Yun Che stood at the entrance of the ice cave and drew in a deep breath of the biting cold air.

  Over these four years, he had pushed the Void Light Realm to true grand perfection as early as his second year in seclusion. The vortex within his dantian—fused with specks of void light—had condensed to a mercury-like density, poised on the brink of qualitative transformation at any moment. In the two years that followed, he attempted thirty-seven Foundation Establishment breakthroughs, yet each time, a subtle imbalance in the circulation of spiritual energy caused him to fail at the final step.

  Still, those repeated failures were not without benefit.

  The instability in his cultivation—caused by the Heaven-Defying Pearl and numerous fortuitous encounters—had been thoroughly tempered and solidified. Now, even when running his Concealment Art, the aura he leaked stabilized around Qi Condensation Eighth Layer. He was no longer the menial disciple who once appeared to possess only three layers of cultivation.

  “Foundation Establishment…”

  Yun Che murmured softly, a trace of resolve flashing through his eyes.

  He slapped his storage pouch. A longsword flew out, its entire body ice-blue, frost patterns flowing faintly along the blade. The sword was called Frostscar. It was the highest-grade item among the spoils he had obtained four years ago from Snow Domain Alliance disciples like Zhou Yue—a mid-grade magical artifact. Though it could not compare to the former Frostsplendor Noble Sword in terms of spiritual intelligence, it made up for it with toughness and a far better affinity with his ice-attribute spiritual energy.

  As if alive, Frostscar circled him once before hovering steadily at his side.

  Yun Che stepped onto the sword. With a flick of his will, the blade erupted in icy-blue radiance, carrying him skyward as he transformed into a streak of light that tore across the heavens.

  Only after that heart-palpitating aura vanished into the distance did the trembling beasts below dare to whimper and scatter in all directions.

  Riding his sword, Yun Che cut through the fierce winds. He deliberately avoided the former site of the Profound Frost Sect—now firmly within the Snow Domain Alliance’s territory—and instead flew northeast. Below him stretched endless ice plains, snow-laden forests, and scattered northern villages that rapidly shrank and slipped past beneath his flight.

  When the outline of Hanshan Town appeared at the edge of his vision, Yun Che’s figure faltered slightly.

  He gazed at the familiar rooftops in silence for several breaths. In the end, he did not descend. Instead, he urged his speed even faster and disappeared into the clouds without looking back.

  The southwestern corner of the Northern Region—where the Profound Frost Sect once stood—had always been a barren and frigid land, with mortal settlements mostly limited to villages and small towns. Yun Che’s destination this time lay nearly two thousand li away, in the heart of the Northern Region:

  Winterfall City.

  It was the largest—and most prosperous—mortal city in the entire Northern Region. Legend had it that its walls rose twenty zhang high, cast from mystic ice mixed with refined steel, capable of withstanding a full-force strike from a Foundation Establishment cultivator. Ten thousand Ice-Armored soldiers of the Northern Alliance were stationed there. It was also a vital trade hub linking north and south, where cultivators and mortals coexisted, and auction houses, pill halls, and artifact workshops lined the streets.

  In his youth, Yun Che had heard old escorts in Hanshan Town speak of Winterfall City with reverence—its towering crystal-ice gates, underground hot springs that never froze, and the “immortals” who could fly through the sky. Back then, he had been a boy who knew nothing of cultivation. His greatest dream was simply to master carpentry, open a shop in the city one day, and bring his parents there to live comfortably.

  Thinking of those past days, Yun Che’s lips curved faintly—then turned into a soft sigh.

  Sword light streaked like a rainbow toward the northeast.

  Seven days later, Yun Che stood on an icebound trade route buried beneath thick snow, his brows drawn together.

  As far as the eye could see, the land was a vast expanse of white. Several distant ice peaks shared nearly identical outlines, making it impossible to discern direction. He had already wandered around the area for half a day, yet still failed to find the Winterfall Grand Road that the old escort had described as “winding like the spine of a colossal beast.”

  “You’ve been flying for seven days,” Li Han’s voice mocked openly,

  “I thought you knew the way. Turns out you’re blind as a bat.”

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  Yun Che’s expression remained calm.

  “If you didn’t insist on having me check every ice ravine for Mystic Ice Jade Marrow, I wouldn’t have deviated from the main route.”

  “Mystic Ice Jade Marrow is one of the auxiliary materials for refining Foundation Establishment pills,” Li Han retorted righteously.

  “Miss it, and where are you going to find another? Besides, that beast-skin map in your pouch looks like a child’s scribbles. Who are you blaming?”

  Yun Che was about to respond when he suddenly fell silent, his gaze shifting toward the distant end of the trade road.

  A long caravan was slowly approaching from beyond the horizon.

  The convoy consisted of over thirty specially designed wide-wheeled ice sled wagons, each pulled by massive, well-fed snow camels. Deep tracks were carved into the snow behind them. Dozens of mounted guards flanked the sides, all clad in thick leather coats, blades at their waists, their auras sharp and battle-hardened.

  At the head rode a man in his forties, his face weathered by Northern winds and snow, features sharp and resolute. His eyes gleamed with restrained intensity, his temples slightly bulging—clear signs that his external cultivation had reached an advanced level. His name was Xu Zhen, chief escort of Zhenbei Escort Agency in Winterfall City. His signature Ice-Breaking Palm was renowned across the northern underworld; common bandits fled at the mere sound of his name.

  This shipment was no ordinary cargo.

  It comprised three chests of Sunwarm Jade, entrusted by a cultivation clan. Warm in nature, the jade could ward off cold toxins and was extremely beneficial to cultivators of fire- or yang-attribute techniques. Its value was high enough to tempt even Core Formation cultivators. The agency’s owner had personally invited Xu Zhen out of retirement to escort the cargo from Winterfall City to Blazing Flame Valley on the northern frontier. The delivery was complete—this was their return journey.

  Xu Zhen rested his eyes slightly, finally easing his mind. Though they had encountered several groups of foolish bandits along the way, his reputation alone had driven them off. The most dangerous moment was when they ran into the fierce Snow Wolf Alliance—who retreated unwillingly after spotting the black-iron command token at his waist.

  “Boss Xu,” a lean young man beside him grinned,

  “After this run, the owner’s gotta give the brothers at least twenty percent extra, right?”

  His name was Zhao Rui, one of the agency’s most promising young escorts.

  A burly, dark-faced man named Hong Lei chimed in,

  “Exactly! One piece of Sunwarm Jade is worth a hundred taels of gold. We escorted three whole chests—just a bit leaking through the boss’s fingers would be enough for a fat year!”

  Xu Zhen shot them a glare.

  “When has the owner ever shortchanged you lot? Do your jobs properly—your rewards won’t be lacking!”

  Zhao Rui chuckled and was about to say more when his expression suddenly turned serious.

  “Boss Xu—someone’s on the road ahead.”

  Xu Zhen focused his gaze.

  Sure enough, about a hundred zhang ahead, a lone figure stood in the middle of the trade road. The man wore a plain gray robe, his posture upright—strikingly conspicuous against the vast snowfield.

  “Zhao Rui,” Xu Zhen said solemnly,

  “Go ask what’s going on. If he’s a lost traveler, give him some food and travel money. The Northern snows show no mercy—help when you can.”

  Zhao Rui acknowledged and spurred his snow camel forward. But instead of slowing down, he yanked the reins sharply as he neared the man. The camel reared up, snow spraying everywhere, and halted barely three feet from the figure—a deliberate display meant to intimidate.

  Xu Zhen frowned slightly.

  Zhao Rui was capable, but his temperament was too showy.

  Hong Lei grinned.

  “This kid’s camel handling just keeps getting flashier!”

  The man standing in the road was Yun Che.

  Watching the camel charge toward him at full speed, Yun Che remained calm—he didn’t even blink.

  Zhao Rui finally saw his face clearly. The man was around twenty, handsome and composed, utterly unmoved by the risky maneuver. Zhao Rui felt a subtle chill in his heart. He cupped his fists and called out loudly:

  “I am Zhao Rui of Zhenbei Escort Agency, Winterfall City! Friend, why are you blocking the road—what guidance do you seek?”

  Yun Che glanced at him and returned the salute.

  “My name is Yun Che. This is my first long journey, and I lost my way. May I ask which direction leads to Winterfall City?”

  Zhao Rui froze for a moment and examined him carefully. Seeing Yun Che’s fair hands, lack of martial calluses, and unremarkable temples, he relaxed and smiled.

  “Winterfall City? You’re close already. May I ask what brings Brother Yun there?”

  By then, the caravan had drawn near. Xu Zhen called out,

  “Zhao Rui, what’s the situation?”

  Zhao Rui turned his camel around and replied loudly,

  “Boss Xu, just a young man who got lost—asking for directions to Winterfall City!”

  Xu Zhen urged his mount forward, his sharp eyes sweeping over Yun Che. With decades of experience on the road, he could not discern any martial cultivation from the young man—but the calm bearing, standing unfazed in such deadly cold, marked him as anything but ordinary.

  “May I ask your name?” Xu Zhen asked in a deep voice.

  Yun Che cupped his fists once more.

  “My name is Yun Che. I’ve only just left home to travel and lost my bearings in the ice plains. If Escort Leader can offer some guidance, I would be most grateful.”

  Xu Zhen stared at him for a few breaths, then said,

  “From here, head northeast along the trade road for another three hundred li. When you see three ice peaks arranged like the character pin (品), turn right—that’s the Winterfall Grand Road. Follow it straight for a day, and you’ll reach the city.”

  Yun Che committed it to memory and bowed.

  “Many thanks, Escort Leader.”

  Xu Zhen nodded—but did not leave immediately. Instead, he asked,

  “Young Brother Yun, traveling alone on the ice plains—is dangerous. Would you like to accompany us? Our agency is returning to Winterfall City as well. It’s safer together.”

  Yun Che hesitated slightly.

  Before he could answer, Zhao Rui cut in,

  “Boss Xu, bringing along someone of unknown origin—”

  “Enough.”

  Xu Zhen shot him a glance, then looked back at Yun Che.

  “Well?”

  Yun Che’s gaze swept over the caravan, then toward the boundless snowfields to the northeast. Finally, he smiled faintly.

  “Then I’ll trouble you.”