[Time Remaining: 4 Days, 12 Hours, 05 Minutes]
"The mountain is tall."
I looked at the paper.
"The snow is cold," she added, writing the next line with perfect, soulless calligraphy. "Cultivation is eternal."
I sighed. I put my brush down.
"Ancestor," I said gently. "That is not a poem. That is a weather report."
Ling Shuang sat on the other side of the low stone table. We were back in her cave. The air was still freezing, but there was a new addition: a small vase holding the blue flower I gave her yesterday.
It was the only spot of color in the entire grey room.
"I do not understand," she said, frowning at the ink. "The mountain is tall. The snow is cold. Is this not truth?"
"It is fact," I corrected. "Poetry is not about facts. It is about feeling."
She looked at me blankly.
"Describe the mountain not as it is," I said, leaning forward, "but how it makes you feel."
"It makes me feel... small," she whispered.
"Good. Write that."
She hesitated. Her hand hovered over the paper. The brush trembled—not from weakness, but from uncertainty. For a woman who could slice a thunderstorm in half, looking inside her own heart was clearly the hardest battle she had ever fought.
She dipped the brush.
She wrote.
I watched the characters form.
The world was white silence.I stood on the peak, and I was the snow.Cold. Perfect. Alone.Then blue petals opened.Like eyes that saw me.For the first time in six hundred years,I exist to someone.
I stared at the paper.
My chest tightened. It wasn't a masterpiece of literature. It was raw. It was painful. It was the sound of a heart breaking out of a cage.
"Ling Shuang," I whispered.
She didn't look up. She was staring at the words, her eyes wide.
"I..." Her voice cracked. "Is this correct?"
"It's perfect."
"It hurts," she said, touching her chest. "Here. It aches. Have I been poisoned?"
"No," I smiled sadly. "That's just... being human. It hurts to care."
She looked up at me. Her ice-blue eyes were shimmering.
"Do you regret it?" I asked. "The seclusion?"
Silence stretched between us. The glowing moss on the ceiling cast long shadows.
"I thought power would fill the emptiness," she said softly. "I reached the peak. I looked down. And there was nothing but clouds."
She looked at the blue flower in the vase.
"Now... I wonder what else I have missed."
A strange sound escaped her throat. It was short. Breathless.
She covered her mouth, shocked.
"What was that?" she asked.
"That," I grinned, "was a laugh. A small one. But it counts."
She lowered her hand. The corner of her mouth twitched upwards.
"A laugh," she tested the word. "It feels... light."
[CRITICAL HIT][Target: Ling Shuang][Romance Progress: +30%][Status: AWAKENING]
[SYSTEM]:Boom. You just melted the iceberg. Good job, Titanic.
"Shut up," I thought at the blue box.
Ling Shuang looked at me with an intensity that made my skin prickle.
"Chen Wei."
"Yes?"
"Stay here."
I froze. "What?"
"Stay on the peak," she said. "I do not wish to be alone anymore. The cave... it is too quiet now."
My heart hammered. This was moving fast. Too fast.
"I—"
BOOM.
The mountain shook. Dust fell from the ceiling.
A magical voice, amplified by Qi, thundered across the entire sect.
"THE HEAVENLY DAO SECT WELCOMES THE IMPERIAL ENTOURAGE!"
Ling Shuang's face changed instantly.
The vulnerability vanished. The smile evaporated. The ice wall slammed back down so hard I could almost hear it crack.
Her eyes narrowed.
"She is here," Ling Shuang hissed.
"Who?"
"The Empress."
She stood up. The temperature in the cave dropped to absolute zero. The ink in the well froze solid.
"Wu Meiyin."
The name carried hate. Deep, ancient, blood-soaked hate.
"Oh," I said, backing away slowly. "You two are... friends?"
"Friends?" Ling Shuang laughed again, but this time it was sharp. Dangerous. "We sealed a continent together. And then she tried to stab me in the back."
She turned to the entrance.
"Do not let her charm you, Chen Wei. She is fire. And fire consumes."
[SYSTEM ALERT]
[NEW TARGET DETECTED][NAME: Empress Wu Meiyin][AGE: 500 Years][CULTIVATION: Nascent Soul (Mid-Stage)][STATUS: Heaven Chosen Woman #2]
I blinked. I read it again.
"System," I whispered. "What does '#2' mean?"
[SYSTEM]:Did I not mention?
"Mention what?"
[SYSTEM]:You need to romance her too.
I choked on my own spit.
"WHAT?!"
[SYSTEM]:Romance Cultivation requires balance. Yin and Yang. Ice and Fire. You have the Ice. Now you need the Fire.
"Are you insane?!" I hissed. "They hate each other! Ling Shuang just said she wants to kill her!"
[SYSTEM]:Correction. They are rivals. Drama is the spice of romance. Now get moving. The Tournament is starting, and you're the main event.
"I hate you," I groaned. "I hate this. I want to go back to being a virgin."
[SYSTEM]:Too late, Casanova. The Harem Protagonist Protocol is active.
We walked out of the cave.
The sky was split in half.
Above the Ancestor's Peak, the sky was a deep, freezing blue. But to the East, a massive fleet of flying ships was approaching. They burned with crimson light, painting the clouds the color of blood and gold.
Fire and Ice.
And me, standing right in the middle, wearing a robe that was slightly too big.
"The Tournament," Ling Shuang said. Her voice was calm, but her fists were clenched. "You must participate."
"Do I really have to?" I pleaded. "I have a doctor's note. It says I'm allergic to death."
"You must," she said, looking down at me. "Because she will be watching. And I will not let her say that my chosen companion is weak."
She grabbed my shoulder.
"Win," she commanded. "Show her that the ice bites harder than the fire."
She shoved me toward the cliff edge.
"Wait! I didn't agree to be your champion!"
"Fly, Chen Wei."
I jumped.
As I plummeted toward the chaotic sect below, watching the massive Imperial flagship dock at the main plaza, I realized my life had officially gone off the rails.
I had an Ice Ancestor on one side. A Fire Empress on the other. And a System that thought this was a reality TV show.
[SYSTEM]:Episode 5 concludes. Next episode: The Ex-Girlfriend Drama. Popcorn is ready.
I activated my Qi and soared toward the arena.
"If I survive this," I muttered, "I'm charging admission."