It had been snowing on the eighth of the lunar new year.

A serving girl, Fu Hua, held a basket in hand. She wasn't tall, and in her simple cotton dress, stepped lightly on the winding mountain path. 

The snow intensified briskly. It veiled the landscape in a sweeping white, and upon the broken branches littered in decay, a thick blanket of snow laid. The road was precarious; her footsteps were careful, as if slowed by the heavy snowfall, though if one were to look closely, they would have found her footprints perfectly equidistant— not an inch farther, not a hair's breadth closer.

There was no sign of life in the blank stillness but the silent rustle of snowflakes flitting to the ground. Time passed indeterminably. Fu Hua, expressionless, drew a wisp of white from her breath, and smiled faintly. Quickening her pace, she wound around a lofty evergreen, as the vast figure of a summer house came into view.

The house stood upon the precipice of a cliff, a perfect contrast between the twisted evergreen at its side. Its two stories were surrounded tightly by bamboo drapes. The drapes, ordinary at first sight, hid a device that would shield the house from the cold in no matter how heavy a snowstorm.

Fu Hua walked to the front of the house, and with delight steeping from each step, brushed aside the curtains. "Young master…" she called, though as the words left her lips she found that the house was empty. Her smile morphed into one of exasperation and worry. Stiffly, she placed the basket onto the floor and turned towards the mountain at the back.

Indignant, she took towards the path further up the hill, to a boulder set halfway up the mountain, where she found the person she had set out to find.

He held his back against her, the fox furs upon his shoulders a heap of pristine white as he stared intently into the distance, unaware of the presence behind him. His long, black hair was held only by a hairstick etched with laburnums, and even so several stray strands touched lightly by his ear, swaying along to the wind.

A thin layer of snow had gathered on his head and shoulders, as though he would melt into the snowscape at moment's notice, swallowed into its silvery embrace.

Fu Hua furrowed her brows, and called gently. "Young master."

The youth turned his head, revealing a face full of quiet strength. His lips were thin and his nose fine, though in the blackness of his eyes arose a pale hue in which if looked upon briefly, gave a sense of nothingness in his vacant stare. His lips had started to bruise from the cold, and into a faded purple that, though not unpleasant, made it seem as if he were on the verge of disappearing as ink does in water.

"Young master!" Fu Hua felt a rush of annoyance at the man's indifference and without much thought, stepped towards him. "How long have you been out here? What would I have done if you'd frozen to death?"

He had originally been siting on the boulder. Upon hearing her admonishment, guilt flitted through his expression and he quickly stood up from his perch, brushing the snowflakes off his robes. Softly, he spoke. "The house had been too stifling. I went to take a breather."

"Young master!!!" Fu Hua had a number of things to say in mind, but swallowed them on the tip of her tongue. In seeing his stature, she berated him in a few succinct words, urging her master to return to the house.

The man responded, but did not move. Blinking his faded eyes, he said innocently. "Fu Hua, I found something intriguing."

"What is it?"

"Come and look."

Fu Hua pursed her lips, but went to her master's side nevertheless and looked towards the direction he was pointing. All she saw was a single flaxen flower blooming forlornly on the snow-laden boulder, shivering frailly in the wind as it threatened to be uprooted by the next bitter breeze.

"How did it bloom here?" Fu Hua ruminated. "It's deep in winter, after all…"

"Curious, isn't it?" The man smiled. "That's how I stood for so long. Come on, let's not dally in the cold." As he spoke, he caressed the flower fondly, smoothing his fingertips over its petals in a single, tender motion.

Fu Hua saw her master's actions, knitted her brows together instinctively, but did not talk and instead herded him back to the summer house.

Unbeknownst to them, as the flower remained trembling in the winter gale, a breath of jianqi* swept across its stem, and it crumbled to nothing but dust in the biting wind.

*lit. sword's breath. Refers to the energy, or ch'i of swords.

The man walked slowly back to the house, and upon drawing aside the curtains, felt a bout of warmth douse his skin. At the center of the room were several pots of charcoal toasting the air, though in the dry heat the man began to bend over to cough uncontrollably. His pale cheeks took on an unnatural scarlet. Fu Hua furrowed her brows again in worry.

"Young master." she said hurriedly. "I've prepared some pear-water for you— it'll help with the coughing. I had Yu Rui buy the pears yesterday, they're fresh from the market. Come now, while it's hot."

Her master waved her away. "Later." He sat on the recliner, placed his furs aside, and rested his head on his arm while he watched the snowscape from the slits between the drapes. Despite the gaps between the bamboo, no wind blew into the room, as if a mysterious force had parted the interior from the outside.

"Young master." Fu Hua said softly. "You should eat." She bit her lower lip, expression filled with concern. "You haven't eaten all day."

Her master gave no reply. "Has the sword arts exhibition begun?"

"It has." Fu Hua answered lowly. "As the second young master told us, if you are, perchance, interested…"

"I won't go." Her master said. "As for now, we sup."

Stifling an eager yelp, she hastily removed the food from the basket and laid them in front of her master, talking distractedly as she did. "The cherry blossoms below the mountain have all blossomed, though the vendor selling candied hawthorns hasn't opened for days. I'd meant for Yu Rui to buy a handful for the young master, since it's the young master's favorite after all, the steamed rice cakes from the Chens too… as for the young master… young master…." As she spoke, she realized that her master had already stilled his hand. His head tilted slightly to the side as his breathing slowed. His eyes were closed.

Fu Hua opened her mouth as if to say something and closed it. She did not attempt to rouse her master. The fragrant smell of cooked food still rose from the table. The charcoals crackled occasionally to break the silence. She stared at the man in front of her and suppressed the dull ache that heaved from her chest. 

The Kunlun Mountains, from which whose jade was sought after by folk around the world, but which whose name could not ring any louder than the swordsmen upon surnamed Lin. 

Among the many who cultivate in pursuit of immortality, the elites had been few and far between. Yet within Kunlun Shan, those surnamed Lin had been able to produce elites far beyond mortal comprehension, generation upon generation, millennia upon millennia.

Fu Hua's master had been the youngest son among the Lin clan, named Lin Rufei. The skies itself bestowed him a sign the day he was born, as a deluge of birds flooded the mountains in the evening blaze, and the dying light of sunset took the form of a phoenix that circled Kunlun Shan till it dissipated at dusk.

As thus, he was named Lin Rufei,* by the high hopes the Lin clan had for their newborn child.

*Rufei, meaning 'like jade'

Fei, jadeite— the king, the rarest of all jade. They had hoped that their child would gleam as bright as the most resplendent of stones on Kunlun.

And yet, fate did not turn out this way.

The year he turned three, Lin Rufei had been confirmed by the family head that he would never be able to wield a sword. His body was frailer than most; he took his first step at two, spoke his first words at three. With aptitude of this quality, he had been branded as a useless, talentless fool.

Lin Rufei slept shallowly. He'd tilted his head to the side, and with an absent nod, drew himself from slumber. In his bleary haze, he saw his maidservant kneeling by the table, staring blankly at the steam rising from the food. He shook his head, clearing himself of his drowsiness, picked up his chopsticks lazily and continued to eat.

Fu Hua saw, and smiled pleasantly.

The food was prepared intricately, as every dish was to Lin Rufei's taste. Although he ate inattentively, as if dreaming about some faraway place.

Fu Hua questioned: "What is young master thinking about?"

"Now that the cherry blossoms have blossomed, are the monkeys still there?"

Softly, she replied: "Of course. Does the young master want to see the blossoms?"

He sighed defeatedly. "If so, another day, then."

"If the young master dislikes it so, I'll drive them off beforehand."

Lin Rufei shook his head, and said no more.

The weather was vastly different above and below the mountain. At the moment spring was in full bloom at its foot, the surrounding forest of cherry blossoms flowering at the cusp of its glory. There were no lack of visitors either, though a troop of monkeys had taken residence within the forest and often harassed people as they passed through, especially the weak and young.

"Go without me." Fu Hua wanted to object, but her master had already waved her away. "I feel exhausted already."

"Young master, let's go down from the mountain, just the both of us." Fu Hua pleaded. "It's so cold up here, and with your ill health, if anything happened to you, the second young master would have my head."

Lin Rufei smiled. "It won't come to that, I'm sure."

Fu Hua kept urging him. "If you're unwilling to stay within the mansion, we could go a little farther beyond, take a walk elsewhere."

Unfazed, Lin Rufei shut his eyes, signaling that he would doze off soon. Fu Hua's eyes watered, and after a pause, said. "I'll really be leaving, then."

"Be careful as you leave." Lin Rufei told her. "Take some books with you next time you come; I'm almost done with the ones at hand."

Fu Hua mumbled in response and reluctantly left the house.

He closed his eyes, as if truly asleep. Until Fu Hua's figure vanished into the snow did he open them again, not a hint of sleepiness within but filled with guile. 

Grabbing his furs and flinging them around his shoulders, he took off towards the mountains behind the house. Yet when he arrived, he searched, and was unable to find what he was looking for.

"Huh? The flower… where did it go?" Lin Rufei coughed into his palm several times. "Wasn't it here just now…" He scanned the boulder for a long while, though the cream colored blossom was nowhere in view. As he mulled over where it was, he felt someone tap on his shoulder.

He turned and saw a man with a sword by his hip, donning cerulean robes, currently looking at himself.

Lin Rufei's expression froze. After a long moment, he called quietly. "…Brother."

The man was his second oldest brother, Lin Bianyu.

Lin Bianyu asked. "What are you looking at?"

"…Nothing in particular."

"How long are you going to stay up here?" He asked again.

Lin Rufei felt an itch at the back of his throat. Instantly, his hand flew to his mouth, though his body shook violently as he resisted it.

His brother sighed at the sight. "Cough if you have to. It's not as if I can blame you, can I?"

Lin Rufei smiled painfully. Upon loosening his grasp, he seized for a moment, and immediately started cough until his sides burned from the exertion.

"The cherry blossoms have bloomed below the mountain." Lin Bianyu said after Lin Rufei caught his breath. "Go down and take a look. It's too cold here. You shouldn't be staying for long."

Lin Rufei knew it was only for his own good, and solemnly nodded in agreement.

His brother would not so easily fooled though. He gestured with his chin, telling Lin Rufei to pack. He would bring him down the mountain himself.

Helpless under his brother's watchful eye, he slowly made his way back to the house. Lin Bianyu did not hasten him and followed dutifully.

There wasn't much to take away. Lin Rufei looked around and picked up the 'Shanhe Zhi'* he'd been reading last night.

*'Book of mountains and rivers'

Lin Bianyu took a look at the book and asked him how much he'd read of it.

"More than half." Lin Rufei smiled as he asked. "The years during your travels, did you ever go to the places mentioned inside?"

"Mostly." Lin Bianyu replied impassively. "There wasn't much to see."

Lin Rufei smiled, but did not speak.

As Lin Rufei finished up, Lin Bianyu took him into his embrace and hefted him into his arms. Lin Rufei opened his mouth to protest but Lin Bianyu stared him in the eye. "Or would you rather Fu Hua carry you down?"

Lin Rufei stopped. Being carried by a maiden didn't seem the better alternative, anyhow. 

"I am your brother, after all." Lin Bianyu's voice was cold as ice. "I'll cut off the tongues of anyone who talks."

Lin Rufei stayed silent and allowed Lin Bianyu as he pleased— he knew that his brother hadn't been bantering.

The years that came after confirming his inaptitude, there had been rumors among the common folk. Lin Bianyu, who had just returned from his travels, had hunted down every single one of them, challenged them one by one, defeated them one by one, and took their tongues by his sword, Tianxiao— Night of the heavens. There hadn't been word of Lin Rufei since, in spite of the fact that he couldn't do so much as lift a sword.

Lin Bianyu carried Lin Rufei out from beneath the roof, took off from the ground and headed downward-bound.

A sharp blast of jianqi sheared the falling snow aside. Lin Rufei dipped his head, his lashes casting faded shadows on his pale skin. The frost tinging the tip of his nose had begun to melt. Until he opened his eyes, the landscape around him had already changed into one of vibrant spring. 

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