The Tibetan monks thought to themselves: "The Central Plains truly is a land teeming with masters—its reputation is no lie!" They had believed the Tianshan Nun, being but one woman, would be easy to deal with. Yet her swordsmanship was exquisite, her movements ethereal, her style blending hardness with softness. In the end, she repelled their so-called elites one after another.
Just then, Master Geleba threw back his head in hearty laughter, his voice booming:"Tianshan Nun, your skills are truly formidable! We have witnessed enough for today. Why not cease battle for now, and continue tomorrow?"
After sweeping his gaze over the crowd in thought, he barked:"Let us go! Tomorrow we shall return to seek instruction once more!"
With a wave of his hand, he led the monks away. Soon their figures vanished into the snowy horizon, leaving only deep hoofprints and footprints behind in the snow.
When the Lama Sect had departed, Manichaean Dharma King Li Rui and Fire-Worship Dharma King Zhao Ke both stepped forward. Zhao Ke bowed gratefully:"Thank you, Reverend, for your righteous aid!"
But the Tianshan Nun showed no joy in her victory. Her brows knitted as she sighed:"The ambitions of Tibet are vast. I fear this matter is far from over."
Her gaze swept over the gathering, full of unease. Tibet, a theocracy, would never send the Lama Sect merely to spread doctrine. It was plain that the Tibetan king harbored designs of aggression, seeking to extend his reach into the martial world of the Central Plains.
All present understood the gravity of the threat. They withdrew into the temple to deliberate. It was clear that tomorrow, still more Lama masters would arrive, and the conflict would only escalate. Zhao Ke Dharma King at once ordered his followers to tighten defenses and strengthen vigilance around the shrine. Li Rui Dharma King said:"I have already dispatched our elite disciples to inform Dharma King Aros. He will surely come to aid us and should arrive soon."
Zhao Ke nodded."Many thanks, Dharma King Li. Tonight, let everyone rest well, restore their strength, and tomorrow we will decide our course."
Then Li Rui turned to Wu Tong with curiosity."Lord Wu, how did you come to know the Fire-Worship Sect was in danger today?"
Wu Tong smiled."For that, I must thank Chief Song of the Iron Fist Gang. Without his message, I would never have known."
He promptly introduced Song Qiang to the assembly. Zhao Ke immediately arranged quarters for everyone to rest, in preparation for the coming battle.
At dawn the next day, as roosters crowed and the first light spilled over the snowy peaks, the earth glistened in silver. Suddenly, three riders appeared on the horizon, galloping like the wind across the white plains, racing straight toward the shrine of the Fire-Worship Sect. Their hooves thundered through the snow, kicking up plumes of powder, their speed like arrows loosed from a bow.
Moments later, the horses reared with piercing whinnies, then landed firmly. Three figures dismounted in unison—swift and sure. They were two women and a man: Zhao Rou, Liu Yun, and Dharma King Aros!
At the sight of them, the crowd rushed forward. Li Rui Dharma King recognized them instantly, joy lighting his face."Dharma King Aros—your arrival is most timely indeed!"
His voice carried unconcealed relief and delight. Zhao Ke too smiled broadly. The company gathered together, hearts lifted, readying for the decisive struggle to come.
But then—
"Aros!"
A plaintive cry rang out. Aros turned sharply, stunned. His eyes met those of the Tianshan Nun, and his heart trembled. Her hair, once cascading over her shoulders, was now shaven beneath her veil. His chest ached with sorrow as his eyes brimmed with tears.
"Hui Xin…" he whispered, his voice heavy with grief.
The nun replied softly:"This humble one's Dharma name is Huixin. I took the vows long ago."
Aros sighed deeply."After all these years apart, we meet again—yet now both of us walk the path of renunciation."
The past was gone, withered like last year's blossoms. Tomorrow they would once more be mountains apart.
Years ago, Aros and Huixin had known one another deeply, yet his relentless pursuit of the Way left her heart wounded. In sorrow, she departed for the Tianshan ranges, shaved her head, and founded the Convent of Water and Moon. Their fated bond had long since dissolved, and they were not meant to meet again.
Yet Huixin, after years of Buddhist practice and realization, came to understand that all possession is fleeting, all past but smoke in the wind. Her return to the Central Plains was in truth to see Aros once more, to bring closure to their karmic bond—what Buddhists call past-life ties, the fruit of causes planted long before. On her way she had even taken in a lost child, the little girl Yu Xuan—yet another thread of fate.
Though their earthly bond was severed, both Aros and Huixin now walked the Way in their own paths, dedicating themselves to saving the suffering and upholding righteousness.
A verse rose in the cold air:
With tearful eyes, a backward glance;Who knew she would seek the Buddha's gate?To end old bonds, enlightenment found;To guard the world with a loyal soul.
Meanwhile, Wu Tong and Li Qian rushed joyfully to Zhao Rou and Liu Yun. Wu Tong embraced them both, pouring out words of affection, asking after their journey. Their tender reunion stirred envy in all who looked on. Four youths, bound by deep feeling, sharing laughter and love—what knew they of sorrow?
Pouring forth affection, hearts entwined;Mortal love is but fate's design.The joys of men and women alike—Ah, too much love leaves no words behind.
The four elders—Zhao Ke, Li Rui, the Tianshan Nun, and Aros—watched the young ones' playful reunion with gentle smiles. Once, they too had been young, swept in love and passion. But the years had passed, worldly illusions faded, and their emotions had deepened into something beyond romance. Only little Yu Xuan remained innocent, her wide eyes brimming with wonder.
As snowflakes drifted from the sky, she stretched her arms with a cry of delight:"It's snowing! It's snowing! Brother, sisters—come play with me!"
Zhao Rou and Liu Yun laughed in delight."All right! Let's play!"
Wu Tong scooped up a handful of snow, leapt lightly into the air, and hurled it playfully at the two girls. They dodged with their lightness skill, laughing, and retaliated with their own snowballs. White arcs streaked through the air. Soon, all were chasing, throwing, laughing. Their merriment echoed through the silent mountain forest. Even the elders could not resist joining in, their laughter mingling with the youths'. For a time, the snowy world became a battlefield of joy, warmed by laughter in the cold of winter.
But this fleeting peace did not last.
As the sun sank westward and dusk painted the clouds crimson, the snowfields glowed with a dreamlike sheen. Smoke from distant huts curled upward, heralding nightfall.
Yet suddenly—on the horizon appeared a troop of riders, dozens strong. Their galloping hooves sent up waves of snow, their momentum thunderous. Their figures grew clearer with each breath. Though they bore no immediate hostility, their steady bearing and sharp gazes betrayed strength and discipline. And their numbers—far greater than the day before.
The company tensed, laughter dying in their throats. Only the whisper of the cold wind stirred the silence.
Then—two more riders burst across the horizon, racing like the wind, garments streaming, hooves pounding faster and faster.
Were they friend—or foe?
The storm after the calm was about to break…