The fire crackled low as dawn approached. Smoke curled upward in soft spirals, melting into the pale sky. Lin Feng sat beside Liang Yue, who lay propped against a bed of moss-covered stone, her breathing shallow but steady.
He had done what he could—cleaned the wound, bound her side with silk strips, and kept her warm—but the gash left by the assassin's blade ran deep, both in flesh and spirit. Her face was pale, lips drawn tight, but she hadn't complained once.
Lin Feng stared into the dying flames. His clothes were singed, blood-streaked. The saber lay across his lap, strangely quiet, as though mourning.
"You should rest," Liang Yue muttered weakly.
Lin Feng turned. "You were the one nearly gutted."
She smirked. "Still giving orders, though."
A long silence settled between them.
"Why?" he asked at last.
Her brow furrowed slightly. "Why what?"
"Why did you take the hit for me?"
Liang Yue closed her eyes. For a moment, Lin Feng thought she might not answer. But then she spoke, voice softer than usual.
"Because… you remind me of someone I failed to protect."
He looked at her, surprised.
She didn't elaborate.
"Besides," she added dryly, "I've invested too much time training you. Can't let that go to waste."
He let out a breath that was half a laugh. "You could've let me die and spared yourself the trouble."
"And let the world be ruled by clumsy saber wielders with more courage than sense? No thanks."
Despite the pain, she gave him a small smile. It was the first genuine smile he'd seen from her.
Lin Feng felt something shift inside him. A warmth that had nothing to do with the fire.
---
Later That Day
Liang Yue slept most of the morning. Lin Feng stood watch, sharpening his senses as she had taught him—listening to wind shifts, watching bird patterns, feeling qi tremors in the ground.
He buried the three masked assassins in a shallow grave behind the ridge. Before covering the last body, he examined the mask.
Raven-shaped. Black lacquered iron. No markings.
Inside the mask, etched into the cheek lining, was a single sigil:
> 🔻 Symbol of the Shadow Wreath Sect
A long-forgotten assassin clan believed to be extinct.
He stared at it for a long moment, then burned the mask.
---
Nightfall
Liang Yue woke again as the stars lit the sky.
"You buried them?" she asked.
He nodded. "They deserved some kind of ending."
"They didn't."
"You still risked your life to fight them."
She exhaled slowly. "There's a difference between killing and honoring."
"I know," he said. "But… you're not alone anymore."
She blinked. "What?"
"You said you failed to protect someone before. You won't fail again. Because next time, I'll be protecting you."
She studied him for a long time, as if weighing his words. Then, without a word, she sat up despite the pain and reached into her pouch.
She pulled out a thin, jade-threaded ribbon—weathered but carefully folded.
"This was mine," she said. "From my first mission as a Snow Lotus disciple. It represents a vow taken under starlight."
She held it out.
"I swore never to fight beside anyone again."
Lin Feng hesitated. "And now?"
"Now I'm breaking that vow. Because if I'm going to fall again…" She tied the ribbon around his wrist. "I'd rather fall beside someone who makes me believe the world isn't as rotten as it seems."
He stared at the ribbon—cool, smooth, carrying the faint scent of snow blossoms.
"I'll carry it with honor," he said.
---
Three Days Later — Return to the Path
Liang Yue, though still recovering, insisted on moving forward. "We're too close to Red Hand territory," she said. "If they find the bodies, they'll send more."
Lin Feng crafted a makeshift sling to support her as they walked. The journey was slow, filled with pauses, but each step felt like progress.
They reached a highland pass where three rivers met beneath a broken pagoda. According to a half-burnt scroll Lin Feng found in the Red Glove's pouch, this was a lost checkpoint of the Hidden Lineage—once a training ground for traveling disciples.
As they stepped through the remains of the gate, the saber pulsed faintly.
"There's something here," Lin Feng whispered.
He moved through the ruins until he found it—a stone pedestal split in half, with a single line carved along its edge.
> "Only when the roots are wounded does the tree remember how deep they go."
Suddenly, the jade saber's glow flared. From the cracks in the pedestal, green light bled upward, forming a faint illusion: a spectral figure clad in robes similar to Lin Feng's grandfather.
"Another memory," Liang Yue said softly.
The echo spoke:
> "If you've come this far, then the line still lives. The Jade Saber was never a weapon of war. It was a promise—to protect those who have no voice. To draw no blood without cause. And to never—never—let power consume compassion."
The echo faded.
Lin Feng was silent for a long time.
Then he whispered, "I won't let this legacy rot in my hands."
Liang Yue nodded. "Then let's keep walking."
---
Ending Scene: Beneath the Full Moon
That night, they made camp by a lake reflecting the moonlight like polished silver. Liang Yue's wounds were healing, slowly but surely. Her breathing had steadied, and she moved with less pain.
They sat beside the water, quiet.
"I was wrong about you," she said.
"Only once?"
She chuckled. "Maybe twice."
He hesitated. "Yue… Why did the Snow Lotus really exile you?"
She glanced at him, then back at the stars.
"They told me I felt too much."
"What does that mean?"
"I broke formation during a battle. Ran into a burning village to save a child no one else would protect. I disobeyed orders. Cost lives, they said. But I couldn't stand by and let the weak die."
Lin Feng looked at her, admiration burning in his chest.
"I would've done the same."
She turned to him, silver eyes meeting his.
And for the first time, the distance between them didn't feel so vast.
---
End of Chapter 6