Skyfrost Dragon Ice

Eastsea Academy's soul-guided bus slowly came to a stop at the edge of the plaza inside the academy's main gates. Following the crowd, Tang Wulin and Gu Yuena stepped off with the other hopeful new students and their parents. A capable-looking female guide in the academy uniform had already been waiting there. With a professionally warm smile, she began introducing the academy's history and glory to the visitors.

"Parents and students, welcome to Eastsea Academy! Our academy was founded..." The guide's clear voice echoed across the plaza as she recounted the academy's long heritage. Yet to Tang Wulin and Gu Yuena, her voice gradually became indistinct background noise. Their attention had already been drawn to this academy that was both familiar and strange.

Just as the guide passionately declared, "Over the past ten thousand years, our academy's four most outstanding alumni have been the four pillars supporting its glory—Golden Dragon Moon Speech Tang Wulin, Silver Dragon Wulin Gu Yuena, Twin Dragon Night Radiance Xie Xie, and Starry Sky True Universe Xu Xiaoyan!" Tang Wulin and Gu Yuena exchanged a glance and nodded faintly in mutual understanding.

The next instant, their figures became blurred and transparent at the edge of the bustling crowd, like drops of ink dissolving into water, before silently vanishing altogether. No one noticed them, and not even the slightest spatial ripple was produced. They used a trace of divine power to conceal their existence. Like two ghosts walking through the cracks of reality, they left the tour group and began wandering alone across this land that carried so much of their youth and past.

The academy's overall layout had miraculously retained the rough outline it had possessed ten thousand years ago. Those old stone paths, the great field once used for assemblies, the old teaching buildings with red brick walls hidden among verdant trees... everything carried a familiarity that transcended time. Of course, the changes were immense as well. Towering skyscrapers filled with the feel of modern soul-guided technology stood everywhere—new laboratories, high-level simulated cultivation halls, and soul tool research centers.

But the most eye-catching sight was undoubtedly the four enormous statues standing at the very center of the plaza behind the academy gates, each one magnificent and lifelike beyond compare.

They were more exquisite and artistically evocative than the statues in Shrek City's plaza, as though they embodied all the reverence and remembrance the people of Eastsea City had gathered over ten thousand years.

Tang Wulin's statue had black hair that seemed to flutter in the wind. He held the Golden Dragon Spear, its tip angled toward the heavens. His features were resolute, yet a faint, sunny smile belonging to a young man lingered at the corners of his mouth. Every fold of his battle armor radiated strength, as though he might come alive the next second and unleash an earth-shaking dragon roar.

Gu Yuena's statue had silver hair flowing like moonlight and deep violet eyes gazing into the distance. Around her fingertips lingered eternally frozen elemental radiance carved from special crystals. Her figure was graceful, possessing both a woman's beauty and a queen's elegance and mystery. Her skirts drifted as if she might ride the wind away at any moment.

Xie Xie's statue captured his most iconic moment—his body leaning slightly forward, an irreverent smile on his face, while his gaze was sharp as an eagle's. He held a short blade in each hand in reverse grip. His agile frame brimmed with speed and explosive power, as though he were unleashing his unfathomable spacetime abilities.

Xu Xiaoyan's statue held a dazzling star staff. Her face was exquisitely beautiful, but her expression retained a girl's shyness and resolve. Starlight seemed to twinkle around her, making her resemble an elf beneath the night sky—quiet, yet powerful.

These four statues were not merely cold stone and metal. Endless care and emotion had been poured into them. They were symbols of Eastsea City's soul and the greatest banner drawing countless geniuses to Eastsea Academy.

Tang Wulin and Gu Yuena stood silently in the shadows cast by the statues, looking up at their selves and companions from ten thousand years ago. There was no excitement, no pride—only an indescribable daze and serenity, as though they were gazing back across a long river of time. Glory and legend belonged to the past, separated from their blank yet real hearts by an invisible membrane.

They skirted the noisy plaza and wandered deeper into the academy. The farther they went, the quieter the surroundings became. Modern buildings gradually dwindled, leaving more of those old structures that had weathered the elements and stood in silent dignity.

Before they realized it, they arrived at a relatively secluded garden. Ancient trees towered overhead, the grass was lush, and the atmosphere was solemn. At the center of the garden stood a tall, lonely statue.

It was a statue of a man. He stood tall and straight as a pine tree, dressed in neat, fitted clothing. His face was handsome, yet seemed covered by a layer of ice that would never melt. His eyes were sharp, as though they could see through people's hearts. He stood with his hands behind his back, radiating an icy aloofness that warned strangers to stay away, as if even the air around him might freeze.

A line of vigorous characters was engraved upon the statue's pedestal:

Skyfrost Dragon Ice · Wu Changkong

Once taught here

"Teacher... Wu?"

The instant his gaze touched that cold statue, Tang Wulin felt as though he had been struck by invisible lightning. His entire body suddenly froze in place!

The lake of his heart, calm and still until then, seemed to have been struck by a massive boulder, instantly setting off towering waves! The fragments of his memories were no longer trickling streams, but a suppressed volcano erupting with a deafening roar!

· An utterly cold voice exploded in his mind. "You can't even endure this little training, and you still want to become strong?" It was Wu Changkong's merciless rebuke when they first met, directed at the four of them as they trained with miserable expressions.

· The scene shifted. The man held a wooden sword, his moves simple yet incomparably fierce, knocking him to the ground again and again. His voice remained cold. "Look carefully! Soul power is not brute force!" Sweat, tears, and dirt mixed together. Those had been the hardest years of tempering their foundations.

· Then came the image of Guang Biao leading a group of people in arrogant provocation, followed by that white figure descending like an immortal cast down from the heavens. One sword strike—just one sword strike! Dazzling ice-blue sword light seemed to freeze time and space, instantly crushing every bully! That cold voice carried unquestionable protection. "My students are not people you can lay your hands on." At that moment, that icy figure became a mountain-like source of safety in his heart.

· The fragments of memory spun rapidly—the founding of Class Zero, countless training sessions so harsh they seemed inhuman, and the stunning Skyfrost Sword that seemed capable of freezing the world...

· Finally, the memories stopped on an image so clear that it made his heart ache sharply—

Wu Changkong stood quietly there, watching snowflakes fall outside. His back looked so lonely and sorrowful, his outstretched hands seeming as though they wanted to embrace someone. Wu Changkong simply stared, as if he were looking at a real person. On his cold profile was a pain and tenderness Tang Wulin had never seen before, etched into his very bones. He maintained that posture as though he had become an eternal ice sculpture, guarding a love buried beneath ice and snow.

The violent pain, born not from his body but from his soul, made Tang Wulin let out a muffled groan. His body bent slightly forward beyond his control. Tears burst forth like a breached flood, completely uncontrollable, instantly blurring his vision.

It was not grief—not entirely. It was a mixture of endless longing, profound reverence, gratitude for the protection he had received in his youth, and the immense bitterness brought by soul-deep resonance upon seeing that ice statue. Ten thousand years had passed; everything and everyone had changed.

Teacher Wu appeared to be ice that had lasted ten thousand years, but within him lay a devotion fierce enough to burn away everything, as well as clumsy yet steadfast protection for his disciples. What he had taught Tang Wulin was not merely how to fight, but what perseverance was, what responsibility was, and what... love was.

"Teacher Wu... Teacher Wu..." he murmured, his voice shattered, as though he had become that boy again—somewhat afraid of his strict teacher, yet utterly dependent on him. "I miss you so much. Are you doing well now?"

How he wished that after ten thousand years, that lonely and deeply devoted soul had found his final resting place and no longer had to be separated from the one he loved.

Beside him, Gu Yuena looked at the cold statue, and fragments of memory also flashed through her mind. She remembered this cold teacher, his power and strictness, and that he had been one of the people she needed to observe during her infiltration plan. Toward Wu Changkong, she felt the reflections and respect of both a student and an observer.

But those feelings were far from as unforgettable as Tang Wulin's. In her world, whether ten thousand years ago or now, the only one who could truly take root without obstruction in the softest part of her heart and stir every one of her emotions had always been the man beside her, now weeping uncontrollably.

She said nothing more. She simply stepped forward softly, wrapped her arms around Tang Wulin's bent and trembling body from behind, and gently embraced him. Her cheek rested against his broad back, which rose and fell with his sobs, as she felt his sorrow and longing.

"Cry. You'll feel better," she said softly, her voice like the gentlest balm. "I remember so much now... Back then, here, there was Teacher Wu, Xie Xie, Xiaoyan, and us. We were together. The training was hard, but... it was truly fulfilling and happy."

Her embrace and words became a safe harbor, accepting all the emotions surging within him. Tang Wulin reached back and tightly grasped the hands around his waist, as though they were the only driftwood keeping him afloat in an emotional storm. He buried his face deeper, his shoulders shaking faintly, and let himself, at this moment, shed every tear of longing accumulated over ten thousand years for that cold man who had been both teacher and father.

Sunlight filtered through the branches and leaves of the ancient trees, falling in mottled patches upon Wu Changkong's cold statue and upon the two embracing figures. On one side stood eternal silence and guardianship; on the other, grief and remembrance spanning time and space. At this moment, time itself seemed to intertwine, binding the bond between teacher and disciple from ten thousand years ago tightly to the search and sorrow of ten thousand years later.

This recovery of memory brought not chaos and pain, but an outpouring and purification of emotion. It allowed him to finally reconcile, ten thousand years late, with those youthful days filled with sweat, tears, and warmth.