Chapter 3: Lanterns, Rhymes, and Hidden Paths
The snowflakes danced like scattered silver coins as Zhao Xunan and Zhao Ping'er wandered deeper into the lantern-lit streets of Qingliang Prefecture. The Kaiyuan Celebration—once-in-sixteen-centuries—had transformed the normally quiet thoroughfares into a sea of light, where laughter and the scent of spiced wine mingled under the glow of thousands of paper lanterns.
"Master, look!" Zhao Ping'er tugged his sleeve, pointing to a stall where a lantern shaped like a phoenix spun lazily above a table. Its colored glass panes cast rainbow shards across the snow, illuminating a riddle scrawled in bold calligraphy: "What shines brighter than the stars, yet fades faster than dawn?" The prize? A delicate silver phoenix hairpin, its feathers woven with emerald threads.
Zhao Xunan's lips curved. "That's yours, Ping'er."
Her eyes widened. "But—"
"Take it. You deserve it."
She darted to the stall, returning a moment later with the hairpin clutched to her chest. "Master, thank you!" Her voice wavered, and Zhao Xunan realized—with a pang—how much she'd grown. No longer the timid maid, but a girl who'd stand by his side, no matter the cost.
The riddle's answer had been simple, but the path to Tongshan Temple's lanterns was anything but. They followed whispers and half-heard clues, weaving through back alleys until they reached a dead end.
Ahead stood a ten-foot wall, its surface blank save for a single lantern. Its light was pale, almost eerie, swaying in the wind.
"Master…" Zhao Ping'er's voice trembled. "This is… spooky."
Zhao Xunan stepped forward, brushing snow off the wall. The riddle etched into the paper was brief:
"Come and go without a trace.
Life and death, but a dream's embrace."
He froze. The words felt familiar—too familiar. In his past life, his father had muttered similar lines on his deathbed. "Life is but a dream…"
"Master? What does it mean?"
Before he could answer, a voice cut through the silence—cold, hollow, and utterly unexpected.
"Well, well. What do we have here?"
Three scholars emerged from the shadows, their robes dyed indigo. At their center stood a man with silver-streaked hair, his eyes sharp as blades.
"Dao Palace Heaven-Mender," Zhao Xunan growled, his fists clenching.
The man smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Ah, the reborn prodigy. I've been waiting for you."
The encounter left Zhao Xunan on edge. The Heaven-Mender's words felt like a challenge, a reminder of the past life he'd sworn to rewrite. But for now, there was another mystery to unravel: the Treasure Seeker's Record.
Rumors said the scroll revealed the locations of divine artifacts. In his past life, the genius Dou Sheng had solved Tongshan Temple's riddles, securing a place among the cultivation elite. This time, Zhao Xunan would claim that prize—not for glory, but for the power to hunt down the Heaven-Menders and make them pay.
Later, as they wandered back toward the market district, a familiar figure emerged from the crowd: Old Ran, the weathered guard who'd served the Li household for decades. His face was carved with scars, but his eyes held a sharpness that belied his age.
"Master Zhao—heading to the celebration?"
At the gate stood Old Ran, the weathered guard who'd served the Li household for decades. His face was carved with scars, but his eyes held a sharpness that belied his age.
"Ran Shibo," Zhao Xunan inclined his head. "Planning to stay for the lanterns?"
Old Ran chuckled, his voice gravelly. "Aye. But first—" He pressed a crumpled note into Zhao's hand. "A bottle of Tiankui Tusu wine. Freshly brewed this year. Consider it a New Year's gift from an old soldier."
Zhao Xunan started to refuse, but Old Ran waved him off. "Don't argue. A man who's seen as much blood as I have doesn't need charity. This is… gratitude. For treating me like a man, not a dog."
With that, he turned back to his post, his coat flapping in the wind. Zhao Xunan stared after him, a chill running down his spine. Old Ran's words had been too deliberate, his tone too knowing. He knows something about the lamp riddles.
The night deepened, and the streets grew more crowded. Zhao Ping'er, her cheeks flushed from the cold, clutched his arm as they passed a stall selling candied plums.
"Master, let's try one!"
He smiled, buying a handful. As she bit into one, her eyes lit up. "So sweet!"
But Zhao Xunan's smile faded as he watched her. In his past life, he'd been too consumed by bitterness to notice her loyalty, too weak to protect her. Now, with decades of regret and a second chance, he'd make sure she never felt unvalued again.
By the time they returned to the Governor's Mansion, the celebration was in full swing. Torches lined the walkways, and the air hummed with the sound of laughter and music.
"Master, look at all the people!" Zhao Ping'er breathed, her eyes wide.
Zhao Xunan nodded, his gaze drifting to the horizon. Five years, he thought. In five years, the Kunlun Secret Realm will open. And then…
But for now, there was only the present—the warmth of the lanterns, the taste of spiced wine, and the promise of a future he would carve with his own hands.
As they stepped through the gates, Zhao Ping'er suddenly tugged his sleeve. "Master, did you see that?"
He followed her gaze to a shadowy corner, where a figure in a tattered robe lingered, watching them. But when he looked again, the figure was gone, leaving only a faint whiff of incense in the air.
Zhao Xunan's jaw tightened. Not yet, he vowed. Not until I'm ready.
Inside, the fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows on the walls. Zhao Xunan closed his eyes, the Threefold Sixlights manual clutched to his chest.
This time, he thought, I'll soar higher than the clouds.