When Sun Wukong's eyes regained clarity once again, he beheld a world blanketed in snow white.
The snowflakes danced down from the sky like catkins, shrouding the Four Great Continents, mountains, fields, and cities, all enveloped by white thorns.
The thorns spread endlessly across the land; the cold wind blew, the thorns glistened like pieces of silver, forcing people to stay indoors, and birds and beasts vanished without a trace.
"This snow renders the world exceedingly frail."
Some Immortals stood behind Sun Wukong with folded hands, reporting: "If the Three Realms are sealed in ice, when the explosion comes, all life will be shattered to pieces."
"Hundreds of millions in the Mortal World are frozen, but we find no way to halt the spread of the thorns."
Lord Lao Zi of the Great Monad, at a loss for action, said: "One day from now, the thorns will have frozen the entire Three Realms."
"Heavenly Emperor."
The Immortals inquired about what to do.
