Chapter 24: Dust Settles in the Jianghu, A Dream Returns to the Mortal Realm
Green Face dropped the grey iron mask onto the cyan bricks. The metal struck the ground with a dull clang. The mask rolled a few times before coming to a stop beside the withered remnants of a lotus stem. That scarred face was now exposed to the daylight, the marks left by time and endless battles crisscrossing his skin.
"I promise to write a complete confession." Green Face slowly released his grip on the Ghost Thread soft sword. The blade drooped, its tip touching the dust. "The confession will detail the secret orders from the high-ranking official in the imperial court back then, the complete list of everyone involved in the Su family massacre, and my entire process of hiding Su Nianwan and covering up the evidence over the past twenty years. This confession, along with the mulberry paper roster in Chen Yi's possession, will be sent to Shaolin, Wudang, the Beggar Sect, and the local government authorities."
The courtyard fell into a dead silence. The black-clad assassins exchanged bewildered glances. Having followed Green Face for many years, they had only seen the face beneath the mask a few times. Hearing their leader personally promise to hand over all evidence of his crimes, many faces showed signs of panic and confusion.
"Leader!" A leading assassin stepped forward half a pace, whispering to dissuade him. "Once the confession is sent out, that noble in the court will definitely strike ruthlessly. None of us will escape the pursuit!"
Green Face turned his head to look at this subordinate, his expression calm. "When I stepped into the Dark Arena back then, I had long foreseen this end. For twenty years, I was like a tool, driven by others to hide a blood case. The day a tool loses its usefulness, it will inevitably be destroyed. Rather than continuing to cover up the crimes of those above and living in perpetual unrest, it is better to lay everything bare."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the assassins. "I will bear the sole responsibility for this matter. If any of you wish to leave, you may do so now. Hide your names and identities forever, and do not get entangled in this storm again. Those who choose to stay will accompany me to the government office to turn ourselves in once the confession is written."
A ripple of unrest spread through the assassin ranks. A moment later, the majority silently sheathed their blades, turned, and walked through the dilapidated courtyard gate of the old estate, disappearing into the forest. Only a handful chose to remain, awaiting further arrangements.
Su Nianwan stood beside Chen Yi, looking down at him kneeling on the ground, bathed in blood. Her voice was soft and gentle, "Green Face, I will not resent you for raising me for these twenty years. But the sins you've committed must ultimately be borne. I will stand with you to testify and speak everything I know."
Leaning against Xiao Ge's shoulder, Chen Yi let out a long, turbid breath. The heavy burden that had weighed on his heart for twenty years was finally lifted. His wounds continued to throb with pain, and waves of dizziness from blood loss washed over him, yet his eyes held a sense of relief unseen for many years.
"Thank you, Nianwan," Chen Yi said weakly. "What I have sought all my life was never to force you to bear hatred. I only hoped that this truth would not be permanently buried in these desolate mountains and wild ridges."
Leaning against the broken wall, Lin Yan quietly watched the scene of the dust settling in the courtyard. The wounds on his waist and shoulder still ached, and the lingering Ghost Thread poison in his body was still slowly eroding his flesh. But the intuition in his heart, which maintained the entanglement of the dimensional mission, was gradually retracting and becoming gentle. Chen Yi's obsession had been resolved.
For the next three days, everyone stayed in the Su family's old estate to handle the aftermath. Green Face shut himself in the study, writing a lengthy confession word by word, unreservedly recording the court conspiracy back then and the complete sequence of events of the Su family massacre on the paper scrolls. Su Nianwan, by his side, also wrote down everything she had seen and heard from childhood to adulthood as corroborating evidence.
Chen Yi's injuries were too severe, and he spent most of his time in a coma. Xiao Ge took care of him day and night, gathering herbs, washing and bandaging his wounds, doing his best to stabilize his condition. Taking advantage of these few days of rest, Lin Yan also used the remaining herbs to suppress the lingering poison in his body, and his wounds slowly began to scab.
Three days later, four sets of documents—the original roster in Chen Yi's hands, the three copies prepared years ago, Green Face's handwritten confession, and Su Nianwan's testimony—were all properly sealed. Reliable messengers were arranged to depart separately, delivering them to Shaolin, Wudang, the Beggar Sect, and the local prefectural office at the foot of the mountain.
On the day the messengers departed, a thin mist rose in the mountains at dawn.
Standing at the gate of the old estate, Chen Yi watched the messengers' figures disappear at the end of the mountain path, letting out a long sigh of relief. The wind brushed against his blood-stained and faded clothes. The shackles that had weighed on his shoulders for twenty years were completely removed at this moment.
"They've all been sent out," Chen Yi said in a low voice.
"Yes," Xiao Ge stood beside him, a smile on his face, though his eyes were slightly red. "The wish of twenty years has finally been fulfilled."
Su Nianwan stood nearby, gazing at the continuous mountains in the distance. "From now on, I plan to stay in these mountains and fields. The Su family's old estate has been abandoned for too long. I want to stay and tend to it, guarding this courtyard. I no longer need to get involved in Jianghu disputes; I will live out my days in peace."
Green Face had already set off for the prefectural office to turn himself in, accompanied by the few subordinates who had stayed behind. Before leaving, he bid farewell to Su Nianwan privately. There were no excessive words, only a simple "take care." He knew that legal judgment awaited him.
Lin Yan stepped forward to say goodbye to Chen Yi and Xiao Ge.
"Chen Yi, congratulations on your wish being fulfilled," Lin Yan said.
Chen Yi turned to look at Lin Yan, a hint of vague curiosity in his gaze. Over these past few days, he had vaguely sensed the anomaly in Lin Yan, knowing that Lin Yan was not a person of this world, yet he had never asked about his origins.
"Lin Yan, thank you. Without you, this old case would have hardly reached today," Chen Yi said slowly. "I don't know where you came from, or where you are going in the future. But I will forever keep this experience of traveling the Jianghu together in my heart."
Xiao Ge nodded vigorously. "Brother Lin, will we see each other again in the future?"
Lin Yan shook his head slightly, a trace of wistfulness in his heart. "Probably not. I need to return to my own world. You two must live well."
Although Xiao Ge didn't understand, he didn't ask any more questions. He simply gripped his short dagger solemnly. "No matter where you are, take care. If there are storms in the Jianghu in the future, I will guard this corner of the world."
Su Nianwan nodded gently toward Lin Yan. "Safe travels."
Lin Yan took one last look at the abandoned Su family old estate, which had finally welcomed the revelation of the truth. He looked at the withered lotus pond in the courtyard, and at the people before him whom he had met amidst slaughter and strategy.
There were no earth-shattering anomalies, no dazzling ceremonies.
A gentle yet irresistible force enveloped him from the void. His vision slowly began to blur. The voices of the people around him, the sound of the wind, faded bit by bit. The courtyard, the plants, the figures were as if covered by a thin mist, slowly melting away.
The last thing left in his ears was the rustling sound of the wind blowing through the leaves in the mountains.
Consciousness sank.
The next second.
Lin Yan abruptly opened his eyes.
Dazzling white light drilled through the gap in the curtains of the rental apartment, falling onto the headboard. The familiar ceiling, the scattered takeout boxes on the desk, the phone resting quietly by the pillow.
He was lying on his own single bed.
It was the real world.
Instinctively, he raised his hand to touch his waist and shoulder. The blade wounds he had suffered in the martial arts plane were gone. His skin was intact, without a single scar, and there was no trace of the Ghost Thread sword's poison in his body. All the pain endured in another plane had been left behind in that Jianghu.
He sat up, panting heavily, his heart pounding in his chest.
His memories were incredibly clear. The slaughter at the Boulder Valley, the standoff at the Su family's old estate, Green Face removing his mask, the settling of Chen Yi's twenty-year obsession, Su Nianwan's ultimate choice to face the truth. All the scenes, the dialogues, the scent of blood, the mountain wind—they were all vividly present, absolutely not an ordinary dream.
Lin Yan instinctively raised his hand, trying to mimic the dagger parrying and force-deflecting moves he had learned in the Jianghu.
The concepts of the moves and the methods of exerting force were clearly imprinted in his mind, not forgotten in the slightest. But when he actually moved his arm, he immediately noticed a massive disparity: the techniques were still there, but the physical body of this real world lacked the strength, stamina, and reaction speed to keep up.
It was like having mastered the boxing manual of a grandmaster, but one's own physical fitness was too poor to unleash the power of the moves. The abilities to tank hits with raw flesh and dodge rapidly in the other world were completely useless in this rental apartment.
He walked to the window and pulled back the curtains. The morning sunlight hit him head-on.
A thousand miles away, deep in the mountains, life at the Su family's old estate continued to move forward.
Chen Yi stayed in the Jianghu, assisting the government and the sects in sorting out the personnel involved back then and wiping out the remnants of the Dark Arena; Xiao Ge walked the world with a sword, upholding the justice in his heart; Su Nianwan stayed in the courtyard of the old estate, watching the grass sprout in spring and the falling leaves in autumn; Green Face quietly awaited his sentence in prison, and the high-ranking official in the imperial court, along with the confession and the roster being made public, was about to be dragged into a massive storm.
Lin Yan picked up his phone, his fingertips gently stroking the screen. He checked the time. Damn, I slept in. I'm going to be late.
The digital clock on the punch-in machine flashed the numbers 9:10. The red "Late" record glared sharply on the screen.
Panting heavily, Lin Yan quickly swiped his card and rushed into the office area, the heat of his frantic run still clinging to his shoulders. Just moments ago, while rushing up the subway stairs, someone had come running toward him. Instinctively, Lin Yan had shifted his body to the side, sinking his shoulder slightly to deflect the momentum and avoid a collision.
It was the exact instinctive posture he had used countless times in the Boulder Valley to dodge incoming blades.
After making the move, he was briefly stunned himself.
He lowered his gaze to look at his own hands. His knuckles were clean and slender, bearing the unmistakable marks of someone who spent years typing at a keyboard. Yet, in his mind, he could clearly remember the tactile sensation of gripping a short dagger, and the flow of energy through his meridians when striking, thrusting, and parrying.
The techniques, the mental cultivation methods, the minute details of life-and-death combat—all of it was etched into his brain.
Only this body remained weak and sluggish, entirely incapable of supporting even a fraction of that Jianghu spirit.
"Lin Yan, is yesterday's report finished? The supervisor was just asking about it," a colleague at the adjacent desk prompted, looking up.
Suppressing the chaotic thoughts swirling in his heart, Lin Yan nodded and replied, "Right away, just wrapping it up."
He sat down, booted up his computer, and stared at the screen filled with dense,密密麻麻 (密密麻麻) Excel spreadsheets.
The flashing blades, the withered lotus pond courtyard, and the twenty-year-old grievance from the previous day still seemed to dance vividly before his eyes. But in the next second, they were completely buried under the cold, trivial work data.
No one knew that this ordinary, inconspicuous office worker had just retreated unscathed from a life-and-death Jianghu.
At lunchtime, the break room was filled with a haze of steam.
While Lin Yan was getting hot water, he bumped into Su Xiao. She was holding a freshly poured cup of hot coffee, and her steps faltered. The scalding liquid was on the verge of spilling over the rim.
Almost on pure instinct, Lin Yan reached out and firmly steadied the cup, shifting his body to absorb the momentum. The movement was crisp and clean.
The coffee settled safely back into the cup, not a single drop spilled.
"Thank you," Su Xiao said, raising her eyes. Her expression was gentle and clear, tinged with lingering fear. "I almost burned myself."
"It's fine," Lin Yan replied, withdrawing his hand as his fingertips curled slightly inward.
It was that same bone-deep reflex for avoiding danger. In the Jianghu, it was a matter of survival; in the office building, it was merely helping someone prevent a spilled cup of coffee.
The two naturally chatted for a moment, agreeing to order takeout together for lunch, the atmosphere relaxed and natural.
After work, the city shed its hustle and bustle, and the evening breeze was gentle.
Instead of rushing back to his rental apartment to collapse, Lin Yan took a leisurely stroll around the neighborhood. By chance, he ran into Su Xiao, who was returning home with a bag of fruit. The two walked side by side in comfortable silence, the branches of the street trees rustling softly as the streetlights stretched their shadows long across the pavement.
After a moment of quiet, Lin Yan suddenly spoke, his voice very soft.
"I had a really, really long dream before. It was like an entire novel."
Su Xiao turned her head to look at him, curiosity in her eyes. "Oh? What kind of dream?"
Slowing his pace, Lin Yan gradually began to recount that "dream."
He spoke of the chaotic Jianghu, of the family massacre buried for twenty years, of the obsession of guarding the roster, of the slaughter in the Boulder Valley, the wind and rain at the Su family's old estate, and the standoff by the withered lotus pond. He described in exquisite detail the agonizing pain of a blade cutting into flesh, the crisp coldness of the mountain wind piercing through the forest, and the stubborn persistence of those people who had weathered a lifetime of ups and downs just to seek the truth.
He packaged his genuine journey through an alternate world as a lengthy, heavy, and incredibly realistic dream. He hid only the most fatal truth—that this was never a dream. Those who failed would be trapped and die in a foreign land forever.
Su Xiao listened quietly, then let out a soft sigh, her eyes full of empathy. "That dream sounds so heavy, and the people in it suffered so much. Have you been working too much overtime lately? Are you under too much pressure?"
Lin Yan smiled faintly and nodded gently. "Perhaps. It was so real that I can't forget it now. I even remember exactly how to exert force for those parrying moves I learned in the dream."
"Then show me?" Su Xiao asked curiously.
Lin Yan raised his hand and casually executed a basic force-deflecting stance. The framework was standard and the form was neat, but his arm was soft and lacked strength. It was all form and no power.
"I remember the concepts perfectly, but my body can't keep up," Lin Yan said, putting his hand down with a candid smile. "So, I've been planning to exercise more recently."
"That's great. Working out is always good for relieving stress," Su Xiao nodded, her eyes full of approval.
In the blink of an eye, a week passed.
It was another evening with a cool breeze, and as usual, the two were taking a walk to digest their dinner. Su Xiao suddenly remembered their previous conversation and teased with a smile, "By the way, is there a sequel to your Jianghu dream?"
Lin Yan spread his hands, his tone relaxed and casual. "You think it's a TV series?"
Su Xiao couldn't help but laugh out loud. "Fair enough. TV series have sequels, but good or bad dreams are mostly one-offs."
Lin Yan chuckled softly along with her. He turned his face, looking at the girl beside him with warmth.
The evening breeze gently lifted the stray strands of hair on her forehead, and the warm glow of the streetlights draped softly over her cheeks, softening her features. A faint smile rested on her lips, her eyes pure and clean, like the evening breeze brushing past her ear—steady and comforting.
Lin Yan watched quietly, saying nothing.
The Jianghu mountains and rivers in his heart, once soaked in the gleam of blades and covered in wind and snow, quietly retreated to the deepest corners at this very moment.
The warmth of mortal life, the gentleness of everyday moments—perhaps this was exactly what it was.
The two chatted about trivial daily matters, sharing funny stories from the company and the scenic mountain wilderness on the outskirts of the city. The atmosphere was relaxed and pleasant.
Lin Yan felt a rare sense of peace in his heart.
Only he knew whether this grand Jianghu dream that had reached its curtain call was truly an ending, or merely a temporary pause.
"I promise to write a complete confession." Green Face slowly released his grip on the Ghost Thread soft sword. The blade drooped, its tip touching the dust. "The confession will detail the secret orders from the high-ranking official in the imperial court back then, the complete list of everyone involved in the Su family massacre, and my entire process of hiding Su Nianwan and covering up the evidence over the past twenty years. This confession, along with the mulberry paper roster in Chen Yi's possession, will be sent to Shaolin, Wudang, the Beggar Sect, and the local government authorities."
The courtyard fell into a dead silence. The black-clad assassins exchanged bewildered glances. Having followed Green Face for many years, they had only seen the face beneath the mask a few times. Hearing their leader personally promise to hand over all evidence of his crimes, many faces showed signs of panic and confusion.
"Leader!" A leading assassin stepped forward half a pace, whispering to dissuade him. "Once the confession is sent out, that noble in the court will definitely strike ruthlessly. None of us will escape the pursuit!"
Green Face turned his head to look at this subordinate, his expression calm. "When I stepped into the Dark Arena back then, I had long foreseen this end. For twenty years, I was like a tool, driven by others to hide a blood case. The day a tool loses its usefulness, it will inevitably be destroyed. Rather than continuing to cover up the crimes of those above and living in perpetual unrest, it is better to lay everything bare."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the assassins. "I will bear the sole responsibility for this matter. If any of you wish to leave, you may do so now. Hide your names and identities forever, and do not get entangled in this storm again. Those who choose to stay will accompany me to the government office to turn ourselves in once the confession is written."
A ripple of unrest spread through the assassin ranks. A moment later, the majority silently sheathed their blades, turned, and walked through the dilapidated courtyard gate of the old estate, disappearing into the forest. Only a handful chose to remain, awaiting further arrangements.
Su Nianwan stood beside Chen Yi, looking down at him kneeling on the ground, bathed in blood. Her voice was soft and gentle, "Green Face, I will not resent you for raising me for these twenty years. But the sins you've committed must ultimately be borne. I will stand with you to testify and speak everything I know."
Leaning against Xiao Ge's shoulder, Chen Yi let out a long, turbid breath. The heavy burden that had weighed on his heart for twenty years was finally lifted. His wounds continued to throb with pain, and waves of dizziness from blood loss washed over him, yet his eyes held a sense of relief unseen for many years.
"Thank you, Nianwan," Chen Yi said weakly. "What I have sought all my life was never to force you to bear hatred. I only hoped that this truth would not be permanently buried in these desolate mountains and wild ridges."
Leaning against the broken wall, Lin Yan quietly watched the scene of the dust settling in the courtyard. The wounds on his waist and shoulder still ached, and the lingering Ghost Thread poison in his body was still slowly eroding his flesh. But the intuition in his heart, which maintained the entanglement of the dimensional mission, was gradually retracting and becoming gentle. Chen Yi's obsession had been resolved.
For the next three days, everyone stayed in the Su family's old estate to handle the aftermath. Green Face shut himself in the study, writing a lengthy confession word by word, unreservedly recording the court conspiracy back then and the complete sequence of events of the Su family massacre on the paper scrolls. Su Nianwan, by his side, also wrote down everything she had seen and heard from childhood to adulthood as corroborating evidence.
Chen Yi's injuries were too severe, and he spent most of his time in a coma. Xiao Ge took care of him day and night, gathering herbs, washing and bandaging his wounds, doing his best to stabilize his condition. Taking advantage of these few days of rest, Lin Yan also used the remaining herbs to suppress the lingering poison in his body, and his wounds slowly began to scab.
Three days later, four sets of documents—the original roster in Chen Yi's hands, the three copies prepared years ago, Green Face's handwritten confession, and Su Nianwan's testimony—were all properly sealed. Reliable messengers were arranged to depart separately, delivering them to Shaolin, Wudang, the Beggar Sect, and the local prefectural office at the foot of the mountain.
On the day the messengers departed, a thin mist rose in the mountains at dawn.
Standing at the gate of the old estate, Chen Yi watched the messengers' figures disappear at the end of the mountain path, letting out a long sigh of relief. The wind brushed against his blood-stained and faded clothes. The shackles that had weighed on his shoulders for twenty years were completely removed at this moment.
"They've all been sent out," Chen Yi said in a low voice.
"Yes," Xiao Ge stood beside him, a smile on his face, though his eyes were slightly red. "The wish of twenty years has finally been fulfilled."
Su Nianwan stood nearby, gazing at the continuous mountains in the distance. "From now on, I plan to stay in these mountains and fields. The Su family's old estate has been abandoned for too long. I want to stay and tend to it, guarding this courtyard. I no longer need to get involved in Jianghu disputes; I will live out my days in peace."
Green Face had already set off for the prefectural office to turn himself in, accompanied by the few subordinates who had stayed behind. Before leaving, he bid farewell to Su Nianwan privately. There were no excessive words, only a simple "take care." He knew that legal judgment awaited him.
Lin Yan stepped forward to say goodbye to Chen Yi and Xiao Ge.
"Chen Yi, congratulations on your wish being fulfilled," Lin Yan said.
Chen Yi turned to look at Lin Yan, a hint of vague curiosity in his gaze. Over these past few days, he had vaguely sensed the anomaly in Lin Yan, knowing that Lin Yan was not a person of this world, yet he had never asked about his origins.
"Lin Yan, thank you. Without you, this old case would have hardly reached today," Chen Yi said slowly. "I don't know where you came from, or where you are going in the future. But I will forever keep this experience of traveling the Jianghu together in my heart."
Xiao Ge nodded vigorously. "Brother Lin, will we see each other again in the future?"
Lin Yan shook his head slightly, a trace of wistfulness in his heart. "Probably not. I need to return to my own world. You two must live well."
Although Xiao Ge didn't understand, he didn't ask any more questions. He simply gripped his short dagger solemnly. "No matter where you are, take care. If there are storms in the Jianghu in the future, I will guard this corner of the world."
Su Nianwan nodded gently toward Lin Yan. "Safe travels."
Lin Yan took one last look at the abandoned Su family old estate, which had finally welcomed the revelation of the truth. He looked at the withered lotus pond in the courtyard, and at the people before him whom he had met amidst slaughter and strategy.
There were no earth-shattering anomalies, no dazzling ceremonies.
A gentle yet irresistible force enveloped him from the void. His vision slowly began to blur. The voices of the people around him, the sound of the wind, faded bit by bit. The courtyard, the plants, the figures were as if covered by a thin mist, slowly melting away.
The last thing left in his ears was the rustling sound of the wind blowing through the leaves in the mountains.
Consciousness sank.
The next second.
Lin Yan abruptly opened his eyes.
Dazzling white light drilled through the gap in the curtains of the rental apartment, falling onto the headboard. The familiar ceiling, the scattered takeout boxes on the desk, the phone resting quietly by the pillow.
He was lying on his own single bed.
It was the real world.
Instinctively, he raised his hand to touch his waist and shoulder. The blade wounds he had suffered in the martial arts plane were gone. His skin was intact, without a single scar, and there was no trace of the Ghost Thread sword's poison in his body. All the pain endured in another plane had been left behind in that Jianghu.
He sat up, panting heavily, his heart pounding in his chest.
His memories were incredibly clear. The slaughter at the Boulder Valley, the standoff at the Su family's old estate, Green Face removing his mask, the settling of Chen Yi's twenty-year obsession, Su Nianwan's ultimate choice to face the truth. All the scenes, the dialogues, the scent of blood, the mountain wind—they were all vividly present, absolutely not an ordinary dream.
Lin Yan instinctively raised his hand, trying to mimic the dagger parrying and force-deflecting moves he had learned in the Jianghu.
The concepts of the moves and the methods of exerting force were clearly imprinted in his mind, not forgotten in the slightest. But when he actually moved his arm, he immediately noticed a massive disparity: the techniques were still there, but the physical body of this real world lacked the strength, stamina, and reaction speed to keep up.
It was like having mastered the boxing manual of a grandmaster, but one's own physical fitness was too poor to unleash the power of the moves. The abilities to tank hits with raw flesh and dodge rapidly in the other world were completely useless in this rental apartment.
He walked to the window and pulled back the curtains. The morning sunlight hit him head-on.
A thousand miles away, deep in the mountains, life at the Su family's old estate continued to move forward.
Chen Yi stayed in the Jianghu, assisting the government and the sects in sorting out the personnel involved back then and wiping out the remnants of the Dark Arena; Xiao Ge walked the world with a sword, upholding the justice in his heart; Su Nianwan stayed in the courtyard of the old estate, watching the grass sprout in spring and the falling leaves in autumn; Green Face quietly awaited his sentence in prison, and the high-ranking official in the imperial court, along with the confession and the roster being made public, was about to be dragged into a massive storm.
Lin Yan picked up his phone, his fingertips gently stroking the screen. He checked the time. Damn, I slept in. I'm going to be late.
The digital clock on the punch-in machine flashed the numbers 9:10. The red "Late" record glared sharply on the screen.
Panting heavily, Lin Yan quickly swiped his card and rushed into the office area, the heat of his frantic run still clinging to his shoulders. Just moments ago, while rushing up the subway stairs, someone had come running toward him. Instinctively, Lin Yan had shifted his body to the side, sinking his shoulder slightly to deflect the momentum and avoid a collision.
It was the exact instinctive posture he had used countless times in the Boulder Valley to dodge incoming blades.
After making the move, he was briefly stunned himself.
He lowered his gaze to look at his own hands. His knuckles were clean and slender, bearing the unmistakable marks of someone who spent years typing at a keyboard. Yet, in his mind, he could clearly remember the tactile sensation of gripping a short dagger, and the flow of energy through his meridians when striking, thrusting, and parrying.
The techniques, the mental cultivation methods, the minute details of life-and-death combat—all of it was etched into his brain.
Only this body remained weak and sluggish, entirely incapable of supporting even a fraction of that Jianghu spirit.
"Lin Yan, is yesterday's report finished? The supervisor was just asking about it," a colleague at the adjacent desk prompted, looking up.
Suppressing the chaotic thoughts swirling in his heart, Lin Yan nodded and replied, "Right away, just wrapping it up."
He sat down, booted up his computer, and stared at the screen filled with dense,密密麻麻 (密密麻麻) Excel spreadsheets.
The flashing blades, the withered lotus pond courtyard, and the twenty-year-old grievance from the previous day still seemed to dance vividly before his eyes. But in the next second, they were completely buried under the cold, trivial work data.
No one knew that this ordinary, inconspicuous office worker had just retreated unscathed from a life-and-death Jianghu.
At lunchtime, the break room was filled with a haze of steam.
While Lin Yan was getting hot water, he bumped into Su Xiao. She was holding a freshly poured cup of hot coffee, and her steps faltered. The scalding liquid was on the verge of spilling over the rim.
Almost on pure instinct, Lin Yan reached out and firmly steadied the cup, shifting his body to absorb the momentum. The movement was crisp and clean.
The coffee settled safely back into the cup, not a single drop spilled.
"Thank you," Su Xiao said, raising her eyes. Her expression was gentle and clear, tinged with lingering fear. "I almost burned myself."
"It's fine," Lin Yan replied, withdrawing his hand as his fingertips curled slightly inward.
It was that same bone-deep reflex for avoiding danger. In the Jianghu, it was a matter of survival; in the office building, it was merely helping someone prevent a spilled cup of coffee.
The two naturally chatted for a moment, agreeing to order takeout together for lunch, the atmosphere relaxed and natural.
After work, the city shed its hustle and bustle, and the evening breeze was gentle.
Instead of rushing back to his rental apartment to collapse, Lin Yan took a leisurely stroll around the neighborhood. By chance, he ran into Su Xiao, who was returning home with a bag of fruit. The two walked side by side in comfortable silence, the branches of the street trees rustling softly as the streetlights stretched their shadows long across the pavement.
After a moment of quiet, Lin Yan suddenly spoke, his voice very soft.
"I had a really, really long dream before. It was like an entire novel."
Su Xiao turned her head to look at him, curiosity in her eyes. "Oh? What kind of dream?"
Slowing his pace, Lin Yan gradually began to recount that "dream."
He spoke of the chaotic Jianghu, of the family massacre buried for twenty years, of the obsession of guarding the roster, of the slaughter in the Boulder Valley, the wind and rain at the Su family's old estate, and the standoff by the withered lotus pond. He described in exquisite detail the agonizing pain of a blade cutting into flesh, the crisp coldness of the mountain wind piercing through the forest, and the stubborn persistence of those people who had weathered a lifetime of ups and downs just to seek the truth.
He packaged his genuine journey through an alternate world as a lengthy, heavy, and incredibly realistic dream. He hid only the most fatal truth—that this was never a dream. Those who failed would be trapped and die in a foreign land forever.
Su Xiao listened quietly, then let out a soft sigh, her eyes full of empathy. "That dream sounds so heavy, and the people in it suffered so much. Have you been working too much overtime lately? Are you under too much pressure?"
Lin Yan smiled faintly and nodded gently. "Perhaps. It was so real that I can't forget it now. I even remember exactly how to exert force for those parrying moves I learned in the dream."
"Then show me?" Su Xiao asked curiously.
Lin Yan raised his hand and casually executed a basic force-deflecting stance. The framework was standard and the form was neat, but his arm was soft and lacked strength. It was all form and no power.
"I remember the concepts perfectly, but my body can't keep up," Lin Yan said, putting his hand down with a candid smile. "So, I've been planning to exercise more recently."
"That's great. Working out is always good for relieving stress," Su Xiao nodded, her eyes full of approval.
In the blink of an eye, a week passed.
It was another evening with a cool breeze, and as usual, the two were taking a walk to digest their dinner. Su Xiao suddenly remembered their previous conversation and teased with a smile, "By the way, is there a sequel to your Jianghu dream?"
Lin Yan spread his hands, his tone relaxed and casual. "You think it's a TV series?"
Su Xiao couldn't help but laugh out loud. "Fair enough. TV series have sequels, but good or bad dreams are mostly one-offs."
Lin Yan chuckled softly along with her. He turned his face, looking at the girl beside him with warmth.
The evening breeze gently lifted the stray strands of hair on her forehead, and the warm glow of the streetlights draped softly over her cheeks, softening her features. A faint smile rested on her lips, her eyes pure and clean, like the evening breeze brushing past her ear—steady and comforting.
Lin Yan watched quietly, saying nothing.
The Jianghu mountains and rivers in his heart, once soaked in the gleam of blades and covered in wind and snow, quietly retreated to the deepest corners at this very moment.
The warmth of mortal life, the gentleness of everyday moments—perhaps this was exactly what it was.
The two chatted about trivial daily matters, sharing funny stories from the company and the scenic mountain wilderness on the outskirts of the city. The atmosphere was relaxed and pleasant.
Lin Yan felt a rare sense of peace in his heart.
Only he knew whether this grand Jianghu dream that had reached its curtain call was truly an ending, or merely a temporary pause.