they passed without any burdens, the flower would be the purest red.

Before the Wangfei passed, the Manjusaka bloomed pale white.

The funeral attendants said it was an ill omen and tried replacing it with the reddest flower, but the same result occurred. The vibrant red flower, placed at the grave, would soon fade as if consumed by some invisible force, vanishing without a trace.

Gu Tingshuang knew his mother’s concern was for him. She, frail and gentle as she was, feared that his solitary and rebellious nature would leave him unable to find acceptance after his crippling injury.

Having nothing left to lose, one wrong step would mean complete failure.

Therefore, Ning Shiting was his enemy.

And that was why… he so desperately wanted to understand him.

A piercing cry cut through the sky, and a white wolf, with its tail high, stepped through the clouds, carrying the scent of blood in the fierce wind. It broke through the snowstorm and landed before him.

Gu Tingshuang raised his gaze slightly. The wolves ahead parted, revealing a she-wolf carrying a lifeless white Qing bird in its mouth, its blood dripping steadily.

The wolf's heavy breathing echoed through the bloodied gap, like the sound of a bellows.

Gu Tingshuang extended his hand, signalling the she-wolf to approach.

This was one of the wolves left behind in the spirit mountains, the mate of the golden-backed wolf and one of his most trusted allies.

“A white Qing bird, a snow-type creature, the only kind of Qing bird that can fly freely in such heavy snow without being affected. There are only a few of them across all nine continents. They are typically...” Gu Tingshuang’s voice trailed off in the wind. “...used as messengers by the Imperial family. However, this bird carried no trace of the Emperor’s seal or the aura of the Dust-Bead, meaning this message likely came from the Empress’s household.”

The she-wolf respectfully moved forward, gently pressing her nose against Gu Tingshuang’s palm.

This was how wolves communicated, passing information through scent. When they met their kin or companions, they would lightly nip or lick each other’s noses to show control or submission.

Before he turned ten, Gu Tingshuang knew nothing of the world. But after that age, he began consciously cultivating his spiritual awareness, and one day, he found he could understand the wolves' language without actively using his spiritual power. This ability, however, was limited to the ancient white wolves alone. Despite his efforts to communicate with other sentient creatures, he had no success.

This peculiar limitation troubled him for a long time. After much thought, he could only conclude that, among all sentient and intelligent beings, the white wolf deity tribe was the closest to humans, and his spiritual cultivation only worked on them.

The she-wolf conveyed all she knew: this letter was sent from outside Xizhou to the interior. Since those outside did not know the extent of the snow demon threat or feared the letter would be lost, they sent a pair of white Qing birds with identical messages. The wolves had intercepted one of them.

Amidst the snow, Gu Tingshuang opened the letter and glanced at it in the moonlight. His night vision wasn’t good, so he borrowed the she-wolf’s vision to read the contents.

The message was brief: “The Jiaoren must be executed.”

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

After Lingjiao spoke, silence fell over the group. Even the two wolves understood the gravity of the words and crouched down, baring their teeth in readiness, awaiting Ning Shiting’s command.

No one said a word, but the tension was palpable. A murderous aura seemed to sweep through the area.

Yet with the heavy snow and fierce wind, standing still could lead to being blown over, and losing one’s way in the storm was a real possibility. In such conditions, if someone were to make a sudden move, who could fend it off?

Ning Shiting looked down at the frozen ground beneath him, soaked through with ice, and then abruptly raised his head, gesturing for everyone to retreat: “Fall back.”

The command was clear. Though Lingjiao and Hulu hesitated, unsure of how to respond, the two ancient white wolves immediately obeyed, snarling at the others to retreat and driving them away.

Once they had moved back, the wolves returned to Ning Shiting’s side.

Ning Shiting remained where he was. He felt the furry heads of the wolves nudge him protectively. He patted them gently on the head, reassuring them.

“You too—get farther from me. No need to worry.”

The wind howled louder, and the wolves backed off.

Ning Shiting stood still. Yet his posture had changed. He was no longer standing in a relaxed manner. Instead, every muscle was now tensed, like a tempered jade sword revealing its cold edge before being drawn from its sheath.

He listened closely to the sounds in the wind and snow, using his keen Jiaoren hearing and the danger-sensing skills he had honed under the guidance of the Bujian Sect to quickly discern and interpret everything around him.

The snowfield was vast and empty. They had chosen a secluded spot for him—an inconspicuous area near the northwest corner of the city gates. Here, the walls had been partially knocked down by the wind and snow. One step further would take him to the wind's edge, where the gusts blew fiercely, but just next to it was a calm, wind-free zone.

Every gap the wind passed through left its mark. Ning Shiting could tell that in areas where there should have been nothing, abandoned buildings and slanted terrain, something had appeared. The wind had encountered obstacles there, as though air passing through a flute had hit a block. It meant that the once-empty spaces were now filled—with people.

And not just a few, but an entire crowd of assassins, their silent killing intent directed at Ning Shiting.

In a flash, Ning Shiting deduced that there were at least thirty or more attackers. The number matched the group that had once attacked Qing Wang’s residence in his previous life. Though the timing was different, the threat was the same. This time, he hadn’t acted against Su Yue, but they still feared his Jiaoren nature, his growing influence in Xizhou, and the connection he had to Qing Wang.

The Su family must have reported to the Empress's faction about the grain situation during his first month in Xizhou, leading them to the conclusion: Ning Shiting had to die.

They had calculated that he would use poison, that his hearing was sharp, and thus chose this moment. The wind and snow would disrupt a normal person's sight and hearing, and Ning Shiting, without any magic, would have fewer chances to defend himself.

However—

Ning Shiting chuckled softly and lightly recited something from within his sleeve. A fragrant breeze swirled around his fingertips, dissipating seamlessly into the wind and snow.

"Things are not as they once were, Lord Su."(1)

At the same moment, he took a small step back. The assassin who had lunged at him collapsed instantly—his body flooded with deadly poison in that brief moment. He never even saw how Ning Shiting had struck.

Contrary to their expectations, the wind and snow did not hinder the poison Jiaoren’s hearing and sense of smell. Instead, the storm had only enhanced his abilities.

That step Ning Shiting took wasn't just to avoid the sudden attack; it was as if he had deliberately left an opening, waiting for the assassin to lunge into nothing.

As the assassin died, the last thing he saw was the Jiaoren's serene and elegant eyes, their deep colour holding a myriad of stars, slightly tinged with a blueish green hue—a beauty both ethereal and wicked.

Foot Notes

1. The word is “大人” (da ren) which means adult. Similar to saying “Mr.”.