The snowy scene was desolate and clear. A scattered wind blew, sending his ink-black hair flying and making his black robe billow fiercely.
Xiang Yang traveled alone with his saber along the vast snow road. His figure flickered in and out of sight, hidden amidst the wind and snow. He moved as swiftly as flight, using Shrinking Ground into Inches, heading straight for Purple Cloud Peak, the main summit of Great Snow Ridge.
After days of open and secret investigation, questioning Chu Canglan's birth parents, visiting the valley where his fortuitous encounter had taken place, and hearing legendary tales of that valley among the common folk, Xiang Yang had pieced together a few clues through half-guesswork. He was now planning to seek confirmation from Xue Manyun.
"When the sliver of primordial spirit power I left inside the wooden comb erupted, I took the chance to hide myself on Xue Manyun. I only hope that this 'Chu Canglan' has not discovered her yet."
Within a wooden cabin in the snowy bamboo grove, Xue Manyun wore a tight plain-colored robe. Her unpainted face alternated between flushed red and bluish white as her hands formed seals before her chest, guiding her qi back to its origin.
Outside her mouth and nose, crystalline spiritual qi like white sand expanded and contracted with every breath. Bit by bit, it merged into Xue Manyun's body, like sweet rain nourishing parched earth and repairing the injuries she had suffered last time.
"Huff."
Xue Manyun stopped circulating her cultivation. Seeing Ning Xue sitting in the butterfly-patterned high-backed chair with unfocused pupils and lifeless eyes, clearly wandering far from herself, she quietly shook her head.
Since the incident, Ning Xue had still failed to recover from the pain and blow. Yet what could Xue Manyun demand of a young