HCAW 166

Chapter 166: Side Story – Wind and Thunder in the Nine Provinces (4)

A mighty wind swept the earth as the snow thickened. Chu Kuang stood amidst the pale expanse of the world, stunned, staring blankly at the person before him.

There was no doubt—this was Penglai, before the ice wall had been broken, and the one before him was Tianfu Guard before tragedy struck—his master, and also himself. At that thought, Chu Kuang’s mind nearly spiraled into chaos. He let out a long sigh and pressed a hand to his brow.

Tianfu Guard, noticing their nearly identical appearance—like they were carved from the same mold—hesitated and asked, “You… called me Master?”

Chu Kuang looked at him with deep sorrow in his eyes. He recalled so many moments—how his master had saved him again and again from danger, how they had traveled side by side through bitter wind and rain. In the end, he had been forced to carve his master’s bones into a bow, parting from him in death. And yet now, this Tianfu Guard hadn’t yet consumed too much Immortal Elixir; his face remained unmarked. There was still time to change everything.

Looking down, Chu Kuang saw the flowing ink around his feet and knew he was merely a visitor in this world of the Heavenly Book—he could not stay long. He suddenly stepped forward, seized Tianfu Guard’s shoulders, and said urgently:

“Master, listen to me!”

Tianfu Guard stepped back, hand on his sword hilt in guarded stance. Chu Kuang grabbed his hand, pleading, “I came through the Heavenly Tome—I’m your disciple. I know Penglai is now trapped by the ice wall, and you’re all trying desperately to find a solution, right?”

Tianfu Guard nodded slowly, clearly still struggling to comprehend.

“This is good. If the ao turtle till lives, have it ram the ice wall! I don’t know what other methods there are, but that’s what we did!” Chu Kuang, feeling himself begin to float as more and more ink tentacles curled around him, grew panicked, his words stumbling.

“Master, no matter what comes, don’t lose heart! The ice wall can be broken—Penglai will see spring again!”

Frantically, he relayed the method they had used to break the wall. Though Tianfu Guard was still bewildered, his furrowed brows began to ease. “Thank you. What you said has truly enlightened me. But I still don’t know your name…”

At that moment, Chu Kuang felt an airy current lifting him skyward. He shouted as he was pulled away:

“Master, I don’t know if we’ll ever meet again! But if one day you take in a fool with a hole in his forehead, give him this name—!”

“I’m Chu Kuang—‘Like the Madman of Chu who sang to the phoenix and mocked Confucius’!”

As the words fell, a sudden wind surged. Snow and sleet swirled like a storm around him. Tianfu Guard raised his arm to shield his face. When he opened his eyes again, the world before him was empty.

He stood in confusion. Beneath the bright sky, he had witnessed something miraculous—a youth who looked just like him had appeared and disappeared. Yet the idea he had left behind—using the ao turtle to shatter the ice wall—was a wild yet possible solution.

He gazed at the falling snow and softly murmured, “‘Like the Madman of Chu who sang to the phoenix and mocked Confucius’…”

Then, he smiled gently, as though spring had returned through the frost:

“‘Chu Kuang’… That’s a fine name.”

————

Meanwhile, in the Penglai palace, Emperor Bai stood before the imperial throne, brows furrowed as he gazed down.

Before him stood a young man in dark robes, hair white as snow, his appearance quite like the emperor’s own—his face stern and cold as ice.

This youth had suddenly appeared, spouting cryptic words: “Taoyuan Stone Gate,” “ice wall,” “Da Yuan Dao”—none of which Emperor Bai understood. The youth called himself Fang Jingyu, claiming to be Emperor Bai from another world, and seemed very familiar with this place. After his long speech, he added:

“In short, if you fail to break the ice wall, don’t seek death. Don’t abandon Tianfu Guard to start a sect alone. Don’t kill your imperial grandfather. Don’t set your sights on Langgan Guard’s household. There’s always a path forward—Penglai will bloom again.”

His tone was harsh, like a lecture, leaving Emperor Bai completely flustered. He snapped:

“Who are you to rebuke me like this? I’ve done none of those things!”

Fang Jingyu replied, “In another world, you did—and we suffered terribly for it.”

Emperor Bai was speechless, vaguely sensing the fury in this other self. Fang Jingyu continued, “No matter what happens, don’t think you can face the ice wall alone. If anything arises, speak with Tianfu Guard first.” Just as Emperor Bai was about to retort, Fang Jingyu smirked and added:

“And if there’s someone you care for—just tell them. Don’t let the chance slip away.”

“What do you mean ‘someone I care for’?”

Emperor Bai’s heart skipped a beat. Fang Jingyu just looked at him with a calm smile. After a moment of silence, he said:

“You know it in your heart.”

“Rubbish! I have no such person.”

“Oh? And Tianfu Guard—what is he to you?”

At that moment, Emperor Bai felt as if he’d been struck hard. Just as he tried to speak, a gust of wind blew in, fluttering banners and stinging his eyes. When he blinked again, he saw a wisp of ink dissipating in the air. The person who looked just like him had vanished, like the moon reflected on water.

Had he suffered a daytime hallucination? He rubbed his eyes, only to see someone rushing up the jade steps, falling to one knee:

“Your Majesty!”

It was Tianfu Guard, now without his silver mask, panting breathlessly and utterly disheveled. Emperor Bai quickly helped him up. “What is it? You don’t need to kneel before me.”

Tianfu Guard recounted what he had just seen. The two soon realized they had shared nearly the same dream: a visitor from beyond the world, with the same suggestion for breaking the ice wall. Emperor Bai listened, growing increasingly restless, pacing anxiously as his cheeks flushed red.

Finally, Emperor Bai asked, “Minsheng… do you think what they said is true?”

“Whether true or false,” Tianfu Guard replied sincerely, “I believe it’s worth trying.”

“I only fear this method might bring ruin to Penglai,” Emperor Bai said softly, eyes downcast.

Tianfu Guard stepped forward and bowed. “Everything Your Majesty does is for Penglai. If the people complain, I will do my best to ease their fears. No matter how dangerous the road ahead, I will always remain loyal to Your Majesty.”

Suddenly, Emperor Bai reached out and tightly clasped his hand.

Startled, Tianfu Guard instinctively tried to pull back, but Emperor Bai entwined their fingers firmly, refusing to let go. It was an inappropriate gesture. Embarrassed, Tianfu Guard stammered:

“Your Majesty, this is…”

“Don’t move,” Emperor Bai murmured awkwardly. “I just wanted… to hold your hand.”

Their fingers locked together, as if linking their very souls—unbreakable. Tianfu Guard blushed, trying to explain, “If the court officials saw this, they’d say it breaks protocol…”

“Let them talk. I am the protocol.”

“Then what does this mean?”

“Nothing really.” Emperor Bai’s gaze met his, then shyly turned away. He thought of that youth’s words: “If there’s someone you care for, just say it—don’t miss your chance.” And now he wondered: Was Tianfu Guard the one I care for?

Yet at this moment, he couldn’t think of anyone else who mattered nearly as much. The more he tried to reason, the more memories flooded his mind: the two of them sitting in silence beneath autumn skies, the white-blue horse that always followed during hunts, their quiet strolls through the marketplace after sneaking past the palace walls…

Day after day, night after night, Tianfu Guard had always been there. And in the cold solitude of the throne, it was only his presence that ever made things feel warm.

At last, Emperor Bai muttered—his usual confidence gone:

“In any case… before I decide what to do, hold my hand and don’t let go.”

Tianfu Guard blinked. “Is that an order?”

“…Yes.” Emperor Bai coughed lightly, for once flustered.

“Then I shall obey.” Tianfu Guard smiled gently and tightened his grip. “I won’t let go until Your Majesty tells me to.”

Their eyes met—two mirrored reflections. Outside the palace, snowstorm raged, but in their world, there was only peace. Hand in hand, they faced the snowy expanse. Light danced on the frozen stream, and it was as if they could see the ao turtle wimming beneath, as if they could already glimpse the east wind melting the frost. Then, Penglai would thaw, the sky would clear, and all rivers would flow once more.

————

Ink flowed from the Heavenly Book, wisp by wisp, gradually forming the shapes of Fang Jingyu and Chu Kuang. The two staggered, dazed and dizzy.

They had been drawn into the Heavenly Book and entered another world, meeting other versions of themselves. But the time had been brief, as fleeting as a dream.

“Well?” asked a voice. They turned and saw Yiqing, the white-robed Daoist, leaning by the window, smiling softly at them. The smoke from the burnt Heavenly Book paper had already dispersed. “Now do you understand what the ‘Heavenly Book’ is capable of?”

Fang Jingyu nodded. “It seems there truly is no end to the wonders of this world. Beyond us, beyond the Taoyuan Stone Gate, and within the pages of the Heavenly Book—there are countless versions of us.”

“I only hope,” Chu Kuang sighed, “that in those other worlds, they too can find a way to break through the ice wall.”

Yiqing smiled. “There will always be a way. You entered the Heavenly Book and shared your method with them—they must have been inspired. Perhaps they’ll never face a dead end again.” With that, the two felt slightly reassured.

Yiqing then drew two heavy pouches from his sleeve and handed them over. “You helped me restore the Heavenly Book. I should thank you. Here’s a bit of travel money—please accept it.”

The two took the pouches—they were heavy with gold. Chu Kuang nearly drooled but still wiped his mouth cautiously. “Is this real? It’s not going to turn into ink and vanish, is it?”

Yiqing laughed. “Would I ever cheat those who helped me?” He added, “You’ve lingered long in Liyang—surely you’ve grown tired of it. The Nine Provinces are vast and filled with wonders. I won’t keep you any longer—I’ll even send you off.”

With a flick of his sleeve, a cloud surged forth and enveloped them. In the blink of an eye, the two stood bewildered at the foot of Tiantan Mountain. Their lost baggage, swords, and a warhorse stood waiting nearby.

They exchanged glances. This “Yiqing” was clearly a kind immortal—he had gathered their things and brought them to the road. It was a sign they should now depart.

Yet looking down the winding road ahead, they hesitated again. Fang Jingyu asked, “Brother Minsheng, now that we’ve descended the mountain… where should we go?”

Chu Kuang said nothing. Fang Jingyu weighed the heavy pouch. “We scraped together money hoping to afford our return. Looks like we have enough now. Should we… head home?”

Chu Kuang pulled the reins, stepped into the stirrup, and mounted the horse. “Silly brother, where we go next is up to us. The world is vast—anywhere can be home. From this moment on, every step we take is unwritten in the Heavenly Book. Not even the gods know what’s ahead.”

Fang Jingyu smiled. “Then I suppose there’s only one answer.”

The two exchanged a glance and said in unison: “We’ll travel all across the Nine Provinces—then head to Chang’an!”

A sudden breeze stirred the leaves, casting shadows through the forest. Chu Kuang grabbed Fang Jingyu’s hand and pulled him up behind him.

“Hold tight!”

“Even if you told me to let go, I wouldn’t,” Fang Jingyu replied with a smile.

So the two rode off beneath the trees, their figures slowly vanishing into the green. From birth, they were destined to shock the world. Ahead lay rivers, thunder, and legends.

Riding with the wind, Fang Jingyu wrapped his arms around Chu Kuang and whispered in his ear:

“Ten years ago, we said we’d cross the Heavenly Pass and explore the world together. Now is the time to fulfill that promise.”

As if in silent understanding, Chu Kuang turned to him, both their eyes brimming with joy. His double pupil gleamed like fiery red blossoms blooming toward the sun.

“Yes. From now on, we’ll walk together.”

Chu Kuang said. Ahead of them, the Nine Provinces lay veiled in mist, with Chang’an still far away. But their hands were already clasped tightly—never to part again.

“This life, unwavering.”

---

AN

And thus ends the tale of the little fish and little dog. The two of them will now spend many sweet days adventuring across the Nine Provinces. Perhaps there will be more extras in future festivals!

Next up: “The Paradox Staircase”—a reimagined version of the original concept, now set in a cyberpunk world. Expect a cold, emotionless enforcer x a flirty, cunning con artist. I’m challenging myself with a whole new style—hope I’ll have your support then too!