To the north of the Western Regions—Moon Frost Peak.
Snowflakes drifted down from the heavens in a swirling dance, as if a celestial maiden had torn white paper into countless pieces and scattered them across the mortal world.
Thousands of mountains and valleys were covered in flawless white, like a vast sheet of Cheng Xin Tang paper upon which an Immortal had dipped a brush in white ink and swept it across the page, painting an endless expanse of silver.
In the distance, several ancient pines occasionally let out a soft "puff" as they buckled beneath the weight of the snow, sending down clumps of it like clouds and stirring up a little white powder.
Nearby, a tall, straight-backed man stood at the peak, calmly gazing at the heavens.
"Migu, migu."
Little Chaos lay atop Wang Xin's head, its body already covered in a layer of snow.
It shook itself like a puppy, scattering the snow from its body, then turned to look earnestly at its master standing by the cliff's edge.
Little Chaos turned around again to look at Wang Xin and saw how tense its mistress was. She didn't even dare breathe too loudly.
"Migu."
Little Chaos rubbed its face against Wang Xin's, as if trying to comfort her.
"I know." Wang Xin held Little Chaos in her arms. "I believe Xiao Mo will be all right. He definitely will."
But as Wang Xin said this, she couldn't help tightening her hold on Chaos, as if those words hadn't been meant for Little Chaos at all, but were meant to comfort herself.
Over the past two years, Xiao Mo had fought numerous cultivators of the Upper Three Realms, constantly testing his Dao.
In the process, Xiao Mo had killed countless cultivators, suffered countless injuries, and teetered on the