Snowy Night Healing, the Pseudo-Primordial Body Begins to Take Shape

The wind and snow still howled, but my consciousness no longer drifted. The cold at the bottom of Dragon-Severing Cliff had nearly frozen me stiff, yet the faint warm current deep within my Sea of Consciousness had never dispersed. Like a thin thread, it pulled me back from the brink of death bit by bit.

I moved my fingers, leaving a shallow mark in the snow with my fingertips. Afu was gone, the Medicine Bottle was empty, and the pursuers would not return. Now, only I could save myself.

A piercing pain shot from the fracture in my left arm. I clenched my teeth, braced myself against the ground with my elbow, and inched forward. Every movement felt as though my ribs were being sliced by blades. I had long since bitten through my tongue, and the taste of blood filled my mouth. Only that sting kept me from passing out.

Half a li—normally a single step away—now seemed to stretch across a thousand mountains and myriad rivers. I crawled through the snow, leaving a faint trail of blood behind me. The cold wind hurled snow grains against my face, each one pricking like a needle. But I could not stop.

I knew where I could hide.

At the edge of the Ji Clan's Forbidden Ground lay a crack in an ancient formation. It sealed the leaking Remnant Dao all year round, and its fluctuations could disrupt spiritual-sense detection. So long as I could enter, even if Ji Hantian personally led the search, he would never find me.

At last, the familiar crack in the rocks appeared before me. With the last shred of my strength, I climbed over the side of the cliff and rolled deep into the fissure. My body slammed against the stone, shaking my organs until they trembled, but I had no time to care. Curled up in the corner of the crevice, I pressed my back tightly against a warm bluish stone—the Formation Eye, protected by faint ripples of Spiritual Energy.

The wind and snow roared outside, but within, the silence was eerie. I could sense scattered fragments of power drifting through the air, like broken shards of laws trembling softly in the darkness.

The system was still operating.

The moment that Residual Dao Power approached me, an invisible force drew it into my body. The Heaven-Slaying Origin began to condense. It was no longer the barely-there trickle from the previous chapter, but something with true substance. It flowed slowly through my meridians, avoiding the severely damaged areas and seeping first into my broken spine.

I closed my eyes and guided that power. In my Sea of Consciousness, it felt as though countless spider threads were weaving together, each connected to a wound somewhere in my body. Golden patterns quietly emerged and spread across the surface of my bones, faint as could be, yet tough as iron.

The Pseudo-Primordial Body was taking shape.

My body temperature began to rise, and feeling returned to my frozen fingers. Though my wounds still seeped blood, the flow had clearly slowed. I could feel this body rejecting the cold—not through Spiritual Power, but through a more primal, more essential transformation.

But I knew I could not relax yet.

The closer I came to recovery, the deeper I had to hide. The instant anyone noticed I was improving, it would bring a fatal disaster down upon me.

I suppressed the increasingly active aura within me and forced myself to slow my breathing, letting my complexion turn pale once more. My heartbeat dropped to its lowest point, my limbs slackened, and I became like a cripple who could stop breathing at any moment.

Before long, footsteps sounded in the distance.

It was Afu.

He stumbled over the piled snow, clutching a rough earthenware bowl to his chest, covered with a rag. When he drew close, I smelled coarse grain porridge and caught a faint trace of warmth.

"Young Master... are you still alive?" He crouched down, his voice trembling. He reached out as if to touch me, then did not dare. "I stole some porridge while no one was in the kitchen... Hurry, take a sip."

I did not open my eyes or respond. I merely parted my lips slightly and let him carefully feed me a spoonful of warm porridge.

It was scalding. But I did not pull away.

When I swallowed, my throat burned as though I had swallowed a lump of charcoal. Afu watched with tears streaming down his face as he fed me, whispering, "Don't die... If you die, then I really won't have any hope left..."

I still did not move. Inwardly, I only counted the rhythm of his feeding.

Just as the third spoonful entered my mouth, I suddenly raised my right hand. The movement was slow but firm as I gripped his wrist. He jumped in fright, nearly dropping the bowl.

Using all my strength, I dissolved the last Life-Extending Pill hidden beneath my tongue, swallowing it down with the next mouthful of porridge. Then I stared at him, my voice so hoarse it was nearly inaudible.

"Starting tomorrow... our act... must be more convincing."

When the words fell, I released his hand and let my head loll to one side, as though every scrap of strength had been drained from me.

Afu froze. He looked at me, his lips moving without a word coming out. After a moment, he set the bowl on the ground, then, with trembling hands, tucked in the corner of my clothes. In a low voice, he said, "Rest assured, Young Master. I know what to do."

He rose to his feet and turned to leave.

The instant he took a step, my eyelids lifted by an imperceptible fraction.

He knew? What did he know?

I was not sure whether he truly understood what I meant or had merely agreed out of instinct. But it did not matter. As long as he kept acting, that was enough. He would play the foolish servant in the estate, weeping over his master's tragic fate, while I would play a cripple outside with little time left to live. Only by working together could we survive this chess game.

The wind and snow grew fiercer.

I listened as Afu's footsteps gradually faded, eventually disappearing into the night. Silence returned to the stone fissure, with only the Formation Eye's bluish stone still radiating faint warmth.

I slowly opened my eyes.

Deep within my pupils, a trace of pale golden light flashed.

The Heaven-Slaying Origin had stabilized, and its first wisp had fully solidified. The embryonic Pseudo-Primordial Body covered my spine and shoulder blades, while my broken bones healed at a pace invisible to the naked eye. I could feel strength returning—not Spiritual Power, but a steadier, more restrained support.

But it was still not enough.

I raised a hand and lightly touched my left cheek. A faint red scar lay there, one that had remained ever since the system bound itself to me. At that moment, it was slightly hot, as though something flowed beneath the skin.

I withdrew my hand and leaned back against the rock once more.

The outside world was still hunting me. Ji Hantian must have believed I was already dead. But they did not know that true danger had never been one to flaunt itself.

I closed my eyes and continued suppressing my aura.

Within my Sea of Consciousness, the Heaven-Slaying Origin flowed quietly like a stream, continuously absorbing the Residual Dao Power leaking from the surroundings. With every absorption, the golden patterns extended another fraction. This body was transforming—silently, yet irreversibly.

After an unknown amount of time, a faint tremor came through the ground.

Someone was approaching.

I immediately withdrew all my senses and returned my breathing to its dying state. My temperature dropped, my muscles loosened, and even my heartbeat nearly stopped.

The footsteps halted ten paces outside the fissure.

A black figure stood amid the wind and snow. He neither entered nor left. He remained there, as though listening for something, or perhaps confirming something.

I did not move.

He stood there for a while before turning away.

His boots crunched over the snow, the sound fading farther and farther into the distance.

I remained where I lay, my expression calm, as though I had never awakened.

Yet beneath the back I could not see, the golden pattern condensed from the Heaven-Slaying Origin slowly extended to my waist, like a dormant dragon quietly unfurling its body.