Seven more days passed.
Xu Qian had completely adapted to the rhythm of life in Ice Prison. Four hours on duty, four hours cultivating, and four hours resting each day. Although his sleep was cut to the bare minimum, the nourishment of Longevity True Qi kept his spirits up, and he didn't feel tired at all.
More importantly, after all these days of "balancing ice and fire" in his cultivation, his control over his true qi had improved by leaps and bounds.
Now he could gather cold qi in his left hand and build up yang-infused true qi in his right, all while sparing a wisp of his attention to observe his surroundings. This ability to "do several things at once" would be invaluable in a real fight.
That morning, it was Xu Qian's turn to clean the storeroom in Ice Prison.
The storeroom lay in the deepest part of the underground floor. It was a vast chamber of ice, piled high with all kinds of junk: broken torture implements, discarded shackles, outdated documents and records, and other rubbish confiscated from who knew where.
"No one's touched this stuff in decades." Old Li, the guard leading the way, yawned. "Just give it a quick clean and dust everything off. Remember, don't go rummaging around. Some of this stuff is downright eerie."
Xu Qian nodded in acknowledgment.
After giving his instructions, Old Li left, leaving Xu Qian alone in the icehouse.
The icehouse was even colder than outside, at least thirty degrees below zero. Thick layers of ice covered the walls and ceiling, with dimly glowing, blue crystals embedded in them.
Xu Qian breathed out a cloud of white vapor and got to work.
He started at the outermost area, using an ice shovel and a broom to clear away the