After obtaining the fourth through ninth layers of the Mystic Frost Condensation Qi Art, Yun Che finally felt a deep sense of reassurance. He devoted all his focus to verifying and comprehending the cultivation formula within the dreamscape of the stone bead, entering a truly reclusive phase of cultivation.

  Time slipped by quietly. Within the Profound Frost Sect, however, a tense and fervent atmosphere grew heavier by the day.

  The annual Minor Sect Tournament was approaching. It was not merely a contest of rankings and resource allocation, but a crucial opportunity for outer disciples to advance to the inner sect, and for inner disciples to prove their worth and earn the favor of their masters. Nearly every qualified disciple was secretly pushing themselves to the limit—refining techniques, stabilizing cultivation—hoping to shine in the upcoming matches.

  What truly stirred the nerves of the sect’s upper echelons and elite disciples, however, was the Frost Sword Discourse, an event held only once every ten years. Rumors claimed that the reward for this year’s champion would be unprecedented: not only vast quantities of spirit stones and pills, but also a chance to receive a treasured artifact from the sect’s secret vault—the Ice-Soul Coldlight Mirror. Said to have once belonged to a Nascent Soul ancestor, this treasure combined offense and defense, containing profound frost intent and offering immense benefits to ice-based cultivators. Beneath the surface calm, undercurrents surged. Several acknowledged prodigies in violet robes, as well as some black-robed disciples who had long secluded themselves in cultivation, were all sharpening their blades, determined to claim victory.

  As for the competition among registered disciples, it was even more brutal and direct. Only those who performed outstandingly in the Minor Tournament had a chance to be promoted to outer disciples and escape the endless drudgery of menial labor. For them, this was nearly the only path to changing their fate. Secret rivalries, information gathering, and even disgraceful tricks were far from uncommon.

  All this noise and tension seemed utterly unrelated to Yun Che, who remained curled up in the storage room, his presence nearly erased. Day after day, he immersed himself in cultivation and the practice of the Concealment Breathing Art. Once he felt he had grasped its basics—able to suppress the faint vortex of qi with a mere thought, presenting the illusion of someone who had not even completed Qi Induction—he made a decision to leave.

  This place was crowded and full of watchful eyes. His supervisory duties exposed him constantly to scrutiny, and the implicit threat behind Murong Han’s parting words lingered like a thorn in his back. He urgently needed a more concealed and secure environment to cultivate in peace.

  That day, Yun Che left the storage room and headed straight toward the area usually occupied by inner disciples, near Frost Condensation Peak. He remembered Senior Brother Zhang Mingyuan once saying that if he ever encountered an unsolvable matter, he could seek him out.

  Outside a secluded courtyard, Yun Che straightened his gray robes and called respectfully,

  “Registered disciple Yun Che requests an audience with Senior Brother Zhang Mingyuan.”

  After a moment of silence, a slightly impatient young voice replied,

  “Senior Brother Zhang is in seclusion preparing for the Frost Sword Discourse. He has no time to see you. What is it?”

  Yun Che’s heart sank slightly, but his tone remained respectful.

  “Forgive the disturbance to Senior Brother’s cultivation. This disciple believes his aptitude is low and of little use to the sect. Recently, I have had some realizations and wish to ask whether Senior Brother might permit me to descend the mountain for a period of training, and return only after achieving something.”

  “Descend the mountain?” The voice carried a hint of mockery.

  “Yun Che, have you forgotten your status? You are merely a registered disciple—do you think you can come and go as you please? Moreover, at year’s end, the sect has important affairs. All registered disciples and some outer disciples must participate in the Cold Pool Training Assembly, lasting three months, to prepare for next year’s Five Sects Border巡巡. This is a decree from the Sect Master. Trying to avoid hardship? Abandon that thought immediately!”

  “Cold Pool Training Assembly? Five Sects巡巡?” Yun Che froze. He had never heard of these matters.

  “Hmph. A grand event held once every ten years. The five major sects take turns hosting, dispatching disciples to conduct border trials and competitions—it concerns the sect’s reputation and resource allocation. Our performance last time was poor; this time, failure is unacceptable. The training assembly exists to select and temper disciples. Even if you’re of little use, as long as your name is on the roster, you must participate! If you show no improvement during training, the Disciplinary Hall will deal with you accordingly. That’s enough—leave at once and stop disturbing the peace!”

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  The speaker clearly had no intention of wasting more words. Yun Che sighed inwardly, knowing that descending the mountain was now impossible. Without further argument, he bowed and turned away.

  Back in the storage room, Yun Che frowned deeply.

  “Cold Pool Training Assembly…” The name alone sounded anything but easy. With people gathered everywhere and eyes watching, it would be even more disadvantageous for him to hide his secrets. Yet a sect decree could not be defied. For now, he could only take things step by step, seeking relatively isolated opportunities to continue cultivating during the training.

  The next day, the Minor Sect Tournament commenced as scheduled. From the direction of the martial arena came waves of shouts and the thunderous clashes of spiritual power. Yun Che did not go to watch. Instead, he seized his last scraps of freedom, immersing himself in the stone bead dreamscape to consolidate his early-stage Qi Condensation cultivation (by his own unique standards), repeatedly rehearsing the Concealment Breathing Art to ensure not the slightest flaw.

  Several days later, through scattered gossip among the menial disciples, Yun Che learned some results. Senior Brother Murong Han claimed first place in the inner sect tournament without suspense, his elegance unmatched. Meanwhile, Yun Han—true to expectations—revealed a second-layer Qi Condensation cultivation as a newly initiated disciple, overwhelming his peers and earning the title of “Rookie Champion.” It was said that Elder Daoxu was greatly pleased and rewarded him generously.

  A few more days passed.

  Early one morning, a distant and solemn bell rang throughout the mountains of the Profound Frost Sect—seven tolls in succession, the signal to assemble designated disciples.

  At the time, Yun Che was deeply immersed in comprehending a crucial point of the formula within the stone bead dreamscape and did not notice immediately. Only when the flimsy wooden door of the storage room was kicked open with a thunderous bang, wood splinters flying, did he startle awake. A furious figure surged in, wrapped in biting cold qi.

  Yun Che instantly withdrew from the stone bead, activated the Concealment Breathing Art, and opened the hidden door.

  Senior Brother Zhang Mingyuan stood there, his face icy, rage nearly solidifying in his eyes as he roared,

  “Yun Che! Are you deaf?! The assembly bell rang seven times! All disciples participating in the training are already lined up in Cold Abyss Valley, and you alone are missing! You’ve made me lose face before the elders and uncles! You… you wretched thing!”

  Yun Che’s heart tightened. Realizing the gravity of the situation, he immediately lowered his head.

  “This disciple was absorbed in cultivation and failed to notice. I accept punishment.”

  “Punishment? There’s no time for that now!” Zhang Mingyuan snapped, forcibly suppressing his anger. With the training about to begin and the Sect Master and elders present, this was no moment to discipline a disciple. Snorting coldly, he stepped forward and grabbed Yun Che by the shoulder.

  A freezing, overwhelming force surged through him, lifting him off the ground. A streak of icy-blue sword light flashed beneath Zhang Mingyuan’s feet as the two shot into the sky, the howling wind cutting Yun Che’s cheeks painfully.

  In mere moments, they descended at the entrance of a vast valley shrouded in cold mist and chilling qi. Zhang Mingyuan rudely flung Yun Che to the ground.

  Yun Che grunted. Had his body not been secretly tempered by the stone bead’s power and spirit snow water—far surpassing that of ordinary registered disciples—the fall might have broken several bones. He quickly rose and stood obediently.

  “Keep up. If you dare make even the slightest mistake again and disgrace Frost Condensation Peak…” Zhang Mingyuan stepped closer, his voice lowered but brimming with killing intent.

  “I won’t mind personally cleaning house, saving you from becoming a laughingstock later.”

  Yun Che kept his head down, his expression unreadable, and replied softly,

  “This disciple understands.”

  Zhang Mingyuan snorted heavily, turned with a sweep of his sleeve, and strode into the valley, the chill around him slightly restrained. Yun Che took a deep breath of the valley’s icy air, suppressing the turbulence in his chest, his expression returning to calm as he silently followed.

  Deep within Cold Abyss Valley, atop a vast frozen plain, several hundred disciples stood in dense formation. According to robe color, they were roughly divided into gray (registered), white (outer), and dark blue to black (inner) ranks—silent and solemn.

  On a raised ice platform ahead stood several elderly figures with auras as deep as the sea—the Sect Master of the Profound Frost Sect and several core elders. To either side, more than ten disciplinary disciples stood at attention.

  When Zhang Mingyuan led Yun Che onto the field, every gaze instantly converged upon them like hundreds of icy spears. An invisible pressure crashed down on Yun Che, tightening his breath. He dared not raise his head, only catching glimpses of the ice-sculpture-like figures on the platform and the looks below—scrutiny, curiosity, disdain, and even schadenfreude.

  He gently clenched his fists at his sides, then slowly relaxed them.

  The Cold Pool Training Assembly had officially begun.

  And the true trials—and hidden undercurrents—were only just starting.

  As the Cold Pool Training Assembly begins, Yun Che is immediately thrust into the spotlight.

  Do you think this training will bring him more danger, or more opportunity?