The door to the rear room had already closed.
A trace of residual warmth remained on the copper ring, gradually cooling.
Shell casings, splintered wood, overturned chairs, and marks left by stray bullets across the walls lay scattered throughout the cramped space, like a scene frozen in time.
What had disappeared were two people.
Su Muchen knelt before the door, his forehead pressed against the door panel, unable to speak for a long time.
His palm rested against the door. He could feel no response, only the cold, smooth texture of the wood.
The air in the rear room was a mixture of gunpowder smoke, dust, and a dampness of some kind, all slowly settling.
When Su Qianqian arrived at the scene, she was holding a communications device, her breathing slightly faster than usual, as though she had hurried over.
Her gaze fell on Su Muchen’s back before moving away.
“Confirm that Xiao and the target are missing. Put the remaining personnel at the scene onto the transport vehicle.” She took over command, her tone as calm as ever.
“Maintain security around the perimeter. Group A, leave half your personnel to clean up the scene. The rest withdraw and conduct a personnel count.” She turned toward the communications channel. “Group B, continue monitoring the surroundings. If you encounter anything unusual, withdraw as the first priority.”
Su Ningning also walked over.
Although she had received professional training, seeing Xiao swallowed up by the out-of-control door caused a complicated expression to appear on her face.
Su Qianqian, by contrast, remained extremely calm. “Xiao may not be dead. He’s a Gatekeeper. Even if he was pulled into a malfunctioning door, there’s still a chance he survived.”
Su Muchen moved when he heard those words and turned to look at Su Qianqian.
“Su Muchen, you’re the only one who can save him,” Su Qianqian said.
She handed a small device and a dark gray-green case about the length of an arm to Su Ningning.
“Ningning, take over his matter. Execute according to Article 125 of the Emergency Manual.”
After saying that, she continued communicating and issuing commands across multiple channels.
She still had many things to deal with.
The wounded, the missing, damaged equipment, clearing the scene, as well as the aftermath of Sheng Chengxiu’s disappearance.
Xiao was no longer here. She had to shoulder the responsibility of command.
Su Ningning stuffed the small device into Su Muchen’s hands.
“This is a passive positioning beacon tracker. It doesn’t require a network or satellites,” she said. “Xiao has an implanted locator on him. This device can receive his signal.”
The passive positioning beacon tracker was only slightly larger than a phone.
At the top and bottom of the device was an extremely fine micro-array antenna, almost flush with the body of the machine.
She pressed the power button on the side. The screen lit up, with a small green dot steadily glowing in the center.
“The green dot is you. The orange-red dot is Xiao. The brightness represents distance. The lower section will display directional information.”
There was no time. She could only teach Su Muchen in the most concise way possible.
Su Muchen’s gaze fell on the screen.
He saw that on the circular radar display, there was only the green dot representing himself. The concentric rings around it were empty.
There was no orange-red signal because Xiao was not here.
Su Ningning quickly explained everything.
Su Muchen committed all the information to memory. He had to learn it immediately.
“Considering where he was shot and the amount of blood he’s lost, if the bleeding hasn’t been stopped…” Su Ningning said grimly, “he may not make it until dawn.”
When the last few words fell into the air of Guichen House, Su Ningning’s voice was slightly lower than usual.
She knew very well that even with the tracker, the difficulty of the search and rescue would still be extremely high. It was like trying to find a needle in the ocean.
But she did not pause for long. She simply pulled the dark gray emergency medical case over from the side and opened the lid.
The contents inside were clearly divided into layers.
“This is our specialized emergency medical kit. You should know how to use everything inside.”
Su Ningning pointed to each layer, as if allowing the items to quickly pass through Su Muchen’s mind once, so that he would not waste time searching for something later.
“I don’t know where he’ll appear after crossing the door. But you can observe through the door. The Gatekeeper and the Key of the Door both have a deep connection with the door. The door should respond to you.”
She closed the lid and handed both the emergency kit and tracker to Su Muchen.
Her final instruction was, “If he’s alive, don’t bring him back directly. The door has just malfunctioned, and Xiao is seriously injured. We can’t guarantee what might happen.”
Su Muchen accepted them.
He nodded, as though receiving an order for which there was no longer any time to hesitate.
Every second counted now. At this moment, he was the only one who could go to Dasheng. He also had to search for Xiao’s whereabouts on an uncertain map and bring him back alive.
But he had to go.
He turned and walked toward the deep vermilion door, placed the emergency kit at his feet, then pressed his palm against the door panel once more.
He had seen Xiao do this before.
“Tell me where Xiao is.”
He closed his eyes.
He maintained that position.
Beneath his palm, the door panel gave no response.
He did not open his eyes, sensing through the darkness.
Thinking of the Xiao who was always protecting him, blocking so many dangers and troubles for him.
Thinking that at this moment, he might be somewhere in Dasheng, waiting for him to come and save him.
After some time, an extremely faint vibration traveled up from deep within the door panel.
Very light, like a signal slowly drawing closer.
He did not open his eyes. He kept his breathing at a steady rhythm, just as Xiao Yuan had once taught him.
A light suddenly appeared in his mind.
Snow and blood.
The sound of wind.
Cracked stone.
Dead trees.
Tattered flags.
The moon obscured by clouds.
A black shadow in the snow.
They were all fragmented flashes, appearing and vanishing in rapid succession.
So fast that he could barely see them clearly.
His heart began beating faster involuntarily.
He desperately wanted to go over and save Xiao.
But he immediately suppressed it, forcing himself to think calmly.
Dasheng was already at the beginning of spring. If there was anywhere that still had snow, it would be the northern frontier.
And the northern frontier was precisely where Xiao Yuan was.
“Let me go over. Otherwise, Xiao will die, and you’ll lose your Gatekeeper!” he whispered to the door.
With one hand carrying the emergency kit, he extended his other hand toward the empty air, just as he had practiced in the past, without hesitation.
He thought of that snowfield, thought of that person, thought of how he absolutely had to pass through this door and find him before that person stopped breathing.
Before long, that connection grew stronger.
At last, his fingertips touched something cold.
Very cold—colder than metal.
It was the door ring.
Existing within the invisible void.
He tightened his grip around the door ring. As he pulled it backward, he felt a force pierce through him, and his consciousness began drifting away from the space he occupied.
He was being pulled toward somewhere.
Through that line he had never truly crossed before.
He whispered, “Don’t you dare die. You still owe me an explanation.”
Cold white light suddenly appeared.
When the light swallowed him, his consciousness seemed to be pulled from his body for an instant, then slammed heavily back into place.
He felt the ground beneath his feet becoming harder, colder.
The old wooden floor of Guichen House changed into something he had never stepped on before.
A chill shot straight up from the soles of his feet.
The air was cold too.
So cold it almost froze his entire lungs.
There was a smell of charcoal mixed into the air.
Completely different from the gentle scent of old wood in Guichen House.
Strange, yet familiar. He had smelled it before.
When he opened his eyes, he saw a rocky arched ceiling.
At this moment, he was standing inside a huge underground cavern. Ancient patterns he had never seen before were carved into the walls around him.
Behind him was a door almost identical to the one in the rear room of Guichen House.
Only this door was larger.
The cloud-and-water patterns on its copper ring were glowing, slowly flowing.
He knew he had finally succeeded, but he had no time to celebrate.
Su Muchen saw two people dressed in black ancient-style clothing standing at the entrance, holding long blades and warily watching him.
One of them shouted in a low voice, “Who dares trespass upon the forbidden grounds!”
Suddenly, a person dressed in strange clothing walked out of the door, greatly startling them.
Su Muchen did not panic.
He immediately took out the Silver Wolf Token from his pocket and held it up before the two men.
The silver-black token glimmered coldly in the dim light, the pattern of the silver wolf clearly visible.
The two shrine guards stopped simultaneously when they saw the token.
One of them sheathed his blade and bowed as he asked, “Are you… Doctor Su?”
“Take me to Prince Su!” Su Muchen said.
◆◇◆◇◆
When Xiao Yuan arrived at the sacrificial offering storehouse, the hem of his robe was still stained with melted snow, as though he had hurried straight there.
The fact that Su Muchen could finally open the door should have been something worth celebrating.
But Xiao Yuan had an extremely bad premonition.
Because today was the day Sheng Chengxiu was most likely to make his move.
He had not gone to Guichen House because Xiao had requested that he stop going there starting today.
Yet Su Muchen had successfully opened the door and come to Dasheng on this very day.
This meant that the operation had not only begun, but that something had happened that had forced Su Muchen to open the door and come over.
He had practically rushed to the sacrificial offering storehouse.
Xia Lanshi arrived shortly afterward as well.
When he entered, the first thing Xiao Yuan saw was Su Muchen standing inside the sacrificial offering storehouse, wearing thin modern clothes and shivering in the space where the temperature was close to zero degrees.
He took one step forward, removed his cloak, and draped it over Su Muchen’s shoulders.
Only then did he ask, “What happened?”
Su Muchen held the edge of the cloak. Xiao Yuan’s body heat still lingered on it, allowing him to calm down slightly.
“There was a problem with the door. Xiao was seriously injured. I observed through the door and saw him in the snow. I think he must have fallen somewhere in the northern frontier.”
His eyes were filled with anxiety as he said, “If we don’t find Xiao before dawn, he’ll die!”
Xiao Yuan did not ask for details. Instead, he turned to Xia Lanshi.
“Map.”
Xia Lanshi steadied his breathing and had already spread the map across the table.
“Doctor Su, did you observe anything else?”
His gaze did not turn toward Su Muchen.
It was not because he was cold or indifferent. Rather, his attention was already completely focused on the possible landing points.
Su Muchen had mentioned snow. It was already early spring in the northern frontier, but there were still quite a few places covered in snow.
Su Muchen drew the fragmented images he had seen and described the key points as best he could.
“I saw some dead trees around him. The short kind.” He desperately tried to recall. “The wind was very strong. There were remnants of flags. And piles of stones.”
His voice trembled slightly, not only because of the cold, but also because of the horrifying scene he had witnessed.
“The snow was quite deep. There was blood everywhere… Xiao was lying there.”
Xia Lanshi’s fingertips moved rapidly across the map, pointing out three locations.
“The most likely location is about fifteen li northwest of Linbei City. There are sparse low shrubs and piles of stones nearby, and the snow is deep.” He raised his eyes toward Xiao Yuan. “Your Highness, search in this direction.”
Xiao Yuan ordered, “Guards, listen up. One unit goes northwest, another goes northeast. I will take a unit northwest. Depart immediately for the rescue. Chief Secretary Xia, return to the administrative office and stand by.”
The guards acknowledged the order and left.
Su Muchen immediately grabbed Xiao Yuan.
“I’m going too. I brought a tracker that can locate Xiao, but its effective range is only five to six li.”
Xiao Yuan took his hand and walked outside the sacrificial offering storehouse, saying to the guard beside him, “Bring Xuan Shuang here. Prepare the rescue supplies.”
The guard acknowledged the order and hurried away.
Su Muchen followed behind him.
When they walked out of the sacrificial offering storehouse, he saw the sky of Dasheng for the first time.
In the darkness of night, the clouds hung extremely low, with the moon half-hidden behind them.
The air carried the mixed scent of snow and frozen earth.
He had no time to stop and admire it.
He only wanted to find Xiao immediately and bring him back.
He held the tracker in his hand. On its screen, only the green dot representing himself was still blinking.
“Muan. I will definitely help you find Xiao.”
Xiao Yuan adjusted the cloak over Su Muchen and fastened it properly, then asked a guard for another cape and draped it over himself, worried that Su Muchen might freeze before they found the man.
He himself also took another cape and put it on.
Su Muchen answered softly.
Almost an hour had already passed since Xiao disappeared.
The journey was fifteen li. Even riding as fast as possible, it would take nearly two hours to get there, and that did not include the time needed to search.
If they went to the wrong location, even more time would be lost.
The knuckles of the hand holding the emergency kit turned white and trembled slightly.
It was not because of the cold.
It was because he did not dare think about whether, when he finally found Xiao, those eyes that always carried a smile would still be able to open.
For the first time, he hated time so much.
Xiao Yuan looked at his pale face. He knew that Su Muchen must be extremely anxious inside, even though he was still suppressing it.
Soon, the guards led over a dark chestnut warhorse.
It was Xiao Yuan’s horse, named Xuan Shuang.
The horse was slightly larger than an ordinary horse, with sturdy bones and hard hooves.
Its mane and tail were exceptionally thick, and its mane was blown upward by the cold wind.
It almost blended into the night, making little sound as it approached.
“Get on.”
After stepping into the stirrup and mounting the horse, Xiao Yuan held the reins in one hand, lowered his body slightly, and extended his hand toward Su Muchen.
Su Muchen handed the emergency kit to the guard beside him.
He grasped that hand.
Xiao Yuan tightened his grip and pulled him forward with force, settling him in front of himself.
“Sit tight. Don’t look at the ground.”
Xiao Yuan spoke softly beside his ear.
Then he immediately ordered the guards, “Ride out!”
The horse’s hooves shattered the remaining snow. As it charged forward, it shot out like a black arrow.
Su Muchen’s body leaned backward from the inertia of the horse’s acceleration, pressing against Xiao Yuan’s chest.
He felt the wind sweep past his ears, carrying the cold unique to early spring in the northern frontier.
One hand gripped the front of the saddle, while the other held the tracker.
The light on the screen had not yet appeared.
And Xiao Yuan steadily protected him in front of himself.
The city gates had already been opened in advance. Xiao Yuan led more than a dozen guards on horseback into the night.
Su Muchen stared at the tracker the entire way.
He did not look back even once.
He could not waste a single second. He could only focus on the rescue.
Because if even one step went wrong, everything would become irreparable.
Xia Lanshi watched their figures disappear into the distance, his fingertips unconsciously rubbing the white jade safety pendant.
He could not go. Someone had to remain here to command.
“Return to the administrative office. Prepare the south courtyard. Notify the military physicians to stand by. Whoever arrives tonight, save them first. Besides—” He coldly issued his orders to the guards. “Pass down the order. Nothing seen or heard tonight may be disclosed. Anyone who disobeys will be executed.”
◇◆◇◆◇
There was no sound.
The sensation of snow landing on his face brought him back to consciousness before the pain did.
Tiny ice crystals clung to his skin, slowly melting and creating a sensation somewhere between cold and numbness.
Xiao slowly opened his eyes.
The first thing he saw was a silver-gray sky.
Snow was falling. Not heavily, only fine and dense flakes drifting down.
They landed on his eyelashes, his cheeks, and along the open collar of his clothes.
Slowly accumulating into a thin layer of white.
He was confused.
…How could there be snow in this season?
The wind blew past his ears, carrying an unfamiliar scent.
Not the old wood of Guichen House, not the damp stone pavement of Changning Alley, nor the cold metallic smell of modern equipment.
It was drier.
Colder.
He did not immediately get up.
He simply lay there quietly, looking at the sky.
He confirmed two things.
—He was still alive.
—This was not his original world.
The order in which his memories returned was chaotic.
Red light came first, like a darkness spreading outward, surging through the crack in the door and wrapping around those figures still struggling.
Then came an interweaving of cold white and dark red light.
Then sounds.
Glass shattering, metal twisting, the instant when human voices were cut off.
The door.
Sheng Chengxiu.
Su Muchen.
Gunshots.
The broken fragments of memory gradually gathered within his consciousness.
He remembered the gunshots.
He had not had time to confirm anything because the door had already begun malfunctioning.
He only remembered the last scene he saw: Su Muchen standing at the rear door, panting heavily, his collar disordered.
Shouting, “Stop!”
Then the door opened.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
Not because of pain, but because those fragments were piecing together into a complete picture inside his mind.
Then he opened his eyes and gave a very faint smile.
Weak.
“Ah…”
That’s right.
Sheng Chengxiu… had been brought over.
With him.
They had passed through the door and fallen into Dasheng.
He looked at the silver-gray sky as his memories, like archived records, gradually returned to their proper places.
“Failed again…”
Sheng Chengxiu had come over.
He knew about the door.
He knew about Su Muchen.
He knew about Dasheng.
Those secrets could no longer be hidden.
He had spent so much effort guarding them for so many years.
In the end, he had still failed.
Sheng Chengxiu had fallen into this world carrying that knowledge, like a bomb that had not yet been activated.
At this moment, it was beginning its countdown somewhere unseen.
He had calculated everything, yet he had never calculated that, at the critical moment, he would awaken something that should never have been awakened.
He lay in the snow, looking at the sky.
These things were like a formula that had already been calculated countless times.
It was easy to arrive at a conclusion he had already anticipated.
This time… there really was no time left.
He tried to sit up.
He braced himself with his right hand, but failed. His elbow slipped across the snow, and he fell back into place.
His palm left a long streak of blood across the snow, dark red and particularly conspicuous against the white ground.
He turned his head and looked at the mark.
Only then did he finally remember—
His right shoulder had been shot.
Although he had put on a bulletproof vest, the sniper had aimed at a place the vest could not protect.
At the time, under the emergency of the situation, he had avoided it under Jiguang’s warning, but he had still been hit in the right shoulder.
He raised his eyes toward the several messages floating within his field of vision and discovered that Jiguang was still operating, but had entered offline mode.
【Warning: Penetrating injury to right shoulder.】
【Risk of hypothermia: High.】
【Emergency distress signal sent: Failed.】
Blood had already soaked through his clothes, spreading into a large patch of dark red across the snow.
The snow absorbed the blood, freezing it into dark-red ice crusts clinging to the edges of the wound.
Blood loss, combined with the low temperature, was slowly eroding his body from the extremities inward.
His fingertips began losing sensation.
The soles of his feet began to feel as though they no longer belonged to him.
The white mist from his breath grew fainter and fainter, as though his body heat were slowly being drawn away.
He did not feel pain.
He only felt his body becoming lighter, as though some invisible force were gradually taking him away piece by piece.
He thought of Guichen House.
He thought of the lamp that was always lit at night.
He thought of Su Muchen frowning as he placed breakfast in front of him, insisting verbally that it was only because he happened to be doing it.
He thought of the letter Xia Lanshi had sent.
The letter said that the little snow owl was curled up in the haystack and no longer trembling.
He thought of the letter Xia Lanshi had sent, telling him that if he was tired, he could rest for the time being.
He thought of Xiao Yuan asking him, “How old are you this year?”
Lying in the snow, those scenes gradually became clearer.
They did not feel like memories.
Rather, they were something slowly moving toward where he was.
So this was what a person remembered when they were about to die.
Not the long span of an entire life.
But the little things they had believed would continue tomorrow.
He thought again of what Xiao Yuan had said:
“You are very important to Muan, and to Huaiyu as well.”
He had not responded at the time.
It was not because he did not believe him.
Rather, he was only a Gatekeeper, a node that would disappear once his mission was complete.
But at this moment, lying in the snow, when he thought he had already reached the end of the road, he suddenly felt that he had been wrong.
If he could go back.
If he could go back, perhaps there were still some words he had not yet said.
Not about the door.
Not about the plan.
Only about that lamp in Guichen House.
About the little snow owl curled up in the haystack in Xia Lanshi’s letter.
About Su Muchen frowning and saying, “Stop jinxing things.”
About what was hidden behind those words Xiao Yuan had spoken.
Thinking of this, he suddenly smiled.
The smile was very faint, quickly buried beneath the snow.
He remembered a song he liked very much, 《Waiting in the Snowy Night》.
He murmured a sentence, his voice swallowed by the wind.
“…If the little snow owl hasn’t been given a name yet, how about calling it Snowy Night?”
That was something he had never had the chance to tell Xia Lanshi.
If only he had known, he would have finished that letter first.
But… it was already too late.
The snow fell more and more densely.
His vision gradually blurred.
At the edges, a gray-white halo of light slowly spread outward, gently enveloping him.
All that remained beside his ears was the sound of the wind.
He slowly closed his eyes.
There was no fear in his heart.
Only a faint trace of regret.
Like someone who had already walked a very long road, finally sitting down beside it, preparing to rest.
“This time.” His voice grew fainter. “…still no good.”
He did not try to stand again.
He simply lay quietly in the snow.
The snow slowly fell, little by little.
Covering his shoulder.
Covering the hem of his clothes.
Covering the blood that had already frozen.
Just as before.
Waiting for the snow to bury him deep within.