Chapter 54#
By Bihu Lake, Xue Jingci sat for a full seven days.
In the first few days, the lake water surged violently, churning white waves, then became calm, reflecting all things.
As time passed, the water grew increasingly hot. Swimming fish struggled to leap from the surface, only to be swept into countless terrifying whirlpools that funneled into pitch-black abysses.
Xue Jingci tried several times to leap into the lake to investigate, but the system held him back.
“This is his own trial. You jumping down won’t help. Instead, it would disturb his mind.”
The system looked up at Xue Jingci, and for the first time, it saw its host reveal such anxiety and panic.
After thinking, it added: “You might become a variable.”
Xue Jingci slowly released his clenched fists. The sweat in his palms was blown cold by the icy wind from the snow mountains.
He sat back by the lake, his eyes fixed firmly on the water’s surface. Even the slightest ripple made his heart race.
On the sixth day, the lake suddenly froze solid.
A waterfall dozens of meters wide, pouring from the mountain’s peak into the lake, suddenly stilled the moment it touched the water, instantly frozen into a towering curtain.
Bihu Lake had never frozen before, no matter how cold the years. Legend held that if it froze, a sage descended.
Others said that when it iced over, it would eternally freeze evil people stained with sins at the bottom, their souls never finding transcendence.
Learning that Bihu Lake had frozen, nomads and monks from a hundred li in all directions rushed over.
First, they clasped their hands and bowed toward the snow mountain. Then they knelt, circling the lake while chanting scriptures.
No one knew whether this omen was inauspicious or auspicious.
Xue Jingci stood, staring fixedly at the lake surface.
His snowy white sleeves fluttered in the wind. Suddenly, the sky shifted in turbulent clouds. Wild wind bent grass and trees, and beasts scattered in panic—as if a downpour was imminent.
Then the wind suddenly stopped.
A beam of golden light pierced through thick black clouds, scattering across the lake.
From within the ice crystals, a shadow emerged. Its shape was unclear, not black, but tinted with a glassy color.
That shadow landed upon the frozen waterfall, vaguely materializing into a massive human form that instantly illuminated the entire lake with flowing light.
A force of heaven and earth spread outward, melting the ice and snow. In moments, spring warmth and blooming flowers appeared.
Xue Jingci unconsciously extended his hand.
The air was blown by wind as substantial as real objects. A flower gently spun down into his palm.
From the lake’s depths surged forth a magnificent, pure power.
Xue Jingci’s power represented devouring and slaughter. This power, however, contained compassion that embraced all things.
This force, completely opposite to him, naturally made Xue Jingci instinctively wary.
He couldn’t help but step back several paces. The massive black shadow behind him flickered, then quickly vanished.
As if sensing his movement, that thread of pure power suddenly surged toward him.
Xue Jingci’s eyes flashed with ferocity. Yet that power merely gently wound around him, eventually dispersing and fading.
The sound of ice cracking echoed from the lake. A man with eyes tightly shut stepped out from the water.
There was nothing beneath his feet. His entire form moved through emptiness, walking step by step toward the shore.
No one knew who knelt first, but very quickly all nomads and monks surged forward in a tide, kneeling and bowing toward the lake’s center.
“The snow mountain’s deity has descended!”
No one dared raise their head to look. Only Xue Jingci somehow stood before that person.
Xue Jingci lifted his eyes to look at Pei Huang.
He was covered in water vapor. A layer of crystalline frost quickly formed on his skin, even his eyelashes decorated with white ice crystals.
Xue Jingci drew upon the few strands of spiritual energy he’d painstakingly cultivated. He extended his hand to Pei Huang’s face, dispelling the cold for him.
Warmth fell upon his face. Pei Huang finally reopened his eyes.
His thoughts were still somewhat hazy. He only remembered his soul falling into the agony of being torn apart, then gradually adhesing back together.
In a daze, he heard a gentle voice.
“Are you cold?”
Pei Huang tried to respond, but his body collapsed forward uncontrollably, falling into a slender figure’s embrace.
That person tried to lift him, but Pei Huang instinctively reversed roles, wrapping his arms around that person’s waist and nestling his head against their neck.
Xue Jingci didn’t push Pei Huang away. Though he’d just activated his bloodline power, his brow and eyes still carried a frosty aura, sharp as swords.
The sound of chanting drifted faintly around them. Feeling that person’s obedient, quiet demeanor, Xue Jingci’s tightly wound heart finally softened.
Sensing someone noticing the commotion, the system finally reacted, using accumulated points to directly transmit the two to a clean place.
It meowed excitedly: “Excellent! This little rascal is finally safe, and his power has greatly increased.”
“We should get back to business now. You still remember why we entered this world, right?”
Xue Jingci certainly remembered. Even without Pei Huang coming here, he would have come himself.
Because in this world, he also had a task—to close the passage connecting the two worlds.
Before this, he’d hesitated because Pei Huang’s matter wasn’t yet complete, so he never carried out this task.
Seeing Xue Jingci silent, the little cat anxiously approached, using its paw to point at the distant hard rock wall.
“Host, this is where the two worlds interconnect. You need to…”
Xue Jingci interrupted: “Not urgent. We’ll talk after Pei Huang wakes.”
The system stared at him for a while, then laughed wickedly.
“I knew you’ve been avoiding the task because of Pei Huang!”
Xue Jingci ignored it, gathering dried branches from the ground and starting a campfire.
The firelight reflected on his face. Those eyes, always cold and clear, now revealed a hint of confusion.
He couldn’t help but wonder—between the two worlds, which one was really Pei Huang’s home?
In the original world, Pei Huang had lost his family. But this place was different. His power was inseparable from this world.
Lost in thought, Xue Jingci heard movement and knew Pei Huang was waking.
He suppressed his thoughts and asked: “How do you feel?”
“I’m fine,” Pei Huang said hoarsely.
He slowly sat up and looked at Xue Jingci in the firelight.
He didn’t remember what happened while unconscious, but clearly, he couldn’t have appeared here from the lake shore by himself.
Xue Jingci had brought him.
Pei Huang lowered his gaze to his own palm. The firelight fell upon it, faintly illuminating the outline of a flame pattern.
According to legend, the Burning Hell bloodline, powerful enough to destroy heaven and earth and annihilate all things, now rested quietly within his body.
He lifted his eyes to Xue Jingci, suddenly finding the scene very familiar. Upon careful thought, it seemed to be the exact place he’d first seen when passing between the two worlds.
This place hid the passage connecting the two worlds. But Xue Jingci had been unconscious that day. How could he know of this place?
Xue Jingci looked at Pei Huang, seeming to have something to say but hesitating.
Pei Huang took the initiative: “You have something to tell me?”
Xue Jingci asked him: “Will you stay here, or return?”
Pei Huang answered without hesitation: “Of course I’ll return.”
“I still have many things to do.”
Xue Jingci finally relaxed. But very quickly, his mood sank again.
He’d never questioned the tasks assigned by the main system.
Carrying out tasks was all that mattered.
But this time, he wavered. If he truly sealed this place, wouldn’t Pei Huang be eternally separated from his remaining family?
After all, if he didn’t seal it, perhaps Pei Huang could return someday.
Xue Jingci looked at Pei Huang, suddenly asking: “Will you come back?”
Pei Huang stared at Xue Jingci, keenly sensing a shift in his emotions.
Suspicion stirred in his heart. Xue Jingci’s appearance beneath the cloud sea perhaps wasn’t coincidence. Perhaps he was meant to come to this world.
Pei Huang didn’t understand Xue Jingci’s purpose, but he didn’t mind.
He simply didn’t want to see this person troubled.
After thinking, Pei Huang shook his head: “No, I won’t.”
“I don’t belong here.” Pei Huang recalled the bruise-colored characters on Jinchi’s arm, a special emotion rising in his heart. He spoke seriously: “As long as I know that somewhere in a distant world, family exists, I’m already content.”
“My friends, my… everyone I care about is in the original world.”
Xue Jingci looked at Pei Huang. Both knew the other harbored secrets, yet both tacitly refrained from asking.
This trust had no reason, yet it existed so genuinely.
Xue Jingci no longer hesitated, picking up the small cat: “How should I proceed?”
The cat swished its tail: “This concerns two worlds. We need to contact this world’s system. Host, try sensing this world’s system.”
Xue Jingci nodded, recalling the moment of binding with the system. He closed his eyes and released his divine sense.
Soon, an excited voice resonated in his mind: “Host, you, you finally came! I’m 6B!”
The little cat, hearing this voice, huffed unhappily, claiming ownership: “This is my system. We merely stumbled here by accident.”
6B paused, sighing with disappointment.
Through their conversation, the little cat and Xue Jingci learned that 6B’s host had never arrived despite many years, and no one knew if they were dead or what happened.
6B observed Xue Jingci—that exquisite face, skin as pale as jade dipped in snow mountain waters—and couldn’t help quietly telling the little cat: “Your host looks rather frail.”
The little cat explained: “He was recently betrayed by a disciple and suffered imprisonment…”
6B became respectful: “I see. Alas, the great way is indifferent. How can emotion compete with the allure of immortal destiny? Don’t be too sad. Though he’s currently fallen, once given a chance to grow, he’ll surely create tremendous waves in the immortal sects…”
Then it remembered its own overdue host, sighing: “In any case, you at least have a host. My host, I’ve heard, possesses great power, cold temperament, ranks first in all thirteen subjects. Very skilled at helping fate’s chosen ones reverse their fortunes.”
“Because of his delay, the fate’s chosen child who should’ve fought bloodline royalty and restructured the world’s order now still cuts pig grass in a remote village.”
The system grew increasingly uneasy, feeling imminent doom—no, sweat.
It quickly squeezed out two tears: “Oh, how tragic.”
6B nodded: “The matter of sealing the passage between worlds—let me research it. I’ll find you tomorrow.”
After 6B left, the system timidly held Xue Jingci’s arm, swinging it coyly.
It softly asked: “Host, when you came out from the main god’s space, which door did you enter?”
Xue Jingci recalled: “The third one on the left side.”
“…!!!”
The little cat’s ears perked up, nervously averting its gaze.
No wonder the host always insisted on recruiting disciples and initiating teaching mode.
The host had accidentally entered the wrong door because the two worlds’ entrances were too close!