Chapter Forty-Four: The Winter Songster

Once, during a conversation between the mountain master and Su Ziye, the matter of Dark Star was also mentioned. These two words seemed to possess an inexplicable, magical power—whenever they were spoken, a heavy and solemn atmosphere would descend.

“In fact, you shouldn’t be surprised,” Carlotus said to Su Ziye with a smile. “Even Dark Star would be reluctant to stir up trouble in Ye Night City, but if they have a reason that compels them to act, then their technology will come into play.”

“After all, when it comes to research and mastery of imaginary space, no one in the world can surpass Dark Star.”

Su Ziye shook his head. “This time, it’s a little different.”

“If it were Dark Star taking action directly, I wouldn’t be that surprised, but the one probing this time is merely a pawn of the Blue Wing.”

“His strength is decent, but nothing astonishing. Yet, he holds such means in his hands. It seems Dark Star is planning something big in Ye Night City.”

“Or perhaps Dark Star hasn’t yet identified who you really are,” Carlotus commented coolly.

“That’s the likeliest scenario, and at present, it’s also my greatest advantage.” Su Ziye nodded with a smile. “I can only use this to surprise them.”

“If Dark Star intends to target you, then Xiye must also be on their assassination list. What will you do?” Carlotus asked, gazing at Su Ziye.

“Every adult should be responsible for their own life and choices. Though I’m not yet an adult, he already is,” Su Ziye replied calmly. “When the nest is overturned, not one egg remains intact.”

“So that’s why you’re so determined to break out of your shell and take flight?” Carlotus praised sincerely. “I truly admire you.”

“So, what’s your next move?”

“Does hiding in Ye Night Academy count?” Su Ziye asked in return.

“Of course it counts. You’ve already obtained the badge, so by any standard, you’re a student now. But that only applies if you stay within the academy and don’t leave until things settle down,” Carlotus said, fixing his gaze on Su Ziye. “But I doubt you went to all this trouble just for that.”

“Nothing escapes the Chairman’s notice. This is my test, and also my counterattack,” Su Ziye replied calmly. “Everyone should be responsible for their own life and future. I have no regrets about my choices.”

“Since everything’s settled, I’ll take my leave now,” Su Ziye said, bidding farewell to Carlotus.

“You’re just going to retrace your steps?” Carlotus asked.

“What else?” Su Ziye replied.

“You could ask His Highness the Third Prince to escort you back,” Carlotus suggested quietly.

“His Highness isn’t some beast of burden,” Su Ziye said with a smile. “I still have two legs; I can walk back myself.”

“Though you haven’t been fully exposed yet, the identity of Liu Ru is already quite special in Ye Night City,” Carlotus cautioned.

Su Ziye quietly revealed the dagger in his hand and smiled. “Well, I still have teeth.”

“Very well, then all I can do is wish you a safe journey,” Carlotus said, signaling the end of their meeting.

“Farewell.” Su Ziye gazed at Carlotus and bowed elegantly. With Liu Ru’s slender form and poise, the gesture was breathtaking.

Carlotus sighed. “Whenever I recall that you’re actually a boy, I can’t help but feel a little nauseated.”

...

“So you’ve lost the Winter Singer?” The sickly, black-haired youth pressed his forehead, troubled.

“Young master, that girl’s strength is truly terrifying,” You Lie warned, his face deathly pale.

“How terrifying?” The youth asked, intrigued. “How does she compare to me?”

You Lie swallowed hard. “She might be even stronger than you, young master.”

“Really?” the youth asked. As he spoke, he vanished from where he stood and reappeared beside You Lie, pressing his foot on You Lie’s head with a playful expression.

“I don’t know why you dared to return after losing the Winter Singer.”

“I had to come back and warn the young master,” You Lie whispered. “Liu Ru’s strength is unfathomable. Among all the participants in this third trial, she may be the most fearsome. Young master, you should stop testing her.”

“If you hadn’t lost the Winter Singer and had come back to tell me this, I might have listened. But now you return empty-handed—do you know what punishment awaits you?” the youth said coldly.

“I know,” You Lie replied, offering no resistance despite his head being pinned down. “But if you continue to trouble her, something even worse will happen. It won’t stop at losing the Winter Singer...”

Before he could finish, the youth pressed his foot down, as easily as crushing a watermelon.

You Lie fell silent forever.

The youth walked step by step toward the window, leaving a long trail of bloody footprints behind.

Leaning on the windowsill, he gazed out at Ye Night City’s towering white spire.

“Young master,” someone called softly from behind.

“Failures deserve to die,” the youth murmured as he looked out the window, his tone tinged with melancholy. “Of course, that includes me.”

“And Liu Ru?” the person behind him asked.

“I’ve already sent my regards. Either I kneel and apologize, or I see this through to the end,” the youth said coldly. “So I have no choice but to stake my life as well.”

“This is Ye Night City, after all,” the voice behind him reminded gently.

“Then let’s settle things by the rules of Ye Night City,” the youth replied. “On June 6th, I will personally challenge Liu Ru.”

“Understood,” the person behind him sighed.

...

Su Ziye’s return was surprisingly smooth, so much so that when he knocked on the door, it was still only afternoon.

Liu Ru opened the door.

Seeing Su Ziye return safe and sound, Liu Ru felt unsurprised yet deeply relieved in that instant.

“Nothing unexpected happened, right?” Liu Ru asked with concern.

“There was a bit,” Su Ziye said as he entered and shut the door.

Liu Ru was just about to say “that’s good,” but was caught off guard by Su Ziye’s words and didn’t know what to say for a moment.

“I have a gift for you,” Su Ziye said, extending his hand. The Winter Singer manifested in his palm.

Liu Ru looked at the dagger in his hand, finding it strangely familiar, yet unable to immediately recall why.

“The Winter Singer,” Su Ziye introduced succinctly.

Suddenly, Liu Ru remembered everything.

Back in the Hall of Stars, she had listened to Carlotus introduce the Winter Singer. Yet only a day had passed, and now this famed spiritual weapon was in Su Ziye’s possession?

“What did you do?” Liu Ru asked in worry.

“Nothing much,” Su Ziye said, shaking his head. “Someone tried to trouble me with this dagger, but failed, so they left it for me.”

The boy spoke with such modesty.

But Liu Ru knew that there was a killer living inside his body.

“So, is he dead?” Liu Ru asked.

“No,” Su Ziye replied quietly.

“That’s good,” Liu Ru breathed a sigh of relief.

If the man were dead, the enmity would be far greater.

“But once he’s back, who can say?” Su Ziye added.

Liu Ru shot him a glare for the suspense. “What if he does die?”

“Then they’ll hold Liu Ru responsible,” Su Ziye said calmly.

He watched Liu Ru’s expression.

But she simply nodded. “Alright.”

“You’re not worried?” Su Ziye asked.

“I am,” Liu Ru replied.

“But I can’t tell,” said Su Ziye, for Liu Ru showed no emotion at all.

“Because worry is useless,” Liu Ru said seriously. “The man is dead, and you’ve taken the spiritual weapon. Naturally, things will escalate to a life-and-death struggle. I can’t change that, so all I can do is accept it.”

“So you don’t blame me?” Su Ziye asked.

“Would it help?” Liu Ru asked in return.

“Perhaps it would,” Su Ziye mused. “I’d listen if you complained.”

“Then forget it,” Liu Ru said quietly.

She had already reached out to take the dagger.

This, too, was a result of Su Ziye’s teachings. At heart, Su Ziye was an extreme pragmatist, always focused on whether something was useful. If it wasn’t, he almost never did it.

Liu Ru had once asked him—was it useless to save me back then?

Su Ziye did not answer directly; he simply uttered four words:

“Out of interest.”

“How do I use it?” Liu Ru asked, holding the cold dagger. Even just gripping it, she felt her whole body heat up.

She didn’t protest that such a precious item was too valuable to accept. Since Su Ziye had said it was a gift, she took it without hesitation.

“You can choose to bind it with your blood,” Su Ziye explained, and before he finished, Liu Ru had already sliced her palm with the dagger, letting her blood flow onto it.

The bright red blood was instantly absorbed by the Winter Singer as if it were a sponge.

“Or you can infuse your own energy into it,” Su Ziye continued, a bit helplessly watching her actions.

“And then?” Liu Ru asked, looking at Su Ziye.

She was still holding the dagger.

“Then close your eyes, sense the soul and aura of the Winter Singer, and try to envelop it within your body through breath,” Su Ziye instructed.

Liu Ru obediently closed her eyes. Following Su Ziye’s guidance, she soon felt her hand empty.

“It’s gone,” Liu Ru said in surprise, opening her eyes to find the dagger had indeed disappeared from her hand.

“Now look inward, find where the Winter Singer is within your body, and try to fix it in place. When you need it, simply visualize it through meditation and it will materialize,” Su Ziye continued to instruct. “Once you’re practiced, the weapon’s deployment should be instantaneous.”

Liu Ru nodded. Her foundations were solid, and Su Ziye’s teachings weren’t difficult. Soon, she could materialize the dagger at will, and after a few repetitions, she couldn’t help but marvel at its wonder.

Spiritual weapons truly were extraordinary.

“I heard the Winter Singer can make its wielder invisible. How does that work?” Liu Ru asked.

“You have to hold it,” Su Ziye answered. When Liu Ru brought out the Winter Singer, he nodded. “Try channeling your energy into it and activate the magic array inscribed within.”

Liu Ru nodded and did as he instructed, immediately feeling the intricate, thread-like patterns light up under her touch. In that instant, she felt as if she and the Winter Singer had become one.

The next moment, Liu Ru felt her body grow suddenly “transparent.”

Transparent wasn’t quite the right word—rather, every beam of light seemed to slide smoothly along her form, leaving her almost a formless ghost.

Looking down, she couldn’t even see her own body.

At the same time, her whole body began to burn, as if she were standing in a furnace.

“Can you see me?” Liu Ru asked, looking at Su Ziye.

“How’s the heat?” Su Ziye asked in turn.

“I can manage,” Liu Ru replied calmly.

She had already grown used to enduring extreme heat through her energy cultivation, so the negative effects of the Winter Singer now felt like nothing more than a drizzle.

“Then it suits you well,” Su Ziye said, nodding. “The Winter Singer’s invisibility works by bending light, so almost no one can see you with the naked eye. In darkness, you’ll be in your element. Of course, all spiritual weapons require their master to provide energy. The Winter Singer’s consumption is actually quite low.”

“Yes,” Liu Ru agreed. “Thank you.”

“I thought you wouldn’t thank me,” Su Ziye said lightly.

“It really does suit me,” Liu Ru repeated.

She had never imagined she would possess a spiritual weapon so soon.

In truth, Liu Ru’s current strength was still quite modest, and all her combat abilities were close-range. A dagger like this, which could merge with the body and grant stealth, was not only sharper than any normal blade but also bestowed ice damage on top of its practicality and collectible value—no wonder it held a prominent spot on the list of spiritual weapons.

“By the way, do you have a spiritual weapon?” Liu Ru asked.

“Don’t you think that’s a bit direct?” Su Ziye replied.

From his familiarity with spiritual weapons, the idea that he didn’t possess one was a joke.

Yet in fact, Liu Ru had almost never seen Su Ziye use one.

“You don’t have to answer,” Liu Ru said.

“Of course I have one. But it’s not practical to carry too many spiritual weapons,” Su Ziye smiled. “If you’re lucky, you’ll see mine here in Ye Night City.”