That's... Senior Brother's scabbard.
"In this life, I shall restore peace to the Da Qian Dynasty, live up to my father, live up to Ji'er, live up to the people of the world. I, Xia Xiaoman, have no regrets." Xia Xiaoman smiled as she looked at the wordless stele in front of her, striking it with her palm. With Nameless's burial mound shattered to dust, a snowy white sword hung suspended in midair.
"I'm sorry, Xue'er. Because your body was stained with Senior Brother's blood, I've been unwilling to face you, unwilling to face... myself."
Xia Xiaoman beckoned with her wrist, grasping the Frost Snow Sword after fifty years of separation. She carefully felt the sense of connected bloodline with the Frost Snow Sword, closed her eyes, and remained silent for a long time.
After the silence,
she suddenly turned around, smiling faintly. There stood an adorable little cat.
"Sister Chuchu, will you go to the East Sea with me?"
