07. Xuan lingshuang

Azure sky city, Tianlian commandry, Lonshan province, Xioa Empire

Ye Xian, now clad in his clean blue robes, silently walked through the city gates, his feet carrying him with purpose through the bustling streets. The city was alive, though most of its denizens were already tucked away in their homes, preparing for rest as the night grew darker. The air was thick with the sounds of distant chatter, the clinking of metal from the smiths, and the faint, melodic hum of a flute being played somewhere in the distance. But none of that mattered to Ye Xian right now.

His thoughts flickered back to his time in the valley, to his brutal rebirth, and the rage that burned inside him. The anger towards those who had betrayed him—toward Wang Chi, the one who had been the architect of his suffering and the one who had taken everything from him.

The pain of Fiona's death still gnawed at him, threatening to rip his heart asunder with every thought. His fists clenched, his knuckles turning white as he walked through the city, his eyes blazing with the promise of vengeance.

"I will make them pay. All of them. Every last one," Ye Xian muttered under his breath, his voice a low, bitter whisper.

As he walked deeper into the heart of the city, his mind began to recall the familiar sights. The grand gates of the Ye Clan's estate loomed ahead of him, their towering stone walls a symbol of power and wealth. Even though it was late, the guards were alert, their eyes scanning the streets vigilantly. Ye Xian approached them with an air of quiet confidence, as though nothing had changed, and his identity had never been in question.

The guards recognized him immediately. Though Ye Xian was not the favored son, there was no mistaking his features—grey hair, obsidian eyes, the mark of his lineage clear. His presence alone commanded attention, even if only out of duty and respect for the clan he belonged to.

One of the guards stepped forward, bowing slightly. "Young Master Ye, it's late. The master was looking for you. Some guests have arrived .Do you require assistance?"

"I'm home," Ye Xian said simply, his voice cold and unyielding.

The guard hesitated for only a moment, then nodded, stepping aside to let him pass.

The moon hung high in the sky, casting a pale, silver glow over the Ye Clan's estate. The vast grounds, usually teeming with life during the day, were eerily silent under the shroud of night. Ye Xian's footsteps echoed faintly against the stone pathway as he approached the imposing main hall. His mind was clouded with thoughts of his past life, his tragic death, and his new, unfamiliar circumstances. He had only just entered the clan, but something felt different tonight.

As he stepped into the courtyard, his eyes landed on a figure standing near the edge of a serene pond. The water shimmered faintly under the moonlight, reflecting the pale light of the stars. A woman stood there, her silhouette graceful and commanding as she gazed at the calm surface of the water. Her long black hair shimmered with frosty accents, as though touched by the moon itself, and her icy blue eyes sparkled in the reflected light. The delicate frost-like ornaments woven into her hair caught the moonbeams, giving her an ethereal, almost unreal presence.

Ye Xian paused for a moment, his heart beating faster than usual. He wasn't expecting anyone at this hour, especially not someone so striking. There was an aura of regality about her, as if she were far above his station, a fact that only made him feel more out of place. He couldn't help but notice the faint ornaments in her hair, glimmering like the frost on a winter's morning. He instantly recognized her—Xuan Lingshuang. He had heard about the guest, but never in his wildest dreams did he imagine that the guest would be her. Though they had never met, Ye Xian had seen her a few times on special occasions.

For a brief moment, neither of them spoke, each sizing the other up. The silence was palpable, broken only by the soft rustling of the night breeze and the gentle lapping of water against the pond's edge.

"Ye Xian." Her voice, though soft, held a weight of authority that immediately caught his attention. "It's late. What brings you here?"

Xian blinked and thought, Lady, this is my estate, you know? I live here! Then he quickly added in his mind, I really should've said that out loud, but... probably not the best first impression, huh?

Her gaze never wavered, and Ye Xian could feel the sharpness of her observation. He cleared his throat, unsure how to approach her. The last time he had been with his family, they had hardly mentioned her.

"I… I didn't expect to find you here," Ye Xian said after a moment of hesitation. He couldn't help but admire the way she carried herself—poised and calm, even in this quiet, solitary setting.

Deep inside, he had long admired her from afar. Her ethereal beauty and her air of quiet strength captivated him. He had heard stories of her exceptional swordsmanship, her mastery of ice and moon arts, and the way she was revered in the Moonlight Sect. Despite his own feelings of inadequacy, something in him couldn't help but yearn for her, even if he knew that such desires were hopeless.

Xuan Lingshuang's expression remained cool, but her lips curved into a slight, almost imperceptible smile. "I wasn't planning to meet you under such circumstances either, but I suppose fate has a way of bringing us together," she replied, her tone just a touch more personal than before.

He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to her statement. How could she have known about him? They had never met before tonight, and though he had heard of her, their paths had never crossed until now.

As if reading his thoughts, Xuan Lingshuang's gaze shifted slightly, her eyes narrowing ever so subtly as she regarded him. "You're wondering how I knew who you were," she said, her voice calm—almost too calm. Her observation felt uncanny.

Ye Xian blinked, taken aback. "I… yes. We've never met before, but you seem to know about me. How?"

Xuan Lingshuang tilted her head slightly, a small glint of understanding flashing in her ice-blue eyes. "It wasn't hard to figure out." She looked at him, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "You may not realize it, but your hair is quite a distinctive feature, Ye Xian."

Ye Xian's hand instinctively went to his grey locks, his fingers brushing through the strands that felt as though they weighed more than they should. He had always considered them a symbol of failure, the mark of a life lost—a sign that he had fallen from a realm that others took for granted.

Grey hair wasn't something anyone would be proud of in the cultivation world. It was a clear indicator that he had been through a great fall, an accident, and a forced setback. Most cultivators his age would be at the peak of their strength, but Ye Xian had lost everything. His past life, his identity, his cultivation… it had all crumbled away.

He felt a strange mixture of frustration and helplessness bubble up within him as he let his hand fall. "I know it's unusual," he muttered, trying to keep his voice steady. "But I thought it was something that could be hidden. It's just… a reminder of how far I've fallen."

Xuan Lingshuang's expression softened, though her gaze never lost its sharpness. "It's not just the color of your hair that sets you apart, Ye Xian. It's the aura you carry—one that's different from others. Most cultivators hide behind their power, their titles, their sects… but you, you're something else entirely." Her tone grew contemplative, almost introspective. "I saw it in you when you walked in, even before I saw your face. There's an… echo about you. A lingering presence that doesn't belong here. You're a person who has been through something."

Ye Xian felt a chill run down his spine at her words. She wasn't just talking about his outward appearance—she was speaking about his essence, the core of who he was. Did she somehow sense the remnants of his past life as Adler? Could she feel the weight of the loss he had endured, the battles he had fought, the betrayal that had shattered him? No one, not even those who had known him from his former life, had ever described him like that.

"You're not wrong," Ye Xian replied, his voice quiet, the bitterness of the past bleeding through. "I've been through much, more than you know. And this... this grey hair, it's not just a color. It's a constant reminder of how far I've fallen."

Xuan Lingshuang's eyes softened, the icy sharpness melting into something more human. She stepped closer, her presence as graceful as ever, but now more grounded, more real. "You're not the only one who has been through trials, Ye Xian. I've had my own burdens to bear. We all have our stories, our struggles, our scars." Her gaze held his for a moment, then she nodded. "But don't let that define you. Your past doesn't have to be your future."

Ye Xian swallowed hard, her words landing in his chest with a weight he hadn't expected. It wasn't the first time he had heard something like that, but coming from her—someone with her own powerful presence, someone he had admired from afar—it made him pause.

He wanted to say more, to explain just how much of a failure he felt like, how deep the emptiness ran in his heart. But instead, he simply chuckled. "Maybe," he muttered. "But it's hard to forget."

The two stood there in silence for a long moment, each lost in their thoughts. Finally, Xuan Lingshuang spoke again, her voice breaking the heavy stillness.

"You know," she said, her tone lighter now, "you're right about one thing. That grey hair is a reminder. But not of failure. It's a sign of something else—a sign that you've endured, that you've overcome. Not everyone gets the chance to come back, to have the will to rise again." She tilted her head, regarding him with a gaze that was less distant, more human. "You may not see it yet, but that grey hair might one day be a symbol of your strength, not your fall."

Ye Xian stared at her, momentarily stunned. He hadn't considered it that way. To him, it had always been a reminder of what he had lost, but the way she phrased it… He felt a spark of something within him, a flicker of hope—something he hadn't felt in a long time.

"Maybe," he said softly, his voice filled with quiet realization. "Maybe you're right."