Time drifted on, slowly passing.
Before he knew it, 127 years had gone by. Drawn farther in by the planet's gravity, Jiang Ding fell onto the ice covering its surface. A cold wind blew, coating him in a thin layer of frost.
Layer upon layer of frost.
Several years later, frost had covered him completely, burying him deep within a glacier that had not melted in countless ages.
Cold winds swept across the frozen planet. For a long time, nothing changed. The ice kept thickening and thickening, and before anyone knew it, several more decades had passed.
That year, a volcano suddenly erupted. Its immense force shattered the ice, bringing things buried deep underground to the surface.
Rivers of lava flowed over the ice, melting ravines through it. Vast clouds of steam rose into white mist, only to freeze into ice crystals in the bitter cold, dozens of degrees below zero. The crystals fell into the lava and vaporized again, the cycle repeating endlessly.
In one lava river, a person-sized piece of obsidian tumbled downstream. After traveling some distance, it came to rest on the ice beside the river and lay there quietly.
Time passed. Several more years went by.
The lava river cooled and solidified beneath the ice once more, leaving only the trace of a black riverbed. Frost covered it again, along with the person-sized obsidian.
Crack!
That day, the obsidian split open, revealing a young man in azure robes. He opened his eyes, his gaze calm.
"Fellow Daoist, it's only been 157 years, and you already couldn't hold on?"
"Useless."
Jiang Ding spoke flatly.
He looked inward at his soul. Deep within it, the butterfly's shadow, which he had thought had dissipated completely, had appeared again. It was exceedingly weak and tiny, hidden in an inconspicuous corner