West Ridge Snow Mountain's Eternal Snow

"Windows frame the eternal snow of the West Ridge; by the gate lies a boat bound ten thousand miles east to Wu."

Du Fu's famous quatrain had been handed down through the ages, making West Ridge Snow Mountain renowned throughout the world. Yet romance and reality were separated by no more than a sheet of paper.

The frost, wind, rain, and snow were all right there. Whether one was delighted by external things or saddened by oneself—whether it was the cruelty of reality or the expression of poetry—all depended on one's state of mind.

At the very least, Li Yan and the others were in no mood for it now.

The biting wind howled, carrying pellets of ice with it.

Blowing straight into their faces, it beat against their skin until it smarted.

Li Yan stopped, shook the snow from his sheepskin hat, and looked around.

All around them, the snow gleamed like silver, and their breath froze into ice. Three sides were sheer cliffs soaring a thousand ren, leaving only a single narrow path winding toward the mountaintop.

In the distance, the mountaintop seemed covered by an iron-gray shell of ice. Snow that never melted had congealed into crystal glaze hanging low.

Under the densely overcast sky, it shimmered with a dim blue-green radiance.

"This is Da Xue Tang."

The Bai family woman leading the way turned and explained.

Many of these women had pursued Gu poison arts, but their aptitude had fallen short, resulting in backlash and the appearance of poisonous sores on their faces.

Back in Dachang Ancient City, they had been highly guarded. All dressed in white and veiled in white gauze, they had declared that anyone who removed their veils would either marry them or die.

Now, however, they had all joined Water Moon Convent.