The days following Ye Xuan's first lesson with Supreme Elder Ye Qianlan were a blur of quiet rest. The boy's body, weary from the mental strain of the "threads of light," was allowed to settle. For three days, he played quietly in the Forbidden Moon Courtyard, sat beneath the sakura tree, and let his mind clear.
On the morning of the fourth day, his mother came for him. Yue Lian's white robes drifted in the breeze, her presence carrying the faint coolness of snow even beneath the warm sun.
"Xuan'er," she said, her voice soft but firm, "it is time. Come with me."
He looked up from his wooden sword, his eyes faintly shimmering silver-gold. He stood quickly and nodded.
They walked side by side, their path leading deeper into the Holy Mountain. Guards bowed deeply, though none dared raise their gaze. At last, they stood before crystal doors traced with living frost.
"This is the Frost Hall," Yue Lian said. She touched the doors, and they opened without a sound. "Here you will begin to learn what it means to carry the Moonfrost bloodline."
Inside, the hall was alive with cold light. The walls were carved from unmelting ice, spirit lamps glowing faintly within their depths like drifting stars. The air was sharp and bracing, and the floor was paved with frostglass that pulsed faintly with qi. Each of Ye Xuan's steps sent ripples of silver light across the tiles.
At the hall's center stood a raised platform etched with runes of frost. Yue Lian stepped onto it with the grace of one who belonged, then beckoned. "Come, Xuan'er."
He obeyed. The moment he crossed into the circle, the runes lit softly, and the air sharpened against his skin.
"You have inherited the Moonfrost bloodline," Yue Lian said. "Today, you will begin to understand it." She raised her hand, and frost gathered in the air, shaping itself into phantoms of frost-born warriors.
"The arts awaken step by step," she explained.
The first phantom extended its hand, and faint frost spread into its opponent, who staggered as if their strength drained away. "The first is Moonfrost Touch.
Your qi carries chill into an enemy's body, slowing their circulation and weakening their flow of qi. This is the foundation — and where you will begin."
The second phantom stood within a veil of silver frost, mist curling about its body like armor. "Later comes Frost Veil. A subtle but formidable mantle of frost that shields the mind and chills any who draw near."
"Beyond that lies Frozen Seal," she continued, as a third phantom locked a figure rigid with icy chains. "With gaze or gesture, you can freeze the very channels of qi, halting techniques before they are cast."
Another phantom appeared, its arms wide as a blizzard swept across a battlefield. "At higher realms comes Soul Blizzard — a storm that chills not just flesh, but spirit. Armies falter beneath it."
The final phantom loomed vast, its domain of eternal frost spreading outward. "And at the peak, the Moonfrost Domain. Within it, body, qi, and soul all move as if submerged in ice. Few wills can endure such stillness."
The phantoms faded. "These you will not touch for years," Yue Lian said, her voice sharp. "Moonfrost Touch is enough for now. Remember, Xuan'er: bloodline power is not only strength — it is restraint. Your meridians are still small rivers. Force too much frost through them, and they will shatter. The frost does not hurry. It waits."
Before beginning, she sat and motioned for him to rest against her arm. "You must also know those who bore this power before you." As she spoke, frost gathered again, shaping into new images: the Frost Empress,
Ling Yue, who froze a river to end a war; Xue Han, the Wandering Sage, who brought life to parched lands; Bai Yun, the Moonlit Blade, who walked unseen to end wars without a single battle.
"These were not the strongest," Yue Lian said, "but they endured. That is the way of Moonfrost. To endure is greater than to burn quickly and fade."
"I'll endure, Mother," Ye Xuan whispered.
She pressed her forehead briefly to his, rare warmth softening her eyes. "I know you will."
Yue Lian rose once more and stood on the dais. "Now we begin. The first art: Moonfrost Touch. Watch."
She demonstrated with practiced ease, shaping hand seals until frost qi gathered in her palm. At her touch, a phantom stiffened, lines of frost spreading over its body.
"Your turn."
He copied her seals. Frost qi surged too quickly, and a brittle shell of ice cracked across his hair before breaking apart. He gasped, shivering. Yue Lian caught his wrist, guiding him with a steady warmth. "Not so hard. Guide it gently, like leading water through a channel. Slowly."
Again and again he tried, sometimes producing no frost at all, sometimes shattering it instantly. Each time, Yue Lian corrected his hands, his breath, his posture.
At last, after countless attempts, a faint chill spread into Ye Xuan's palm. Silver frost glimmered weakly across his skin, a fragile promise. It lasted one breath, then two, before fading.
Encouraged by this small victory, he clenched his small fist and tried to push harder. More. The thought was a surge of reckless impulse.
The frost qi, sensing his impatience, surged too quickly. His meridians, too narrow to bear the sudden flood, seized in protest. A sharp pain shot up his arm as frost burst across his palm in jagged shards, cutting tiny lines into his skin. He cried out, staggering back and clutching his wrist as brittle ice cracked and fell away.
"Xuan'er!"
Yue Lian was at his side instantly, catching his trembling hand in both of hers. Steady warmth flowed into his meridians, and the frost shards melted, leaving faint red marks where they had scraped him.
Tears welled in his eyes, but he bit his lip, refusing to cry. "I—I just wanted it to last longer..."
Her voice, though gentle, carried steel. "This is what happens when you force frost before you are ready. It does not yield to impatience. It answers calm guidance—not reckless strength. Remember," she said, her touch a lesson in itself, "frost that grows too quickly shatters its vessel."
She brushed the damp hair from his brow and pressed her forehead briefly to his. "Endurance, Xuan'er. That is the heart of Moonfrost. You must endure—even your own eagerness."
His small fists trembled, but he nodded. "I'll endure."
Only then did she let him stand again, guiding his fingers gently through the seals once more. This time, a faint frost formed, clinging steadily for several breaths before fading. A wave of exhaustion, a profound weariness he couldn't name, finally broke over his small body. He swayed, his legs threatening to give way.
Yue Lian was there instantly, her hands a steadying warmth on his shoulders. Her gaze was a gentle mirror of his, sharing his relief and his fatigue. She did not speak of the frost, but of the boy himself.
"You have taken the first step," she said softly. "The frost waits, and so must you."
That same afternoon, in a different courtyard of the Supreme Pavilion, Li Shen stood beneath a lantern with a wooden spear, his stances as firm as mountains. His younger sister Li Mei loosed bamboo arrows, laughing as she struck or missed.
From the veranda, their grandfather watched. "Children of the Li… yet Ye blood runs in them as well," he whispered. "Already the boy's aura is steady, the girl's spark lively. And the Frost Hall stirs too — they say the child there gathers frost mist at four years old."
Back in the Frost Hall, Ye Xuan swayed, but then straightened. He tried again. The mist trembled, then held for three steps before collapsing. Yue Lian nodded faintly. "Better. The frost will answer in time."
Hours passed. His legs ached, but he pressed on.
Finally, a steady veil clung to him as he walked across the dais, lasting five breaths before fading.
He turned to his mother, eyes shining. "Mother, did I do it?"
"You did," she answered. "That is your first step."
He swayed with exhaustion, and Yue Lian drew him into her arms. His breathing slowed against her shoulder, his small hands still twitching as if forming seals even in sleep.
Outside, the Frost Hall's wards glimmered. Array masters reinforced them often, muttering of unusual currents stirring within. Guards bowed low when Yue Lian emerged, carrying her sleeping son. A faint mist still clung to him even in dreams.
Servants glanced up, eyes widening, but none dared speak. They bowed lower, letting whispers carry only once she had passed.
"The frost waits," Yue Lian murmured, her voice almost a prayer. "And so will you."
Lanterns flickered as she walked the silent corridor, carrying her son deeper into the destiny of the Ye Clan.