Lonely Cold Dream Shadow, Fated to be Ill-Starred

At night, moonlight spilled onto the window lattice of the Frost Snow Palace. Qian Lingche lay in bed, his brows slightly furrowed.

His consciousness gradually blurred, sinking into a long and oppressive dream.

In the dream, he saw his mother.

She stood in a dim room, her expression one of pain and despair. Her hands were tightly clenched at the hem of her dress, and her eyes were filled with tears.

His father's figure loomed in the shadows, stepping closer and closer, carrying a suffocating sense of oppression.

Qian Lingche wanted to rush forward to stop him, but he found himself unable to move, forced to watch everything unfold.

His mother's voice rang in his ears, filled with endless sorrow: "Why... why..."

The scene shifted, and he saw the moment of his own birth.

His mother lay weakly on the bed, her face as pale as paper, while his father and grandfather stood to the side, their gazes cold and distant.

His sister, Qian Renxue, was held in their grandfather's arms, a loving smile on her face as if she were the hope of the entire family.

But his grandfather only glanced at him indifferently before turning away.

His father was even more cold, standing to the side as if his existence were insignificant.

The dream continued. He saw that after his father's death, his grandfather said to his sister, Qian Renxue, with a majestic expression: "Xue'er, you are the future of our Qian family, and the future of Spirit Hall."

"You must go to the Heaven Dou Empire, lurk beside the eldest prince, Xue Qinghe, and find an opportunity to replace him. Infiltrate under his identity, control the Heaven Dou Empire, and coordinate with Spirit Hall from within."

"Why... why is it me..." Qian Lingche muttered to himself in the dream, his voice so low it was almost inaudible.

He did not know why he was so unwelcome, why he was always ignored, or why even his name seemed so superfluous.

His existence felt like a mistake, an accident that should never have occurred.

At the end of the dream, he stood in a void of darkness, the surroundings terrifyingly silent.

He looked down at his own hands; his palms were empty, yet they seemed to carry endless loneliness and confusion.

He wanted to shout, to question, but he found he could not make a sound.

"Qian Lingche." A strange voice rang out in the darkness, carrying a hint of curiosity.

Qian Lingche woke from the dream with a start. He sat up, his forehead covered in cold sweat.

Moonlight shone through the window onto his face, revealing his pale complexion and slightly trembling hands.

He raised a hand to rub his temples, trying to calm his emotions.

The images from the dream still lingered in his mind; those oppressive scenes and heavy emotions seemed to weigh on his heart, leaving him unable to breathe.

"Why... why..." he whispered, his voice tinged with exhaustion and confusion.

"Qian Lingche." The voice sounded again, this time with a hint of doubt.

Qian Lingche turned his head sharply, his pupils constricting. He saw a strange figure standing by his bed.

The figure was shrouded in darkness, his features unclear, with only a pair of eyes gleaming in the night.

Startled, Qian Lingche sprang from the bed. Four wings unfolded from his back, the ice-blue feathers shimmering with a dreamlike luster in the moonlight, casting a cold chill over the entire room.

He flew backward without hesitation to put distance between himself and the figure: "Who are you!"

Before the words had even faded, his first soul ring lit up, its purple light dazzling in the night.

"First Soul Skill—Angel Assault!" Twenty-four ice cones instantly formed behind him, each one radiating a biting chill, as if they could freeze anything they touched.

"Go!" Qian Lingche barked. The ice cones tore through the air with a sharp whistle, instantly engulfing the spot where the figure stood.

However, just as the ice cones were about to strike, the figure suddenly vanished.

The ice cones missed their mark, embedding themselves into the wall with a clattering sound as ice shards scattered everywhere.

Qian Lingche's heart tightened. He rose rapidly into the air, his gaze scanning the surroundings vigilantly.

His second soul ring was already primed, ready to deal with any sudden situation.

"Good reaction." The person's voice sounded again, carrying a hint of praise.

Just as Qian Lingche's second soul ring began to glow and purple light flickered around him, the figure opposite him suddenly moved.

The man waved his hand: "First Soul Skill—Time Slow!"

Instantly, a surge of blue Soul Power rushed toward Qian Lingche like a tide.

Far away in the God Realm, the Snow God Qian Shangyi was gazing at the scene in the lower realm. Watching what was happening, a trace of displeasure flashed in her eyes.

This was the successor she had chosen; she would not allow anyone to bully him.

With a gentle wave of her hand, an invisible divine power quietly surged toward Qian Lingche.

Just as Shi Yi's soul skill was about to touch Qian Lingche, a powerful shockwave suddenly erupted from his body.

In an instant, it completely shattered Shi Yi's soul skill. Shi Yi himself was sent flying by the impact, crashing to the ground and spitting out a mouthful of blood. He clutched his chest, his eyes filled with shock and disbelief.

"What... what is going on..." Shi Yi muttered to himself, staring at Qian Lingche with a complex gaze.

Qian Lingche's brows furrowed slightly. He could clearly feel a strange and powerful force suddenly present within his body, though this power seemed... very similar to the feeling the Angel God Statue gave him.

Looking at the dim surroundings, Qian Lingche snapped his fingers, the crisp sound echoing through the silent palace.

Soul Power scattered outward like starlight, instantly igniting the lamps all around.

The soft glow dispelled the darkness in an instant, illuminating the entire palace.

Only then did he clearly see the other's appearance: a silver-haired youth who looked to be no more than seventeen or eighteen years old.

His features were youthful yet exquisite, his skin as fair as jade, and while his eyes held a hint of the naivety peculiar to a boy, they were nonetheless striking and heroic.

He wore a magnificent robe inlaid with brilliant jewels that shimmered dazzlingly under the lamplight, as if he had draped the entire night sky over his shoulders.

However, Qian Lingche knew very well that the seemingly young boy before him could not possibly be only seventeen or eighteen.

To be able to sneak into his bedchamber so silently, combined with such a youthful appearance, he was likely a Title Douluo-level existence.

Qian Lingche hovered in the air, gazing down at the youth from above: "Who are you?"

As his voice fell, the surrounding temperature plummeted, and a bone-chilling cold permeated the air.

Massive Ice Cones slowly coalesced beside him, each one radiating a heart-stopping, frigid light.

Shi Yi felt that icy pressure, and for the first time, true fear sprouted in his heart; the power contained within those Ice Cones was enough to threaten his life.

Cold sweat beaded on his forehead, and his previous confidence vanished in that very moment.

Shi Yi struggled to climb up from the ground, his face full of bitterness.

He raised his hands, his tone tinged with helplessness: "Alright, alright, I surrender! Don't attack!"