Yun Che had no interest in the Profound Frost Creation Pill. Watching as the price soared to astronomical heights, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of quiet regret for Yun Feng, whose black mist was fluctuating wildly but ultimately fell silent. It seemed that this treasure was beyond his reach.

  Just as he was mulling over this, the arrogant figure holding the Creation Pill sneered and began to retract the jade box.

  “A pile of junk thinking it could exchange for the Creation Pill? This item isn’t for anything less than top-grade ice materials or five hundred spirit stones!” His tone was brash, dripping with disdain.

  The atmosphere became momentarily cold. The host cleared his throat, moving the transaction along.

  Soon, it was Yun Che's turn. He stepped forward, retrieving a jade bottle filled with his Spirit Snow Water, cradling it gently in his palm. Under the cover of black mist, his voice was calm and measured.

  “This is ‘Cold Marrow Spirit Liquid,’ made from the essence of the Snow Soul of the Profound Frost Mountain. Each drop contains pure ice spiritual energy, with potency equivalent to a Qi Condensation Pill. There are a hundred drops in this bottle. I will exchange it for cultivation techniques for those in the third-layer of Qi Condensation or higher.”

  As soon as he uncorked the bottle, a crisp, pure fragrance, far more potent than ordinary Cold Pond Water, wafted into the air, even more natural and penetrating than the earlier Creation Pill's aroma. The black mist surrounding many ice-based cultivators rippled slightly, clearly drawn to it.

  “Fourth-layer Qi Condensation technique, in exchange for your Spirit Liquid!” Someone immediately spoke up.

  Yun Che shook his head. “Just the fourth layer isn’t enough.”

  “I’ll offer techniques from the fourth, fifth, and sixth layers in exchange,” another voice chimed in.

  Yun Che thought for a moment. These techniques would cover his current cultivation needs. However, recalling the uniqueness of his path and the mysteries of the stone bead, he realized he might need a broader reference. He tested the waters.

  “I would like techniques from at least the third to the ninth layers.”

  A few murmurs swept through the crowd. The exchange was clearly not as easy as it seemed.

  “Junior Brother, you ask too much,” the previous bidder chuckled lightly. “Even among the inner sect’s elite, those who can access the seventh or eighth layer techniques are extremely rare. Anything above the ninth layer is in the hands of Foundation Establishment elders.”

  Yun Che remained silent, weighing the options. Just as he was about to accept the offer for the fourth to sixth layers, a cold, clear, and unabashedly young male voice rang out from the entrance of the mountain clearing.

  “If you can produce two hundred drops of such quality Spirit Liquid, I will give you the full techniques from the fourth to the ninth layers.”

  A wave of surprise rippled through the crowd as black mist shifted toward the source of the voice.

  A young man, dressed in a purple robe with gold embroidery at the cuffs, stood amidst the snow. He appeared to be around twenty-seven or twenty-eight, with a stern, cold face and eyes like frozen lakes. He had not taken the Veiling Mist Pill, and his aura was solid, like a mountain. Even though he didn’t intentionally release his pressure, his presence already caused most of the figures in the crowd to feel a momentary difficulty in breathing.

  “Greetings, Senior Brother Murong!” After a brief silence, several black mists immediately bowed, their voices full of reverence. The regal appearance, combined with the purple robe and gold embroidery, immediately revealed his identity—Murong Han, an inner sect prodigy!

  Murong Han ignored the crowd, his icy gaze piercing through the snow and mist directly at Yun Che.

  “Do you have two hundred drops?”

  Yun Che's heart thudded in his chest, and his pupils constricted under the black mist. The aura around Murong Han was even deeper and colder than what he had felt from Zhang Mingyuan, and there was an inherent indifference in his demeanor, a palpable gap in strength that made Yun Che instinctively feel a sharp sense of danger.

  He forced himself to calm down and respectfully responded,

  “Senior Brother, this liquid was something I obtained by chance. Aside from the hundred drops I intend to exchange, I have only a small amount left for personal use, and I do not have two hundred drops.”

  Murong Han’s brow twitched imperceptibly, but after a brief pause, he snapped his fingers. A beam of ice-blue light shot forward and hovered in front of Yun Che. It was a crystal-clear ice tablet, emitting a faint cold aura.

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  “Fine. Give me all your remaining liquid, and this ice tablet containing the Profound Frost Condensation Techniques from the fourth to the ninth layers is yours.”

  Murong Han’s voice was devoid of emotion, yet his words carried an undeniable decisiveness.

  Yun Che’s heart raced. A surge of joy mixed with trepidation coursed through him. He carefully scanned the ice tablet with his divine sense, confirming that it contained a massive and orderly flow of information—a clear cultivation method, layer by layer.

  Without hesitation, he retrieved another smaller jade bottle from his robe—the remaining few dozen drops of Spirit Snow Water. He gently placed both bottles in the snow at his feet without stepping forward.

  Murong Han’s gaze swept over them without hesitation. The two bottles floated up into the air and landed in his sleeve. With a brief scan of his divine sense, he nodded slightly, then glanced at Yun Che.

  His voice, still cold, rang out, loud enough for everyone to hear:

  “Should you acquire more of this Spirit Liquid or learn its source, come find me at the Ice Soul Cliff at the back mountain. Creation Pills, quality magic weapons, high-level talismans, and even techniques beyond the ninth layer… all can be negotiated.”

  With that, he flicked his purple robe, his figure turning into a streak of ice-blue light and vanishing into the wind and snow in an instant.

  Yun Che’s face darkened at the last sentence. His eyes gleamed with sharpness.

  Insidious!

  On the surface, it seemed like an offer of a “trading channel,” but in reality, it had placed him squarely in the spotlight! The implication was clear: anyone who could provide this type of Spirit Liquid would have access to heavy treasures from Murong Han. This announcement essentially exposed the fact that the “shadow” holding this mysterious liquid might have a way to continuously obtain it, a secret much more valuable than the liquid itself!

  Although he couldn’t see the eyes of the others, Yun Che could clearly feel several subtle, greedy “gazes” locking onto his black mist like venomous snakes. The air seemed to thicken with tension, and the orderly atmosphere of the trading session was completely shattered, replaced by cold anticipation and malice.

  Yun Che’s heart grew colder, but he remained calm. Ever since he had decided to offer the Spirit Snow Water, he had anticipated that he might draw attention—but he hadn’t expected it to erupt in such a direct and dangerous way. Taking a deep breath, he straightened his posture beneath the black mist and moved back to his original spot, pretending to be unaware of the dangerous currents swirling around him.

  The session continued, albeit briefly. The mood had shifted. Many participants, clearly distracted, quickly began to disperse, their movements hasty.

  Yun Che did not walk out with Yun Feng. As soon as he was out of the mountain clearing’s line of sight, he didn’t hesitate—he pulled out a stack of Spirit Walking Talismans from his robe. These low-grade talismans, acquired through part of his “tribute,” would boost his movement speed slightly. He slapped them onto his legs, and pale blue light flashed as his speed increased dramatically. Like a shadow flitting across the snow, he disappeared around the corner of the winding mountain path.

  Yun Feng, still in a daze, immediately snapped to attention. Cursing himself, he hastily pulled out his own talismans and set off in the opposite direction.

  As for the other black figures who had displayed valuable items in the exchange, most of them were similarly hastening to escape, each using their own means.

  Indeed, after Yun Che’s swift departure, several black mists quietly emerged near his previous location. Low curses were exchanged:

  “Damn it! He’s quick!”

  “Which way did he go?”

  “That little brat’s slippery. His aura’s hidden well. Split up and search!”

  But the night was deep, and the snow swirled heavily. Yun Che had accelerated far ahead, taking winding, difficult paths while subtly activating the Breath Concealment Art—still incomplete but enough to obscure the lingering traces of his spiritual fluctuations. The pursuing figures hesitated, losing their trail.

  Some of the more confident and calculating figures did not immediately pursue. Robbing a fellow disciple openly in the sect was too risky, especially considering that Yun Che might have some hidden backing (evident from the mysterious liquid). They preferred to investigate quietly, gathering more information about this “shadow’s” true identity.

  Yun Che raced on, pushing his Spirit Walking Talismans to their limits, his energy spinning wildly within him, urging him onward. The sound of wind and snow rushing past filled his ears as he hurtled toward his destination, the thought in his mind singular: Get back to the sect!

  In less than half an hour, the distant outlines of the Profound Frost Sect came into view. But he didn’t return to the miscellaneous area immediately. Instead, he stopped at an abandoned woodcutter’s hut in a secluded, uninhabited area. There, he concealed his presence and waited silently.

  As dawn approached and the snow began to subside, the effects of the Veiling Mist Pill finally wore off. The black mist around him dissipated in threads, revealing his slightly fatigued yet sharp-eyed form. He carefully checked his surroundings to ensure there were no traces of pursuit or anomalies before adjusting his gray robes. He moved steadily, like any ordinary early morning laborer, toward the miscellaneous section.

  Everything seemed normal.

  Returning to the modest yet somewhat reassuring storage shed, Yun Che locked the door behind him, setting up a few simple alert mechanisms. Leaning against the cold wall, he slowly sank to the floor, exhaling deeply.

  In his palm, the ice-cold ice tablet pressed against his skin.

  The dangers were everywhere, but ahead… there was finally a glimmer of clarity.

  Without delay, he sank his consciousness into the stone bead.

  The milky white void stretched endlessly, silent. Yun Che sat cross-legged, the ice tablet floating before him. Cautiously, he extended his divine sense and made contact. Instantly, a flood of vast and intricate texts, diagrams, and spiritual power flows surged into his mind.

  The Profound Frost Condensation Techniques—from the fourth to the ninth layers.

  The true seclusion began. For now, the external undercurrents and hidden dangers were temporarily isolated by the tenfold time and his insatiable thirst for knowledge.

  Spirit Snow Water for the fourth to the ninth layers of the Profound Frost Condensation Techniques.

  What do you think Yun Che needs most right now? Should he be more cautious of those eyeing his spirit liquid, or should he continue progressing at his own pace?

  Feel free to leave your thoughts below and discuss!