Inside, a dank corridor twisted through the stone, lit by Zhao Ye's flickering "ninefold ember" magic. They advanced until the corridor opened into a vaulted chamber bathed in shafts of sunlight from hidden skylights. At its center stood a raised dais, atop which lay a stone coffin—its lid crowned by the Crimson Snow Sword.
Sheng Xue moved forward, but when her hand touched the hilt, an invisible force repelled her. She staggered.
Zhao Ye rushed to steady her. "Wait—let us read the inscription."
Carved on the coffin: "White jade without blemish, Yellow springs conceal both life and death. Her soul sank where cliffs converge, Her bones lie beneath these stones. I vow on this sacred ground: If you regret your choice, your heart shall drown. If you do not, your spirit shall never die." —"For Zhu Feixue, by her consort Cui Yuanzhi."
Sheng Xue's voice trembled. "They survived… he buried her here… for love."
Zhao Ye examined the sword. "She guards her mistress still. The blade demanded its true heir."
Sheng Xue knelt and bowed thrice before the coffin. "I, Sheng Xue, rightful disciple of the Celestial Nymph Palace, pay homage to my elder."
As she rose, the Crimson Snow Sword leapt free—circling thrice before settling into her hand. Warmth flooded her chest as sword-spirit and soul aligned. The Four Elemental Blades were reunited at last.
Sheng Xue sheathed the blade and turned to Zhao Ye. "Come—we must return."
But behind them, the coffin lid split in two with a thunderous crack, shards of stone clattering to the floor. They froze, hearts pounding: the seal had been broken by the sword's release.
Sheng Xue's face blanched. "I… I have desecrated her tomb—what have I done?"
Zhao Ye laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. "It was the blade's will, not yours. Perhaps her spirit sought to reveal this place to us."
They glanced back: inside the shattered coffin lay only clear, frost-cold water—no bone, no dust. In its depths pulse lent the surface an eerie glow.
"'If you do not regret, your spirit lives on.'" Sheng Xue whispered, recalling the inscription. "Her heart remained steadfast unto death."
As they watched, bubbles rose from the black water. Then, with a hiss, a single emerald bead shot upward like a living pearl.
Sheng Xue's reflex was swift: her sword arced out, shattering the bead mid-air—but fragments of jade shot inward, grazing her arm.
Zhao Ye lunged forward, snatching the fragments upon his chest. He felt a sudden searing warmth—and discovered a filigreed shell of iridescent scale over his left rib. Startled, he gazed down to find a slim "Flowing-Water Tortoise Shell" guard had formed there—an auto-defensive charm that had protected him.
Catching sight of the bead, Sheng Xue knelt and gathered it in her palm. It was a perfect orb of pale jade, flecked with a single ruby droplet that shifted to its lowest point by gravity.
Zhao Ye lifted the fragment shell from his chest in wonder.
"This must be the very red-heart bead Feixue forged," Sheng Xue said. "It contains her spirit's essence."
Zhao Ye bowed respectfully and returned the censer to the tomb's hollow. He lifted from it a small stone shaped like a heart—Feixue's own heart, now petrified.
"'If you do not regret, your spirit lives on,'" he murmured, awed by her unwavering love.
Carefully cradling sword, bead, and stone-heart, they retraced their steps through the mist-cloaked corridor.
Outside, Yu Shanren waited at the cave mouth. He received the spoil with a smile both proud and wistful. "Zhu Feixue guarded her mistress even beyond death. Your hearts were true to bring them home."
With that, the five emerged under the open sky, the four Elemental Blades blazing once more—and in Zhao Ye's palm, the twin treasures that would rescue a life and testify to an undying devotion.