The wind that swept across the northern plains was dry and sharp, carrying dust and the faint cry of distant eagles. In the far distance, a fortress of dark stone rose from the mist, the headquarters of the Northern Alliance Sect, where rumors traveled faster than blades.
Inside the great hall, Bai Lian stood before a massive map that stretched across the wall. Her silver hair glowed faintly under the lantern light, but her eyes were cold, calculating.
"Reports confirm it," said an armored messenger, kneeling beside her. "The Black Sky Sect's operation in the southern valley failed. Jian Wu escaped… with a woman from the White Lotus branch."
Bai Lian didn't speak at once. She traced her finger across the map, stopping at a small mark near the northern border. "Then he'll head north. The mountains there hide more than snow."
The messenger hesitated. "Should we pursue?"
Bai Lian smiled faintly. It wasn't the kind of smile that showed warmth, it was quiet, patient, like someone watching a storm form exactly as expected.
"No. Let the Black Sky Sect bleed first. If he survives them, he'll come to me on his own."
The room fell silent. The only sound was the soft crackle of the oil lamps and the wind outside.
When the messenger left, Bai Lian's expression changed. Her eyes softened for a moment, almost regret. "Jian Wu… you're still walking the same path, aren't you?"
Far from the sect's walls, deep in a pine forest blanketed by fog, Jian Wu and Mei Xue made camp beside a frozen stream. The night was cold, but not unbearable.
Mei Xue held her hands over a small fire while Jian Wu checked the faint cuts on his arms. His robe was torn at the shoulder; traces of the last battle still clung to his aura.
"You're getting slower," she teased softly, trying to lighten the mood.
He smirked without looking up. "Or maybe the world's getting faster."
The wind brushed through the pines, scattering a few flakes of snow that hadn't yet melted. For a moment, everything was still, until Mei Xue's face turned serious.
"Do you think the Black Sky Sect will stop?"
Jian Wu shook his head. "No. They're not chasing me because of who I am. They're chasing me because of what they believe I'll become."
"And what is that?"
He paused. The fire's reflection danced in his eyes. "A key. But they don't know what door I'm meant to open."
Mei Xue frowned. "Then who does?"
He looked up at the stars, faint, distant, and scattered. "Someone who's been waiting longer than we can imagine."
Elsewhere, on the other side of the northern pass, a figure in a gray cloak watched the sky. His hair was white as frost, and his right hand carried a ring shaped like an eye. He murmured softly,
"So, the heir still breathes… and the mist remembers."
Behind him, soldiers of the Iron Valley Sect stood silently, awaiting orders.
"Prepare the watchtowers," he commanded. "If the wind carries his name again, we'll be ready."
Back in the forest, Mei Xue stirred the fire again.
"You ever think about what happens after all this? After fighting, running, hiding…"
Jian Wu leaned back against a tree, closing his eyes for a second. "No one ever really stops running. They just change what they're running from."
"That's depressing."
He smiled faintly. "Realistic."
She sighed and threw a twig into the fire. The spark jumped, flickered, and died. "Then maybe I'll keep running next to you, at least until you stop pretending you're fine."
He opened one eye, looking at her. "You talk too much when you're tired."
"Maybe," she said, smiling this time. "But silence feels too heavy tonight."
He didn't answer. The fire popped, echoing softly in the dark.
Then, suddenly a gust of wind swept through the clearing, stronger than before. Jian Wu's aura flickered. He stood, eyes narrowing. "Something's wrong."
Mei Xue followed his gaze. The treeline was moving not from the wind, but from shadows.
Dark figures emerged between the trees, silent as hunters. Their robes bore no emblem. Mercenaries.
"Who sent them?" Mei Xue whispered.
Jian Wu's expression hardened. "Someone who doesn't want me to reach the north."
The first attacker leapt forward, sword flashing. Jian Wu blocked it with a twist of his wrist, black and white light colliding in a sharp burst. Sparks scattered.
The second attacker came from behind, but Mei Xue's blade met his, her stance firm despite exhaustion.
The fight wasn't long, but it was messy. The mercenaries were skilled, not reckless. They aimed for precision, the kind that came from orders given by someone powerful.
When the last man fell, Jian Wu knelt beside him, gripping his collar. "Who sent you?"
The man coughed, blood staining his lips. "The north… doesn't want you."
Then he went still.
Mei Xue's voice trembled. "Jian Wu, what does that mean?"
He stared at the body for a long moment, then stood up, wiping the blood from his hand.
"It means the wind's changed. And it's not just the Black Sky Sect anymore."
The forest grew quiet again, too quiet.
Back in the fortress, Bai Lian stood by her window, the snow beginning to fall. Her assistant entered quietly.
"Lady Bai," he said. "Our scouts reported movement near the southern ridge. It seems the mercenaries failed."
She didn't seem surprised. "Of course they did."
"Should we send more?"
Bai Lian turned, her eyes glinting with something sharp. "No. Let him come. The north wind will test him better than any blade."
She walked toward the balcony, letting the cold wind touch her face. "Besides," she murmured, "it's been too long since the world saw what happens when heaven chooses a mortal."
The snow thickened, falling silently across the dark mountains.
Far below, Jian Wu and Mei Xue walked through the same storm, unaware that every step they took was already being watched, not just by the living, but by the ancient forces waiting for the heir to awaken.
And in that cold wind, for the first time in years, Bai Lian smiled.