The Snowcloud Crane before him measured nearly three zhang in length. Its feathers were icy blue, and the crystal set in the center of its forehead shimmered with flowing light. Standing ten zhang away, Yun Che observed carefully the icy breath that escaped as it inhaled and exhaled.

  This was no ordinary cold air. It was a pale blue mist, almost tangible, drifting from the slightly parted beak of the crane. Wherever it touched the ice platform, fine frost patterns immediately formed, faint light flowing within them.

  When Yun Che was young, living in a mountain village, he had once seen an old hunter collect cold marrow from an ice cave and use it as a medicinal catalyst, combined with herbs, to treat rheumatism and cold-induced toxins.

  His father, having ventured deep into the mountains to gather herbs in his early years to support the family, had suffered cold invading his body and been left with a lingering ailment. Whenever the weather turned damp or rainy, his joints would ache unbearably. A physician once said, “If there were a hundred-year Ice Soul as a catalyst, it might be cured at the root.”

  At the time, Yun Che had not known what a hundred-year Ice Soul was. He only remembered the sight of his father clenching his teeth in pain during each episode—an image burned deeply into his memory.

  Now, watching the icy breath exhaled by the Snowcloud Crane, Yun Che’s heart stirred.

  This spirit bird had cultivated for at least several hundred years; its ice breath was pure and refined—likely far superior to any so-called hundred-year Ice Soul. If he could collect even a small portion, it might be possible to refine a pill capable of eradicating his father’s old illness.

  However, the Snowcloud Crane was a Foundation Establishment–level spirit beast. Any misstep could result in backlash from the ice breath itself, with fatal consequences.

  Suddenly, Yun Che recalled a folk remedy from his village: to extract cold marrow without harming the body, one must temper it with warming herbs and draw it out gradually.

  With that thought, Yun Che no longer hesitated. He turned and headed toward the alchemy hall. Senior Brother Zhang Mingyuan had once mentioned that the hall stored various basic herbs—likely sufficient for his needs. Moreover, it had been four years since he last saw Wang Hao; this would be a good opportunity to inquire about his situation.

  By the time Yun Che reached the alchemy hall, night had already fallen. Just as he arrived outside the courtyard, a side door quietly opened, and a round-faced figure slipped out furtively—it was Wang Hao.

  Upon seeing Yun Che, Wang Hao hurriedly raised a finger to his lips, signaling him to step back. Yun Che swept the area with his divine sense and found that inside the alchemy hall, a steward disciple was fully absorbed in controlling the fire to refine pills, completely unaware of their presence.

  Only after retreating several dozen zhang did Wang Hao finally relax. Lowering his voice, he said excitedly,

  “Yun Che! Four years—it’s been four years! How are you? What level of Qi Condensation are you at now?” His tone brimmed with barely concealed pride.

  “Third level,” Yun Che replied calmly. At the same time, his divine sense quietly examined Wang Hao’s body. His heart tightened slightly—Wang Hao had indeed stepped into Qi Condensation, but the circulation of his spiritual energy was extremely strange. It did not follow the orthodox cycle of the Profound Frost Qi Condensation Art. Each time the energy completed a circuit, it siphoned a trace of essence from his internal organs and fused it into the flow. The progress was rapid, yet faintly sinister.

  Noticing Yun Che’s gaze, Wang Hao chuckled.

  “You noticed, huh? This is a secret technique I obtained at great cost. Once I’ve fully refined it, I’ll explain it to you.” He rubbed his hands together and changed the subject. “Right—why were you looking for me?”

  Yun Che looked at him deeply, temporarily suppressing his doubts, and explained his need for warming herbs.

  Wang Hao slapped his chest.

  “Leave it to me! The alchemy hall lacks many things, but basic herbs? Plenty!” His eyes rolled, and he added, “But… you’ll need to help me with a small favor.”

  “What is it?” Yun Che asked.

  “The grand exchange in three days—the Snow Domain Alliance will definitely pull tricks. I’ve recently come up with something interesting—” Wang Hao pulled out an ice-blue sphere from his robes, no larger than a longan, its surface covered in dense patterns. “This is called Cold Toad Tears. Crush it and it explodes into icy mist. It won’t injure anyone, but anyone touched will be slowed for three breaths. If you can find a way to use it during the exchanges…”

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  Yun Che shook his head.

  “This is not the righteous path.”

  “Oh, come on—it’s not harming anyone!” Wang Hao protested. “We low-level Qi Condensation disciples—if we’re up against fifth or sixth level opponents, shouldn’t we have some way to protect ourselves?”

  Yun Che was silent for a moment, then said,

  “There’s no need to trouble yourself with the herbs.”

  “Don’t, don’t!” Wang Hao quickly grabbed him. “I was joking! I’ll get the herbs for you—same time tomorrow, right here. Everything will be ready.”

  Only then did Yun Che nod, adding a final warning,

  “That technique you’re cultivating… if it feels wrong, stop early.”

  Wang Hao waved dismissively and slipped back into the alchemy hall.

  Watching his retreating figure, Yun Che frowned slightly. Just as he was about to leave, loud noises drifted over from the direction of the guest quarters.

  Expanding his divine sense slightly, he heard a flamboyant voice hawking goods:

  “…This Ice Soul Radiance Mirror is a replica of our Snow Domain Alliance’s treasured artifact! Though it possesses less than one ten-thousandth of the original’s power, even a single glance can temporarily dim the spiritual glow of ordinary artifacts for three breaths! Whoever trades for it must swear a heart oath—absolutely no use during the grand exchange, or suffer heavenly retribution!”

  Yun Che walked closer and saw some twenty to thirty disciples from both sects gathered in the open area before the guest quarters. At the center stood a Snow Domain Alliance disciple in his early twenties, square-faced with thick brows, wearing an air of upright righteousness. In his hands was a palm-sized crystal mirror, icy and translucent, faint light swirling across its surface.

  Nearby, Snow Domain Alliance disciples wore awkward expressions. One coughed lightly.

  “Junior Brother Li Shan speaks truthfully—the Ice Soul Radiance Mirror is indeed a treasured artifact of our alliance. However…” He hesitated. “…the one in his hands is, well, a replica of a replica. It merely resembles the original in appearance.”

  Several Profound Frost Sect disciples murmured among themselves. Soon, a Zhao-surnamed disciple at the fifth level of Qi Condensation stepped forward. After a brief private exchange with Li Shan, he produced several low-grade spirit stones, completing the transaction.

  “A chunk of broken ice crystal inlaid with a few strands of Illusory Light Silk, and you dare call it a replica artifact? Snow Domain Alliance disciples—hardly impressive,” someone sneered.

  Li Shan was completely unbothered, grinning broadly.

  “Sharp eyes, Senior Brother! But didn’t you still buy it? Hang it at home as decoration—it looks quite grand!”

  The Zhao-surnamed disciple laughed loudly.

  “I bought it to take home for my mother to use as a dressing mirror! She loves shiny things like this.”

  Laughter erupted.

  Li Shan then produced another item—a pigeon-egg-sized gray sphere, rough-surfaced, emitting a strange odor.

  “This is my exclusive creation—the Filthy Yin-Smearing Thunder Pellet!” he declared proudly. “It’s not very powerful, but once it explodes, it releases a cloud of foul mist. Touch it, and your clothes are stained with a stench that won’t dissipate for three days! The perfect tool for sparring, discussion, and sabotaging opponents!”

  With that, he hurled the sphere toward a distant ice wall.

  Boom.

  A dull explosion sounded as a patch of gray-black filth spread across the wall. A pungent stench diffused instantly. Several female disciples retreated while covering their noses, faces filled with disgust.

  “Well?” Li Shan said smugly. “This odor is refined from the glandular fluids of over a dozen northern vicious beasts. Once it gets on you, even cleansing techniques can’t fully remove it! Buy one—throw it at a critical moment, and I guarantee your opponent’s mentality will completely collapse!”

  The crowd exchanged uneasy looks.

  Yun Che swept the gray sphere with his divine sense, his expression turning subtly strange. At its core was embedded a faint strand of icy breath—of the same origin as that exhaled by the Snowcloud Crane, though far more impure.

  The Snow Domain Alliance disciples looked embarrassed, yet none spoke to stop Li Shan. Observing closely, Yun Che noticed their gazes toward him were complex—three parts helplessness, seven parts wariness.

  Li Shan suddenly turned serious.

  “Same rules as always—absolutely no using these during the grand exchange. Otherwise, don’t blame me for turning hostile!”

  In truth, he was laughing inwardly. The more I say this, the more these competitive fools will use it at a critical moment. When foul mist fills the arena and stench rises, the elders’ expressions will be priceless. When I return, the elders will be pleased—how could the rewards be small?

  After watching for a while, Yun Che quietly withdrew.

  Midway along his path, the Snowcloud Crane feathers in his robes suddenly grew warm. He took them out and saw faint light flowing at their roots, subtly resonating with the light motes deep within his dantian vortex.

  A thought stirred. Yun Che carefully drew out an almost imperceptible strand of icy breath from his fingertips and guided it into the crane feather.

  The feather trembled lightly. Rippling patterns of light spread across its surface, expanding outward to condense into a thin, cicada-wing-like phantom of an ice mirror in the air. It existed for only three breaths before dissipating—yet it was enough to make Yun Che’s heart pound.

  “These crane feathers…” he murmured thoughtfully.

  In the distance, Li Shan continued shouting energetically. The rising wind and snow gradually swallowed the noise.

  Yun Che stored the feathers away and looked toward the direction of the Cold Abyss Secret Realm.

  Tomorrow, he would gather the herbs.

  The day after, he would attempt to draw in the ice breath.

  If successful, his father’s illness might finally be cured.

  If he failed…

  He clenched the stone bead tightly, determination flashing in his eyes.

  On a snowy night, the young man walked alone.

  The crane feathers in his chest were faintly warm, silently echoing his resolve.

  cultivation with his father.

  Strength is no longer just about survival—it becomes a way to reclaim what he once had no power to protect.

  may seem lighthearted or even absurd, yet together they reveal a far more complex and realistic cultivation world.

  ?? Will the Snowcloud Crane’s feather become Yun Che’s first true trump card?

  ?? Is Wang Hao’s path a hidden advantage—or a ticking time bomb?

  ?? If you were facing the competition, would you use “gray-area” tactics to survive?

  Every discussion you start becomes part of this story’s journey.