The night was deep and still.
Xu Qian sat cross-legged on the cold stone bed, his consciousness sinking into the depths of his Sea of Consciousness.
Ever since discovering the palm print on the ice wall three days ago, the remnant intent of the icy palm had lingered in his mind. It was manageable while he was on duty during the day, but whenever night grew deep and still, that frigid conception would surface on its own, faintly resonating with his Longevity True Qi—not merging, but attracting even as they opposed each other.
Like the two poles of a magnet: seemingly repulsive, yet closely bound.
Tonight, Xu Qian decided to face this palm intent directly.
He closed his eyes. In his Sea of Consciousness, the golden orb representing the Dao Fruit began to turn slowly. It was Xu Qian's greatest asset since crossing into this world—a mysterious entity capable of deducing cultivation arts and analyzing all things.
In the past, the Dao Fruit only deduced things passively when he encountered a complete cultivation art or hit a bottleneck. But this time, Xu Qian wanted to try taking the initiative.
"Analyze the palm print on the ice wall."
As his thought stirred, golden light blazed through his Sea of Consciousness.
Every detail of the indistinct palm print on the ice wall was completely "read" by the Dao Fruit—the direction of the cracks, the paths along which the cold qi flowed, the depth of the palm's indentation...
These details had originally been only vague impressions, but under the Dao Fruit's analysis, they gradually grew clear and were rearranged, eventually becoming a series of profound patterns that spread across his Sea of Consciousness.
Xu Qian "saw" how the palm print had formed:
A pale hand, its palm filled with the utmost cold. When