The nine-tailed fox running ahead had a smile glimmering in his eyes. He quickened his pace.
In his heart, he responded to her countless times:
Alright.
Su Xuan would never let Sang Dai stop for him. He would do his best to catch up to her, so he could stand at her side openly and honorably.
—
Ahead, the landscape shifted to a scene of heavy snow, with large, soft flakes falling thickly. The space seemed divided by an invisible barrier—on one side lay the endless desert, on the other, the vast snowy expanse.
Sang Dai tilted her head back, gazing at the distant snowfield, a realization dawning in her heart.
She said, “I actually came here a long time ago. Back then, I was searching for clues but had no direction. I arrived at the place where Tian Yuxue slumbers, but I didn’t go in.”
She couldn’t awaken a divine beast that would bring about a catastrophic cold just to satisfy her own desires. Sang Dai would never use the lives of innocent people as a stepping stone for herself.
She pointed to a spot in the distance where a stone stele stood, engraved with the words “Snow Realm.”
“I squatted there and cried for almost an entire day.”
She said this with a smile, recounting her embarrassing story to Su Xuan without a trace of shame, her tone calm and lighthearted.
Su Xuan raised an eyebrow and asked, “How many times has Miss Sang cried in secret?”
In a small voice, Sang Dai replied, “Quite a lot, actually. But no one ever saw. I’d always find a place to cry by myself or curl up under a blanket to do it.”
The smile on Su Xuan’s lips faded slightly.
Sang Dai sighed softly and remarked, “But it’s all in the past now. As I got older, I stopped crying much—tears don’t solve problems.”
Suddenly, someone ruffled her hair.
“Tears don’t solve problems, but they can release emotions,” Su Xuan said with a light smile, the corners of his lips curved. “You’re human, and humans have emotions. Even I’ve cried before. Back when I brought a dress to Tianque Mountain to find you, you slashed the dress I’d spent so long carefully preparing. My heart was shattered into pieces, and I went back and cried by myself.”
After all, he was just a young man back then, experiencing the stirrings of first love. But his beloved had forgotten him.
Sang Dai sincerely apologized, “I’m sorry. How about I replace the dress for you?”
Su Xuan laughed aloud, pinching her cheeks and gently tugging. “That dress was bought for you in the first place. Why would you replace it? Silly.”
[So silly, but so adorable. I should give Dai Dai a kiss.]
Sang Dai laughed, covering her eyes. Her dimples were especially prominent on her cheeks.
Su Xuan’s heart softened at the sight, but he didn’t forget the matter at hand. He took out a cloak from his Qiankun Bag and fastened it around her.
“It’s very cold inside. Don’t stray too far from me.”
The Sword Cultivator nodded obediently. “Alright.”
He held her hand as they walked forward. As soon as they entered, a bone-chilling cold invaded their entire bodies, seeping into their very marrow. It was an unbearable cold.
Their protective spiritual energy shielded them from the falling snow.
Su Xuan cast several fire-warding spells on Sang Dai, leaving only her head exposed. The cloak’s collar was lined with fur.
She held the Hellfire orb Su Xuan had given her in one hand, while her other hand was clasped in his, receiving a continuous flow of fire-element spiritual energy from him.
“Are you still cold?”
“Much better. It’s fine, let’s keep going.”
“Alright. The terrain of the Snow Realm shifts frequently. We’ll take our time and proceed carefully.”
“Okay.”
Sang Dai followed Su Xuan forward. Divine beasts had a natural sense of each other’s presence. Su Xuan’s pupils shifted to a pale, glazed color as he searched for Tian Yuxue’s aura.
After walking for about half an hour, he suddenly stopped and turned his gaze southward.
Sang Dai asked, “Is she there?”
Su Xuan sneered, “No, she’s not.”
Sang Dai focused her spiritual energy outward to investigate, then fell silent.
The two of them stood where they were and saw, in the distance, a figure dressed in luxurious robes—a monk.
The monk was sprinting wildly, shouting, “Help! Help me!!!”
The scene was undeniably strange.
He was clearly a monk, and Buddhist cultivators were typically restrained and followed strict codes of conduct. Normally, they wore simple kasayas, but this monk was dressed in a lavish, dark red robe that looked utterly out of place.
The monk’s extravagant attire bore a striking resemblance to another person’s clothing.
It must have been stolen by him.
Sang Dai remarked, “…After all these years, Tan Huai is still the same.”
Not at all like a monk.
Calm and composure were qualities that Tan Huai utterly lacked.
And chasing behind him, yet another familiar face was running wildly. The two of them teleported closer to Sang Dai and Su Xuan.
Ji Cang roared angrily, “You damned bald donkey, why would you provoke it?!”
Without turning his head, Tan Huai shouted back, “I was just teasing it! How was I supposed to know it couldn’t take a joke?!”
Behind them was a spirit beast with snowy white fur and blood-red eyes in furious pursuit.
In the Snow Realm, aside from Tian Yuxue, there were other spirit beasts. These beasts were under Tian Yuxue’s control, essentially her servants.
In this realm, if Tian Yuxue wanted them dead, they couldn’t survive, so these beasts followed her orders without question.
The spirit beast chasing after Tan Huai and Ji Cang was called a Snow Qilin. Though its spiritual power was not particularly high, its bite strength was formidable. Even spiritual energy defenses were useless against its bite.
Moreover, its beastly roar carried powerful sonic waves capable of damaging a person’s meridians.
Spotting Sang Dai and Su Xuan, Tan Huai’s eyes lit up.
“Miss Sang! Your Majesty the Beast King! Save us!”
Sang Dai watched Tan Huai running toward them in a completely undignified manner, her expression blank.
Under normal circumstances, the two of them should have been able to easily handle the Snow Qilin. However, Sang Dai immediately noticed that both were gravely injured. Although they appeared capable of running and jumping, their heart meridians had been partially severed.
If they tried to use their spiritual energy to fight back against the Snow Qilin, it would only hasten their deaths. Hence, they opted for a shameless retreat.
Su Xuan scoffed coldly, ready to ignore them, but the person whose hand he was holding suddenly disappeared.
Sang Dai had drawn her sword and leapt forward. The azure glow of her blade cleaved through the air, scattering the heavy snowdrifts. The sword light slashed straight toward the Snow Qilin.
This spirit beast, possessing divine consciousness, recognized that the female cultivator before it was unlike the two heavily injured men it had been chasing. She was at her peak.
The Snow Qilin dodged sideways, avoiding the sword light. Its massive form stood still as it glared at Sang Dai viciously, its slit pupils cold and indifferent. It turned to flee.
But just as it turned, a black sword appeared, suspended mid-air, pointing directly at its eyes.
The black-robed youth stood before it, hands clasped behind his back. The Snow Qilin had no idea when he had teleported there.
Su Xuan raised an eyebrow and smirked. “You’ve already come this far. Why not sit down and have a little chat?”
The Snow Qilin: “…”
It roared furiously, ready to unleash its sonic wave attack on them.
“Howl—”
Before it could finish, a blue-clad Sword Cultivator appeared above its head, cutting off its roar with a swift kick to its skull.
“Stop shouting. Your voice is awful.”
The female cultivator, despite looking slender and frail, possessed tremendous strength. With just a light stomp, the Snow Qilin felt so dizzy that it couldn’t tell north from south.
Internal injuries—it had sustained internal injuries!
“Whimper…”
The Snow Qilin collapsed onto the ground, stars spinning in its vision.
Sang Dai sat cross-legged atop its head, lightly knocking on the dazed Snow Qilin. She asked, “Since you were purposefully chasing them, it must have been under Tian Yuxue’s orders. Where is she?”
The Snow Qilin couldn’t comprehend her words. That earlier stomp had been imbued with spiritual energy, and it genuinely believed its life had reached its end.
Ji Cang and Tan Huai hurried over.
Tan Huai pressed his palms together in a gesture of gratitude. “Thank you, Miss Sang. This humble monk is endlessly grateful.”
Ji Cang’s expression was complicated. The last time he had seen Sang Dai was during the chaos of Bairen Alley, and now, she was already a Grand Ascension cultivator.
Sang Dai tapped the Snow Qilin again. “Are you still there? Strange, why aren’t you speaking?”
She frowned and was about to knock on its head again.
The Snow Qilin burst into tears, its sobbing loud and pitiful. “Stop knocking, stop knocking! I’m going to die! Whimper… You’re so strong! Whimper…”
Sang Dai: “…”
Having sparred with Su Xuan so often, who could endure a beating, she had unknowingly developed a fearsome strength. Since stepping into the Grand Ascension stage, it had only increased.
Ji Cang nodded in agreement, a knowing look on his face.
He had exchanged a few moves with her during the battle in Bairen Alley and had experienced Sang Dai’s ferocity firsthand.
The Snow Qilin whimpered, its vision filled with despair. Before it stood a black-robed demon cultivator, a blue-clad Sword Cultivator sat on its head, and nearby were a demonic cultivator and a Buddhist cultivator—all Heaven-Grade Spiritual Root awakeners.
The Snow Qilin: Might as well just die.
It shut its eyes, pretending to faint.
Sang Dai knocked on its head again. “Don’t play dead. If you faint, I’ll wake you up with another hit.”
The Snow Qilin: “…”
This was the greatest crisis of its life.
Sang Dai asked, “Where is Tian Yuxue?”
The Snow Qilin whimpered, “…I don’t know where she is right now…”
Sang Dai drew her sword.
The Snow Qilin immediately cried out, “Oh, I just remembered!”
Sang Dai calmly sheathed her sword.
The Snow Qilin muttered, “…Even if I tell you, you won’t be able to find her. There are no markers here, and you won’t be able to get your bearings.”
Sang Dai replied, “Then you’ll take us there. You can sense her presence, right?”
The Snow Qilin tried to bargain. “…Fine, but I can only take one of you. The road ahead is too treacherous.”
Sang Dai shook her head and refused seriously. “That’s not acceptable. It’s a buy-one-get-three deal. You have to take all three of them along too.”
The Snow Qilin: “???”
It roared angrily, “I’m not doing it!”
Ji Cang rolled up his sleeves. “Not willing? Then we’ll just give you a beating.”
The Snow Qilin whimpered, “Wuwu!”
It struggled briefly before relenting. “Fine, fine! I’ll take you all, okay?”
Sang Dai asked, “Where is she?”
The Snow Qilin hesitated for a long time, weighing the choice between getting beaten to a pulp by Tian Yuxue or by the four Heaven-Grade Spiritual Root awakeners before it. In the end, it decisively chose the former.
In a small voice, it said, “The Snow Abyss.”
As soon as the words fell, everyone’s expressions changed.
Sang Dai, Su Xuan, and the other two exchanged glances, the seriousness in their eyes unmistakable.
The Snow Abyss—the heart of the ancient divine beast, the Snow Owl.
No one had ever returned alive from there.