Xia Qingyue gradually regained consciousness, as if emerging from a dream she was reluctant to abandon.
Her mind, normally sharp and vigilant even while cultivating or resting, felt unusually calm upon waking. There was no anxiety, nor any sense of urgency—feelings she had scarcely experienced since beginning to cultivate the Frozen Cloud Asgard's profound art, except in the rarest of moments. Yet what she felt now was something she had long forgotten: a gentle tenderness, almost as if she had returned to the sweet embrace of her mother in childhood...
Her heart, frozen by the profound art she cultivated, trembled at the recollection of that sensation. However, she quickly regained her composure and turned her attention to another matter: the reason she felt so extraordinarily comfortable. She had no idea how much time had passed; it could have been minutes... hours... or even entire days. All she knew was that, upon fully regaining her senses, her body felt inexplicably light, enveloped in an absolute comfort that made her feel as though she were floating among the clouds.
Her eyelashes trembled slightly.
Slowly, she opened her eyes. She blinked languidly, her long lashes quivering as her vision adjusted to the soft light filtering through the room...
Where was she...?
When her vision finally cleared, the first thing Xia Qingyue saw was a simple ceiling of light-colored wood, supported by rustic yet perfectly aligned beams. The room was bathed in gentle light streaming in through a side window, filtered by white fabric curtains, mingling with the warm glow of the fire burning in the hearth. She was already beginning to feel puzzled, but this explained the absence of the biting breeze she was accustomed to in the Snowy Ice Polar Region—a sensation familiar to every disciple of Frozen Cloud Asgard, even within their own quarters. Still, the presence of a hearth fire in this place was far too strange. She had likely been taken far from her sect's territory... right?
The Snowy Ice Polar Region was a place of extreme cold, utterly unsuitable for ordinary people to live in. Though it was an ideal environment for cultivators practicing ice-based profound arts, it was certainly not a place where an ordinary human could survive, let alone light and maintain a fire in a hearth. It was easier to assume she had been taken elsewhere...
But then where was she?
She blinked, confused.
Then, she shifted her gaze slightly.
She was lying on a kind of improvised bed, yet one that was absurdly comfortable. The surface beneath her body was soft, covered with bedding made from the clean pelts of profound beasts, along with thick blankets that radiated a constant, gentle warmth. There was no stiffness beneath her back, nor any sign of discomfort.
Instinctively, she tried to move her fingers.
They moved.
Xia Qingyue raised her right hand and brought it before her eyes. Her skin was flawless. Taking the opportunity, she examined her own body and found no cuts, no bruises... nothing remaining from the pitiful state she had been in before losing consciousness. The only evidence of her injuries were the dried bloodstains and tears in her white robes.
It was during this careful inspection that she noticed something even more surprising: even her profound veins, which should have been exhausted and aching, were calm, with profound energy flowing steadily and smoothly.
Hmm? She realized that the bottleneck toward the Tyrant Profound Realm had been completely loosened. If she cultivated for just a few days, she could breakthrough without any difficulty...
In the end, surviving that battle had truly brought its benefits...
Carefully, Xia Qingyue sat up slowly.
Only then could she observe the surroundings more closely.
The cabin was small but tidy. Against one wall stood a simple wooden table, upon which rested a modest porcelain bowl and a neatly folded cloth. The hearth kept embers burning quietly, spreading even warmth—the same source of illumination she had noticed while still lying down. Beyond that, there was only the improvised bed on which she had awakened.
Through the narrow window, she could see the valley.
Snow stretched in all directions. White mountains rose like silent walls. The wind howled outside, but it was contained by the mountain chains, forming a surprisingly sheltered valley—almost comfortable, even in the Snowy Ice Polar Region. It seemed she had been mistaken in concluding that she had been taken far from Frozen Cloud Asgard's territory...
But in which part of Frozen Cloud Asgard's territory was she?
Xia Qingyue tried to recall any detail that might answer that question from before she lost consciousness. However, her memories were fragmented. All that remained was the battle against the Celestial Ice Bull Python, her body reduced to a deplorable state... and then the fall, the moment she accepted the bittersweet embrace of death.
After that...
An immortal had descended from the heavens and saved her...?
Wait.
Had that not been a dream?
Suddenly, the memory emerged with startling clarity.
Black eyes, deep as the darkest night, capable of hiding secrets from entire eras. A white mask concealing half his face and yet... he was beautiful. Beautiful in a way so unreal it seemed impossible. The way he had held her in his arms, firm yet gentle at the same time, as if she were something far too precious to let go. The calm voice assuring her she would be fine. And then... the raised finger, the casual murmur... the entire world shattering like glass. The overwhelming shock of witnessing absolute power.
After that, only darkness.
Recalling all this, Xia Qingyue's heart suddenly raced, beating hard enough that she instinctively pressed a hand to her chest.
She frowned immediately.
"...?"
That... was wrong.
Her heart should not react this way. The Frozen Cloud Asgard's Frozen Heart Arts kept her calm under any circumstances—no joy, sorrow, sadness, or anger. Under the Frozen Cloud Arts, her heart had always been cold and efficient. Almost nothing could cause it to tremble... except on rare occasions, such as when she was with Yun Che, for instance...
In her world, Yun Che was a very special existence. It was not only because they were husband and wife, but also because he was different from all the other men she had known... Those other men were either terrified and unable to look her in the face, or they forcibly put on a facade of refined nobility while still unable to hide their lecherous eyes, which disgusted her.
Only Yun Che... was capable of being completely genuine in her presence. Even when he was in trouble, he never felt inferior to her in the slightest.
He was so incredibly mysterious that, for the first time, she felt the desire to fully understand a man. Occasionally he was so calm it impressed her; sometimes he spoke and acted like a child; and at other times like a scoundrel...
Yet she was someone destined to tread the path to the pinnacle of profound cultivation. To reach that height, she was willing to abandon everything and naturally relegate those emotions to the background. At some point, she would cease to consider herself Yun Che's "wife" and was willing to help him as such, whether out of gratitude or feelings she had never been able to clearly name...
But all that belonged to the past.
She had lost the only man she considered truly "special." After learning of his death, her heart had become irreparably cold, and she had devoted all her efforts to cultivation, driven by a single purpose: to reunite with her mother.
And now...
Just by recalling that mysterious man who had saved her, the same feeling returned—the irresistible desire to understand him completely. At that time, she had been without her veil, her clothes torn... and yet he had not looked at her with the slightest trace of lust. His indifference to the world was almost absolute, as if he came from a higher plane, as if he truly were an immortal exiled in the mortal world...
And that terrifying power...
Divine Profound Realm?
She seriously doubted that anyone in the Sovereign Profound Realm could cause such destruction with a gesture so casual.
Recalling the gesture that had annihilated the Celestial Ice Bull Python, erasing not only the beast but the entire horizon, the figure of that man returned to her mind, causing her emotions to stir even more. It was like a lake frozen for decades suddenly receiving the first light of a forgotten spring.
But why?
Was it because she had witnessed such overwhelming power, something beyond anything she had ever heard of among profound practitioners until now? Was it because of that figure beautiful to the point of seeming unreal? The way she had been held in his arms? The feeling of absolute safety, as if even if the heavens collapsed, she would still be protected? Or was it merely curiosity, the desire to know more about him...?
In truth, it was all of those things at once.
A true whirlwind of emotions.
She was surprised at herself.
Her face, normally so calm, acquired a slight warmth. An almost imperceptible blush appeared on her cheeks—something that should never happen to a disciple of Frozen Cloud Asgard...
Xia Qingyue averted her gaze, clenching her fingers tightly over the blankets.
She did not understand this feeling. She did not know where it came from. She did not know how to control it. Her lack of practice with emotions, a direct consequence of her profound art, made everything even more chaotic, even more intense...
It was like trying to hold back an avalanche with her bare hands. Still, by drawing upon her sect's profound art, she gradually managed to regain her composure and calm the agitated "emotions." Though the image of that "man" refused to leave her mind, the whirlwind that threatened to engulf her slowly dissipated, like a snowstorm losing strength and turning into soft flakes falling in silence. Her heart, which had been beating uncontrollably, returned to a steady rhythm. Her cheeks, which had taken on an unusual rosy tone, also regained their habitual paleness.
After remaining silent for a few moments, Xia Qingyue left the bed and stood up with graceful movements. Her torn white dress followed the motion, the dried bloodstains contrasting uncomfortably. A single glance was enough to decide she could not continue wearing it. Still, out of caution, she extended her spiritual sense around her to confirm she was alone.
With a simple thought, she activated her special ring.
A discreet glow appeared on her finger as the internal space opened to her spiritual perception. From it, she retrieved a long white dress identical to the one she had worn before the battle. The fabric was simple and elegant, flowing, made from profound materials capable of withstanding both extreme cold and fluctuations in profound energy.
Without haste, she removed the damaged and stained robes, folding them carefully before storing them back in the ring. Then she donned the new garment. The fabric slid over her skin like freshly fallen snow, fitting perfectly to her body and restoring the untouchable image of a Frozen Cloud Asgard fairy.
She adjusted the sleeves, smoothed the fabric lightly at her waist... and then brought a hand to her face.
It was then that she realized her veil was missing. Unfortunately, she had no spare in her special ring. She would have to wait until returning to the sect to obtain another...
Xia Qingyue remained silent for a few more moments, adjusting the final detail of her white dress. Without the veil, she felt slightly exposed, but that did not matter at the moment. Her focus returned to the surroundings, to the need to understand her situation and perhaps find a way back to Frozen Cloud Asgard. With a clearer mind, she calmly directed her gaze toward the cabin's entrance—a simple wooden door reinforced with carvings that seemed to withstand the valley's cold.
It was then that her spiritual sense detected something. Someone was approaching quickly...
Xia Qingyue did not move, maintaining her upright and composed posture, but inwardly prepared herself for whatever might come. Could it be an enemy? An unknown ally? Or... him?
The door opened with a soft creak, letting in a gust of icy wind that stirred the white curtains.
A man entered the cabin.
Xia Qingyue recognized him instantly by his eyes—those black eyes, deep as endless abysses, seeming to swallow light and guard secrets from entire worlds. It was him, the immortal who had saved her from certain death! But all that became irrelevant in the next instant, because when her gaze fixed on that perfect face...
The world lost its colors.
Time seemed to stop.
She felt as if heaven and earth had violently inverted. Her consciousness collapsed completely, as if struck by an invisible yet absolute blow.
Everything around her became distant, irrelevant... nonexistent.
She forgot where she was.
Forgot who she was.
Forgot even... how to breathe, her lungs frozen in a vacuum of absolute astonishment.
Her mind short-circuited entirely, unable to process the sight.
Perfect.
There was no other word.
His hair was black as a starless night—not an ordinary black, but a deep and absolute shade, as if light itself could not exist among those strands. It fell loose, straight, and so long that it reached the end of his back, framing his perfect face; yes, those features seemed to have been drawn by God Himself to be as beautiful as possible. His skin was white, smooth, and flawless, free of any mark, scar, or imperfection—so pure and refined that it seemed something that could never be tarnished or soiled.
But it was truly his eyes that drew the attention. With his face fully revealed and without that mask, they appeared even more beautiful. The pupils, as black as an abyss or a starless night, and just as his hair seemed to reflect nothing, his eyes did the same—they only seemed to swallow. Yet paradoxically, they were beautiful beyond any comparison. There was in them a subtle, deep, and ethereal glow, like the most precious of immortal jewels, polished not by the hand of time but by God Himself. Anyone who dared to stare into them for too long would feel the strange sensation that their soul was being slowly drawn in—not by force, but by an irresistible, gentle, and fatal attraction...
His robes were as dark as his hair, made from profound fabrics that absorbed light rather than reflecting it. Upon the dark color, golden adornments emerged like lost constellations, engraved with ancient and elegant patterns, exuding a silent and oppressive nobility. The contrast between the gold and the darkness only further highlighted the dominant and aristocratic presence he carried effortlessly.
How could someone like this exist?
No—how dared the world allow the existence of something like this?
Xia Qingyue's heart, which she had struggled so hard to calm moments before, began beating completely out of control: too fast, too hard, as if about to burst from her chest. Each beat echoed in her ears like muffled thunder. The emotions suppressed for so many years exploded all at once, like an ice dam finally breaking under the sudden arrival of spring.
The Frozen Heart Arts, which were supposed to seal any emotional disturbance, failed miserably—like ice exposed to a merciless sun, melting without resistance.
Since spending long years in Frozen Cloud Asgard, the coldness once present in her eyes had been replaced by apathy: a state as calm as stagnant waters, incapable of producing waves. Her profound energy aura had become a bone-piercing chill capable of freezing the very air around her. Beyond the Frozen Cloud Arts, the true core of the sect's legacy lay in the Frozen Heart Arts, a technique capable of calming the heart and purifying the mind. At its pinnacle, it allowed one to achieve a state of complete absence of desires, observing life and death, victory and defeat, good and evil with absolute indifference...
But... could someone who feels no desire or ambition still be called human?
Now, however, her eyes burned with feverish fervor. Her cheeks flushed intensely, a deep blush spreading uncontrollably, violently clashing with the habitual paleness of her skin.
She felt her entire body grow warm.
Felt her heart go mad. Felt something awakening within her—something she did not understand, did not master, and had never learned to name...
The man stopped a few steps from her.
His gaze casually swept the interior of the cabin before resting on Xia Qingyue. The instant those black eyes fell upon her, a strange sensation arose in her chest, as if agitated little butterflies had awakened in her stomach. Her heart refused to calm, and confused thoughts tumbled over one another in her mind.
She was without her veil.
The realization struck like a sudden blow. What reaction would this "immortal" have upon seeing her like this? Would he act like so many other men, letting lust or desire slip into his gaze? Or would he maintain the same distant indifference he had shown before she lost consciousness?
However, what she found was... nothing.
Those dark pupils remained absolutely calm, deep, and undisturbed, without the slightest emotional fluctuation. For some reason she could not comprehend, this left her strangely disappointed.
Why?
The confusion barely had time to form in her heart before it was completely swept away by the sound of his voice.
"I see you've awakened... Are you feeling well?" he asked calmly.
That voice was like immortal wine—smooth, intoxicating, capable of addicting the soul and rendering it unable to exist without it...
Xia Qingyue took a brief moment before she could respond. Her heart was still beating far too fast, and his voice seemed to echo directly in her mind, bypassing entirely any barrier the Frozen Heart Arts tried to raise. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to regain composure. Her hands, hidden beneath the wide sleeves of her white dress, clenched slightly.
"I... am fine." Her voice came out softer than intended, too delicate, clashing with the habitual indifference she always carried: "Was it the benefactor who brought me here and healed my injuries?"
The man nodded simply, as if snatching her from the jaws of death had been a trivial matter.
"Yes. After saving you from that Tyrant Profound Beast, seeing the severity of your injuries, I had to bring you to a safe place to treat them. Fortunately, I possess some medical skills... enough to heal you. But do not worry—I did not touch your body or anything of the sort to do so; my medical abilities are somewhat unique..."
She lowered her gaze for a moment, absorbing those words. There was no arrogance in them, nor any intent to receive gratitude. More than that, the way he had spoken, making clear that he had not even touched her body while healing her, awakened in her heart a bittersweet feeling difficult to define. He had said it all with such naturalness and sincerity that she detected not the slightest hint of falsehood. After all, she possessed perceptive eyes and mind. She was not someone who could be easily deceived. Her intelligence was enough to see beyond words, to penetrate the essence of the people before her and distinguish truth from lies with unrelenting clarity...
"Then, this Qingyue owes you her life." Xia Qingyue raised her gaze again, meeting his directly, her expression serene yet solemn: "May I know the name of my savior?"
"My name is Ren Zu..." The perfect man before her eyes spoke with the same calm as before.
The name echoed strangely and profoundly in her mind, as if carrying a weight beyond mere syllables. Xia Qingyue repeated it silently, engraving it in her heart before even realizing what she was doing.
"I am Xia Qingyue, disciple of Frozen Cloud Asgard." She inclined her head slightly in a simple yet respectful gesture: "Qingyue thanks the benefactor from the bottom of her heart for saving my life. Had it not been for your intervention, I would already have perished full of regrets at the hands of that profound beast."
"No need to thank me." Ren Zu looked in her direction and replied with absolute tranquility: "It was nothing much."
The simple words caused a subtle warmth to rise once more in Xia Qingyue's cheeks.
"Even if for Lord Ren Zu it was nothing much, for Qingyue it was the difference between life and death." She insisted, her voice now firmer, regaining some of her habitual composure: "A life debt is not something that can be ignored. If the benefactor ever needs anything in the future—anything within my power—Qingyue will do her utmost to repay it."
Ren Zu observed her in silence for a brief moment.
His gaze remained calm and deep, as if those words were merely a light breeze passing over the surface of an undisturbed lake.
"Forget it." He replied, his voice serene and indifferent: "Debts only exist for those who believe in them. I did not save you expecting anything in return."
Finishing his words, Ren Zu turned slightly and walked to the hearth, his steps so silent they barely seemed to touch the wooden floor, as if he simply glided through space. With a casual gesture of his hand, the dormant embers sprang to life again, dancing in shades of orange and gold that spread through the cabin, bringing with them a gentle and steady warmth.
He did not look back as he spoke, as if that conversation were something trivial, fleeting, unworthy of greater attention.
"You were on the verge of death. Anyone with a minimum of conscience would have done the same..."
Xia Qingyue remained where she was, motionless.
Her eyes were fixed on his back, unable to look away. Those words... so simple, so devoid of any desire for recognition, glory, or reward... did not calm her in the least.
On the contrary.
The whirlwind in her chest only intensified, like a flame fed by the wind, causing her heart to beat ever harder in open defiance of the Frozen Heart Arts she had relied on all her life. Not that they had any effect since the moment he appeared before her eyes; at most, they merely allowed her to maintain outward composure and articulate words in a minimally stable manner.
Only she knew how much effort she was exerting to do so.
Xia Qingyue watched in silence as his broad, upright back was outlined by the golden firelight.
She took a step forward, her bare feet touching the warmed wooden floor with an almost inaudible sound. Her voice, when it emerged, was firmer than she expected, though it still carried a softness she did not recognize as her own.
"Lord Ren Zu..."
He paused his gesture but did not turn immediately. He merely tilted his head slightly, indicating he was listening.
"May I... ask a few questions?"
Ren Zu turned then, his black hair falling like a curtain of night over his shoulders. His abyssal eyes met hers with the same unchanging calm.
"Feel free."
The permission was given with such naturalness that it seemed trivial—as if answering questions from a stranger were something he did every day, or as if he simply did not care what she wished to know.
Xia Qingyue took a deep breath, feeling her heart race again. She needed to know...
"What... what is the level of Lord Ren Zu's profound strength?"
The question hung in the air for a moment, laden with expectation.
Ren Zu remained silent for a few seconds, his gaze lost in the hearth flames as if genuinely pondering the question. When he spoke, his voice was low, almost reflective, as if thinking aloud.
"Hmm... how should I classify my profound strength in this world?" He raised an eyebrow slightly—a minimal gesture that, on his perfect face, carried a distant irony: "A place where most have not even heard of the Realm of the Gods... ah, yes, you know it as the Divine Profound Realm."
He paused briefly, his tone calm as if commenting on something banal.
"Consider that the level of my profound strength."
The silence that followed was absolute.
Xia Qingyue felt the world slowly spin around her.
Realm of the Gods.
The words echoed in her mind like muffled thunder, reverberating in every corner of her soul.
Realm of the Gods...
The only clue she had about her mother...
Xia Qingyue's dark eyes widened slightly, her perfect composure cracking for an instant. The blush that had receded returned with force, but this time it was not merely emotion—it was pure shock, mingled with a hope so intense it hurt.
"Realm... of the Gods...?"
Her voice emerged almost as a whisper, trembling, laden with an emotion she could no longer contain.
Ren Zu turned fully toward her now, observing her reaction with a calm bordering on disinterest. But there was something—almost imperceptible—in his black eyes. A spark of curiosity, perhaps.
"Yes. Have you heard of it?"
Xia Qingyue felt her legs weaken for a second.
Was this truly fate?
After so many years searching for clues, suffering in silence, cultivating to her limits just to one day learn about that place... she had found, by pure chance—or was it destiny?—someone who not only knew of the Realm of the Gods but spoke of it as if it were commonplace?
Someone who possessed power enough to erase a Tyrant Profound Beast with a casual gesture... someone who might, perhaps, know the way.
Or even... be the way.
Her heart, already beating wildly because of his presence, now seemed ready to explode.
Her eyes, normally cold and distant, now shone with intense light—a mixture of shock, hope, and something far deeper, something that made her voice tremble when she finally spoke again.
"Lord Ren Zu... do you... come from the Realm of the Gods?"
The question emerged low, almost pleading.
And for the first time, Ren Zu smiled.
A minimal smile, almost imperceptible, that barely curved his perfect lips... but for Xia Qingyue, it was as if the sun had risen inside that frozen cabin.
"So you've heard of it? That's great! I was a bit hesitant to mention it, but yes. I do indeed come from the Realm of the Gods..."
And with those simple words, Xia Qingyue's destiny changed forever.
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