Lace Glory Universe King GL - Chapter 35

The late spring wind swept through the courtyard of the Yun residence, carrying with it a few pale pink crabapple petals. Yun Ying stood in the vermilion-painted corridor, gazing at the empty guest rooms, feeling a little dazed. With Jing and Ying both absent, the house was quieter—yet lonelier.

Watching the petals fall into the grass, Yun Ying recalled a snowy day—when she was a child, Zhao Huaizhen’s nose was red from the cold, and they were playing in the first snow on the streets of Chang’an with the other neighborhood children.

“Don’t let yourself get too cold, I’ll warm you up.” Zhao Huaizhen was hurling snowballs at her but still took the time to check her little hands.

The white snow reflected his handsome profile; his lashes cast fan-shaped shadows beneath his eyes. He rubbed his hands warm, then wrapped them around hers, breathing hot air over them.

A maid’s voice pulled Yun Ying out of her memory. “This is a letter from the Zhao residence.”

Yun Ying accepted it. The handwriting was long-missed yet familiar:

“To my sister Yun Ying,
It has been long since we played a game. I miss it dearly.
On the fifteenth day at Shen hour, I will await you with tea at the Daoist Library Pavilion of Xuandu Temple.
Yours, Huaizhen.”

The moment she saw Xuandu Temple mentioned, Yun Ying already had a foreboding sense of what was to come.

The ancient bell of Xuandu Temple still echoed faintly as Yun Ying followed a disciple up to the highest level of the Daoist Library Pavilion. All the windows were open, granting her a sweeping view of both the temple grounds and the bustling streets of Chang’an. Evening light slanted through, illuminating the elegant furnishings inside.

Zhao Huaizhen, dressed in a sky-blue robe, was boiling water by the window. When he heard her footsteps, he looked up with a smile—still resembling the youth who once sparred with her yet shielded her from the wind and rain.

“You came.” He poured tea from the kettle.

Yun Ying sat opposite him, her gaze falling on the chessboard—it was an old set, with a chip at the corner from when she had clumsily knocked it years ago. It was Huaizhen who had taught her the patience for the game.

“Even as the temple master, you live so simply,” Yun Ying said as she lifted the teacup and inhaled its fragrance.

“Old habits make time pass slower,” Huaizhen replied after drinking.

Since the disaster of the Primordial Spirit in Chang’an, Huaizhen had lived bound to Xuandu Temple, his yin-yang qi sealing the Two Rites Gate inside him to suppress the poison. It was the price he paid for saving the city—his whole life in confinement.

“How is your health lately?” Yun Ying asked.

He nodded, then countered, “This time, you didn’t call me Brother Huaizhen.”

Silence.

When she did not answer, he picked up a black stone from the jar. “Shall I take black first?”

The chess game unfolded amid the scent of tea. Yun Ying was distracted, her white stones scattered, while Huaizhen played steadily—yet always pulling back at key moments, never pressing too great an advantage.

“Recently, the Dali Temple found bird-men in Chang’an. Have you heard of it?” Yun Ying broke the quiet.

“What bird-men? Could it be the feathered clan from Yunmeng Marsh?” Huaizhen responded calmly.

“The feathered clan has long since perished. It must be someone’s trick. Still, they say the feathers can cure all poisons and prolong life.” Yun Ying set a stone down with a sharp “clack,” raising her eyes to him.

“People say many things. Do you care about their feathers so much?” Huaizhen asked, unruffled.

“Of course. If they really work, maybe they could cure your poison.”

“If you truly wished to save me, why didn’t you risk it while the clan was still alive? Back then you had just joined Dali Temple, busy with new cases, no time for me.” His hands clasped together, voice coldly calm. Both had stopped playing.

“So you took matters into your own hands, didn’t you?”

“Do you have proof?”

“Did the medicine made from phoenix-feather ash work, Brother Huaizhen?” Yun Ying’s voice hardened.

His expression told her everything. Hearing her call him “Brother Huaizhen” again pierced him with pain.

“Did you ever truly care for me, trapped here all these years? Taking feathers shouldn’t have meant killing—why go so far?!”

“Because…” He didn’t meet her gaze, his cold face filled with bitterness. “Only with their blood as a medium would it work.

“They worshipped shamans and fought amongst themselves. Their destruction was inevitable.”

“Lives are still lives! When did you learn to speak of killing so lightly?” Her voice trembled.

“Lightly? A boy gave up his whole life to save the city, and what did he get in return? Praise and titles—aren’t those lighter still?” His voice finally broke with suppressed anger.

“I admit I didn’t do enough back then. But you chose to protect Chang’an yourself. I always saw you as a hero.”

“Hero… hero…” Huaizhen repeated bitterly. “When I was young, I didn’t feel time passing. But as the years dragged on in solitude, I realized what I had lost. Xuandu Temple became my cage, condemning me to die alone. Isn’t that cruel? … I even thought, if you ever found out and came for me—then that would be my fate.”

Yun Ying’s heart clenched at his confession.

Suddenly, Huaizhen seized her hand. “Yun Ying, give me three days—I can prove this formula can save many lives!”

“Three days? What do you plan to do?”

“Not only to cleanse my poison. These feathers can ward off plague and miasma. I am refining the prescription—it could save lives in an epidemic. Trust me. After three days, I’ll be here. Do with me as you wish.” He released her hand, revealing the scar from the day he had sacrificed himself for Chang’an.

The evening bell tolled, its hollow sound steeped in melancholy.

“Fine. I’ll give you three days. But I’ll watch you closely. If you make one wrong move, I won’t spare you.”

He hesitated. “Yun Ying… I still have the paired-bird lantern from the Lantern Festival when we were fifteen.”

“But the red string on it has long broken.” She rose and left without looking back.

By the time she exited Xuandu Temple, night had fallen.

“Who was it that told me not to take risks alone—yet here you are…”

Yun Ying turned. A silver-haired woman in a bamboo hat leaned against the wall—it was Jing.

“The invitation was sudden. No time to call you,” Yun Ying replied.

Jing fell into step behind her, quietly asking about what had happened.

“Let’s find somewhere nearby to talk. Have you any word of Ying?”

Jing shook her head.

Three days later, before the Daoist Library Pavilion.

Once again, the sun was setting.

This time, Zhao Huaizhen stood in the courtyard without chessboard or tea.

“You kept your word,” Yun Ying said, though she had Jing hidden, ready to strike. “If your formula is ready, come to Dali Temple with me.”

“I did promise to let you do as you please today.” Huaizhen’s gaze was hard, all warmth gone. “But only if you have the strength. My poison is gone. You cannot defeat me now.”

“Anyone who tries to trick me doesn’t get to walk away. Strong or not, let’s find out.” Yun Ying raised her crimson-spear, fearless.

“I don’t want to hurt you. Step aside.” His robe billowed though there was no wind, shadows flickering in his eyes.

“Never!”

Black mist coiled between his fingers, shadows solidifying in his palm.

“I have Ying. Don’t force me.” His low voice carried a warning.

Yun Ying twirled her spear, the tip flashing with icy light. “Then I must defeat you.”

In a blur, she lunged—her spear driving for his chest!

Huaizhen’s eyes hardened. He spread his arms wide, qi surging outward—“Taiji: Cloud Hands!”

Invisible currents spun around him, dissolving her assault. The backlash sent Yun Ying skidding backward, palms numb.

“Your spear cannot pierce my qi.” He thrust a palm, black mist surging.

Yun Ying gritted her teeth, fire blazing in her eyes. She twisted her spear, crimson tassel blazing like flame. Gathering her strength to its peak, she roared—“Liao Yuan Bai Zhan!”

Her body blurred into a scarlet afterimage, spear tearing through stone and air alike as she charged!

But Huaizhen only smiled coldly. With his poison gone, his power had grown. Pressing his palms together, he compressed his qi before detonating it outward—“Break!”

The two forces collided in a deafening blast. Yun Ying was hurled back, blood staining her lips.

“…You’ve grown stronger,” she admitted hoarsely.

Huaizhen stood unshaken, cold-eyed. “Step aside. It’s not too late.”

But at that moment—

A streak of silver light ripped the dusk sky, aimed at his back!

Huaizhen twisted aside—the blade grazed his robe and struck the earth. A mirror-forged blade.

“Bullying a girl doesn’t suit you.” A cool voice rang out as Jing emerged, her tall figure gleaming with icy light.

The wind sharpened.

Yun Ying knew her cue—Jing’s Rifted Void: Seeing Shadows had never failed.

“Two against one. You’ll have to excuse us,” Jing smirked, vanishing into motion.

Her blade curved unpredictably, the ground beneath Huaizhen warping like rippling water—

“Kai Feng!”

Space collapsed. Huaizhen froze, bound by invisible force!

“Now!” Yun Ying cried, spear blazing with comet-like fury. She leapt, her strike crashing down like a falling star.

At the last instant, Huaizhen roared, bursting free of the spatial bind. Qi surged, diverting her spear so it only carved a bloody gash across his shoulder.

Before he could recover, Jing’s laughter whispered all around.

“Not over yet.”

Her mirror realm unfolded, glassy light engulfing the battlefield. Illusory doubles sliced in from every angle, blades weaving a deadly net.

Huaizhen’s qi shield strained, but steel still drew blood. Then Yun Ying’s second strike slammed down, nearly driving him to his knees. He gathered his qi to counter—

“Don’t get too close,” Jing warned her, before flickering into shadows again. Blades crossed, sealing every escape.

“It’s over.” Her voice was final.

The mirror-blade hummed as it closed in. Blood sprayed. Zhao Huaizhen fell to his knees at last. The tip of Yun Ying’s crimson spear dripped a bead of blood—falling silent onto the ground.

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