The winds howled across the desolate plain, snow swirling thick in the air, cold biting in all directions. Layers upon layers of white blanketed the land, gloomy and frigid. Every now and then, the wind would whip up icy shards, flinging them through the air where they clashed with strange susu sounds—like a hellscape sculpted from frozen steel.
Through the black curtain of sky, a group of more than a dozen figures could be seen braving the blizzard, heads bowed against the storm as they pressed forward.
"Uncle-Master, we've been going at it for three or four hours already!"
A young man in a blue Daoist robe called out quietly to the figure leading the group—a frail, hunched old Daoist with a wiry frame.
The old man turned his head. His gaunt face resembled a monkey's, with a pair of eyes spinning about like marbles—completely lacking the calm dignity one would expect from an elder.
But if you looked closely, you'd see something strange in his gaze: a red glow, flickering and shrinking around his pupils like flowing molten gold. This wasn't just any old man—he possessed the "Flowing Fire Red-Gold Eyes," and had cultivated them to a high level where "where the gaze falls, the sword strikes—light twists, gold is carved."
With just one glance, he could see the juniors behind him pale-faced and gasping, clearly at the limits of their strength. It was no wonder—marching through this marrow-freezing cold while resisting its oppressive force would wear anyone down, especially those still early in their cultivation.
The old Daoist shook his head. "Fine. We'll rest for a moment—just long enough to catch our breath, then we move."
A chorus of groans rose up instantly. "Uncle-Master Mingyan—"
Mingyan wasn't exactly a stickler for decorum. He often joked around with the juniors, never acting his age. He was easy to like, sure—but far less imposing than the other elders. So now, the younger disciples jumped at the chance, whining as loud as they could, hoping to squeeze out a few more minutes of rest.
But this time, Mingyan wasn't playing.
With a flick of his sleeve, invisible sword qi hissed through the snow, slicing a wide circle around the group. The overwhelming pressure of his sword qi repelled the surrounding wind and snow, shielding them from the biting cold.
He snorted and carelessly sat down cross-legged in the snow. "Hurry up and meditate! One quarter of an hour. Not a breath longer!"
Some of the more obedient disciples sat down right away. The rest, though, shamelessly crowded over, grinning as they whined, "Uncle-Master, come on—just a little longer?"
Mingyan rolled his eyes. "This is life and death, you brats. Not one second more!"
But his tone—sharp, shrill, almost theatrical—carried zero intimidation. The juniors just grinned wider. "Life and death? Uncle-Master, at the rate you're pushing us, that's what feels like life and death!"
"Seriously, you knew this place was freezing, and you still won't let us ride our flying swords? If we could fly, this whole trip would take, what, a stick of incense?"
Mingyan let out a cold, snickering laugh. "So now I'm the villain, huh? You little punks act all proper and respectful in front of your masters, but when it's just me, a lonely old Daoist, you've got no manners at all! Sit down, all of you!"
That last shout was filled with energy from the dantian, shaking the air like a thunderclap. The few juniors who still hadn't shut up were blasted backward by the sound alone, their qi in turmoil, legs giving out as they dropped to the ground. Even the few who'd already started meditating snapped their eyes open, startled and confused.
In an instant, silence fell inside the sword qi barrier. Mingyan's gaze swept over the group, the crimson light in his flickering—very different from the restrained sharpness he usually showed.
Seeing their minds scattered and unsettled, he sighed, voice softening. "You're young, you don't know how dangerous the world can be. That's normal. You'll learn. But your masters—surely they told you how dangerous the Lord of the North Pole's Yemo Heaven is?"
Hearing the change in tone, the juniors relaxed a little, finally catching their breath. One of the quick-witted ones hastily followed the eldert's tone and said, "The ancient demon, Jade Wanderer—and his niece, Lady Gu Yin, the sect leader of the Miaohua Sect—Seven Kill Strings, are both renowned experts in the Tongxuan Realm. Of course we've heard of them."
"Know your ass! If you really knew, would you be out here risking your life over a little Spirit Fox?" Mingyan's monkey-like eyes bulged, and the smart-alecky junior who'd just spoken was instantly left red-faced and speechless.
Luckily, someone else jumped in to defuse the tension, grinning cheekily as he changed the subject: "Uncle-Master Mingyan, we all admit we were wrong. How about you take pity on us and tell a story or two about the Tongxuan Realm? Once you're done, we'll get back on the road."
The moment he said that, a gleam lit up in the old Daoist's eyes—but he didn't seem to notice the younger disciples around him all holding back their laughter like they'd stuffed gourds in their mouths.
Everyone knew: their Uncle Mingyan lived for stories. He loved to talk about legends from all corners of the world—past or present, famous or obscure—and the more bizarre and secretive, the better.
Even the taboos that no one else in the sect would dare whisper, he somehow managed to dig up, and then he'd spread them with great relish. Not even scoldings from the sect leader could keep him from it. That's exactly why the juniors loved him—he was their personal gossip mill of the cultivation world.
And once he started? You could forget about getting him to stop for at least half an hour. That way, he got to indulge his favorite hobby, and the juniors got more time to rest—a win-win if there ever was one.
Mingyan narrowed his eyes and thoughtfully tugged at his patchy yellow beard. At first, he shook his head as if to resist... but in the end, the temptation was just too strong. With an exaggerated sigh, he nodded reluctantly.
The juniors let out a quiet cheer—but the moment his gaze swept over them, they all snapped into serious poses, sitting upright and solemn like model disciples. That finally earned them a satisfied nod from the old man.
He took a deep breath, his expression intoxicated as if he had just drunk divine nectar. "Since you all look half-dead, I'll give you a bit more time to rest. While we're at it, let me tell you about a big event that just happened in the Tongxuan Realm!
"These past few months, our Mingxin Sword Sect, along with the other 33 other sects—righteous and demonic alike—have all gathered in the Mangcang Mountains for one purpose: to slay a a demon that's rampaged through for thousands of years—one of the Seven Great Demons under heaven: the Celestial Demon Phoenix!"
He paused for effect, his peripheral vision catching the juniors holding their breath in anticipation. In that moment, Mingyan felt like he'd ascended—he alone knew the secrets of heaven and earth. With great flair, he pointed to one disciple and asked, "You. Tell me—what is a demon?"
The chosen disciple puffed out his chest and answered, "My master said that demons are born from beasts and birds, plants and trees, or from corrupted qi—"
He didn't get far before the old man cut him off with a wave and a scornful snort. "All nonsense!"
Seeing his look of disdain, the whole group scrambled to look attentive again.
"Why make it so complicated?" the old Daoist grumbled. "Just remember this: anything smarter than you, but not human? That's a demon."
This blunt explanation left the younger disciples looking at each other, puzzled.
Mingyan snorted again. "Idiots." The juniors just chuckled nervously and kept their heads down.
Luckily, he didn't dwell on it. After tossing that nugget of wisdom, he got back on track: "The Demon Phoenix was once a celestial bird from the Upper Realm, but it got tainted by the world's impure qi and turned into a demon.
"Even so, it's never done anything evil, never picked sides, just roamed freely and minded its own business. By all rights, it shouldn't concern any of us. And yet—here we are, going all out to hunt it down…"
Before he could finish, one quicker-tongued junior blurted out, "It's because of First Grandmaster Uncle—"
He instantly realized his blunder the moment the words had escaped him. Glancing around at the smug, gloating faces, he froze with his mouth half-open, the word 'Uncle' still hanging unfinished.
Mingyan burst into laughter. "You little rascals really are sharp! Even with all the news sealed so tightly on the mountain, you still managed to sniff it out!"
Seeing how much fun the old man was having, the blabbermouth quickly shrank back and decided not to say a single extra word for the rest of the day.
After laughing himself hoarse, Mingyan finally said, "What's there to be afraid of? It's not some big secret. So what if Senior Brother Lin and that demon beast had a secret affair? I'd bet the whole Tongxuan Realm knows about it by now!"
The juniors swallowed hard, not daring to fart. Meanwhile, Old Daoist Mingyan's spittle was flying as he went on:
"Everyone already knew about this ten years ago! That demon, after all, is also a high level immortal —even if she turned into a demon, she's still more than worthy of our Senior Brother!
"Sure, humans and demons are different in nature, but they are still both born of heaven and earth. If they could become Dao companions—complementing each other and advancing on the path together—it would be a beautiful union.
That's why everyone was aware of their love affair but never said a word, for the sake of Senior Brother Lin's dignity."
A few of the younger disciples were already letting their minds wander—but before their imaginations could go wild, Mingyan suddenly raised his voice: "BUT! Three months ago, something very strange happened—turns out, that demon… was pregnant with Senior Brother Lin's child!"
A dozen or so gasped in shock, all at once.
Mingyan waved both hands in the air, his face and voice brimming with vivid emotion as he went on, "They may all be born of heaven and earth, but they're not the same kind! Even if a demon can take human shape, how could it possibly… you know, resonate with yin and yang, and actually reproduce? That would be a blatant defiance of the Heavenly Dao!
"After months of meticulous investigation, we finally uncovered the root of it all… turns out, that demon's ability to conceive and bear a child came from cultivating the Seeded Jade Demon Art!"
"Seeded Jade Demon Art?" the juniors cried in unison. "Is it powerful?"
Mingyan gave a low, sinister chuckle. "It creates devil infants, reshapes matter, devours the wilds, and can tear the sky, and blots out the sun! Tell me… does that sound powerful to you?"
They didn't fully understand what that meant, but it didn't stop their imaginations from running wild. The more they thought about it, the more terrifying it seemed.
Seeing the timing was perfect, Mingyan suddenly slammed his palm into the snow with a loud crack, and shouted:
"So in the end, that demon seduced our Senior Brother just to cultivate the Seeded Jade Demon Art. It was all a scheme! And if she truly succeeded in mastering it, it'll plunge the world into misery and death. Wouldn't that make our Mingxin Sword Sect complicit in its crimes?
"That's why the Sect Master issued the Heaven-Net Sword Decree, summoning every sect under the sky to join forces—that demon must be captured at all costs!"
By now the juniors were boiling with righteous fury. A few of them even jumped up, cursing loudly. Their insults weren't exactly creative, but the enthusiasm made up for it.
Mingyan just stood there grinning, clearly enjoying the reaction. It was all going just as he'd planned. Once their anger had vented a bit, he cleared his throat, ready to continue—when something flickered past the corner of his eye.
It was a flash of red—gorgeous and eerie—cutting across the snowstorm like blood spilled on white silk. In that moment, Mingyan's heart clenched. That color… it was too familiar, too dangerous.
The juniors watched in confusion as he suddenly sprang to his feet and stared hard into the distance.
All he saw was endless white.
Did I imagine it?
He focused his mind and unleashed the full power of his Flowing Fire Red Gold Eyes. In an instant, everything within dozens of miles came into focus—nothing escaped his gaze.
Still, there was nothing there.
Just as he hesitated, a strange sound drifted over the snow. It was faint—like a spring bubbling or a bird singing in the empty mountains—but somehow, it echoed endlessly in this frozen world.
Mingyan's face twitched. His whole body tensed like a drawn bow.
He turned slightly, catching sight of the juniors, all looking confused and clueless. A surge of rage and anxiety welled up in him: These useless brats! Look at the trouble you've stirred up.
Before he could even finish the thought—another sound tore through the air.
CRACK! This one was sharp, piercing, like ice shattering right next to his ears
The gap in cultivation was instantly obvious. Mingyan let out a grunt as his protective sword-qi barrier shattered like glass—it was as though a heavy fist had smashed down on his skull. Stars burst before his eyes. The world tilted.
In that dizzying moment, an infamous figure leapt into his mind. Just thinking of the terrifying power that person once wielded made his limbs go cold.
Mingyan mustered all his strength and yelled into the snowy void:
"Wait! It's a misunderstanding! Misunderstanding! We're from Mingxin Sword Sect of Lianxia Mountain! Sect Master Gu—please don't be angry, just give us a chance to explain!"
In the vast, empty snowfield, his voice echoed out far and wide—only to be torn to shreds almost instantly by the howling wind.
But that was enough.
From somewhere far off came a faint, low hum. The moment that hum sounded, all noise ceased completely.
The entire icefield fell into dead silence. It was eerie, almost otherworldly—so quiet it sent a chill deeper than the cold itself, like some hidden menace lurking just out of sight.
Mingyan collapsed into a sitting position, gasping for breath. As for the younger disciples, they'd long since passed out under the crushing pressure that had swept over them. In a way, maybe that was a mercy.
The wind still howled, yet not a single sound came from it. It defied all natural order. But Mingyan wasn't surprised.
After all, the person in the distance was one of the foremost sound-arts grandmasters in the entire Tongxuan Realm. Other than her terrifying uncle—whose power none dared contest—who else could match her in the art of sound-based killing techniques and transformations?
Miaohua Sect Master, Gu Yin. Her reputation was no exaggeration.
Mingyan clutched his chest, suppressing the turbulent qi and blood within, and didn't dare guess where she might be hidden. Instead, he launched straight into damage control, talking nonstop: how the juniors, being young and foolish, had entered the domain out of playful curiosity, how he had pursued them to bring them back, and every other detail, laid out one by one.
He'd always had a way with words, and now, staring death in the face, he pulled out every trick in the book. His words spilled forth with heartfelt sincerity, filled with apologies and self-blame, all delivered with practiced flattery and tactful detours—the man could've made a lotus flower bloom with his smooth talk.
Hundreds of words poured out like a river. It was the best he'd ever done in his life. If even that couldn't sway her… then he might as well close his eyes, await his fate, and let the ice drink his blood.
The icefield remained silent for several heartbeats. Not a single voice replied. Mingyan waited, cold sweat breaking across his back, soaking into his Daoist robe. It clung to his skin, making him feel ten times more miserable.
Time dragged on. Just as he was about to mentally snap and bolt for his life, a sound came again—faint, almost illusory, growing more and more distant. Within a few echoes, it vanished into the icy wilderness without a trace.
Then, all at once— WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH! —the howling wind roared back to life, louder than ever. It joined with the biting, sweeping cold, whistling past Mingyan's ears.
His scattered soul finally re-entered his body, and in the midst of the wind's terrifying wail, he slowly slumped back down.
He knew then—the demon had left.
From beginning to end, she hadn't even said a single word. And truthfully, Mingyan wasn't even worthy of a response.
"Lucky… so lucky," he muttered. "Only ran into the lesser one. If the older had shown up… I'd be lying in pieces on the ground by now."
Another gust of wind screamed past, making him shudder. His mind went blank for a moment. Looking down at the unconscious juniors sprawled all over the place, his face twitched.
"We better get out of here. If that demon changes her mind and comes back… she'll really take my life!"
With that thought, he flung out his robe sleeves. A flush of red spread across his pale, withered face as he forcibly pushed his cultivation to the limit, grabbed the disciples, and flew off, skimming just above the snowy ground.
A few breaths later, the endless snowfall and ice crystals swallowed the path they had taken, leaving no trace behind.
As if no one had ever been there at all.