He didn’t feel anything while getting out of bed, but after walking a bit, Jiang Luo started to feel the discomfort in his body.
It was a withering kind of fatigue, like dried-out plants—weak limbs, exhausted spirit. Jiang Luo tried to use spirit-channeling again, but found his whole body aching with stabbing pain. He couldn’t even form a single character.
Only then did he remember—he had used up all of his internal qi in the dream.
Jiang Luo’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. His spirit had entered the dream, but not his body—so qi must be something that resided in the soul?
But it made sense. After all, Jiang Luo was a genius, but the original host wasn’t. The only difference between them was their soul.
He strolled off to find Ji Yaozi and together they went to bid farewell to Daoist Elder Wei He.
On the way, Ji Yaozi asked in confusion, “Didn’t you say you’d wait until you mastered spirit-channeling before leaving the mountain?”
Jiang Luo hid his discomfort and said calmly, “I’ve already learned it. There’s going to be a trial soon down in the city. Just in case anything happens, I should go now.”
Ji Yaozi was stunned. “You mastered it in one night?”
Seeing Jiang Luo nod, Ji Yaozi grew curious. “What did you channel? Show me!”
Jiang Luo glanced at a withered tree nearby. “I channeled wood.”
“You might not know,” Jiang Luo added slowly, “but I really like plants and flowers. I tried a lot of things last night and none felt quite right. In the end, using plants for spirit-channeling suits me best. I won’t show it off just yet—I’m still not that practiced. Once I’ve mastered it, I’ll show you a proper demonstration.”
Ji Yaozi frowned slightly, a little disappointed. “Wood, huh.”
After using spirit-channeling in the dream, Jiang Luo had immediately realized how terrifyingly powerful it was. He’d only used a single “water” character and nearly drowned an entire city. With thousands upon thousands of Chinese characters, each brimming with unique power—and paired with his extraordinary qi—he was practically made for this.
He decided the moment he woke up: this technique would become his trump card.
It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Ji Yaozi, but the fewer people who knew about a trump card, the greater its surprise in battle. Especially since Ji Yaozi was close to the Fated One, whose abilities were unpredictable—even brainwashing. What if he told Ji Yaozi, and the Fated One extracted that information?
To play dumb while holding a sharp blade—that was the smartest move.
Jiang Luo gave Ji Yaozi a glance and deliberately asked, “What, plants aren’t good enough?”
Ji Yaozi shook his head. “All things have spirit—no type is inherently better or worse. Plants are perfectly fine. If you train that path to its limit, it’ll still be a powerful technique.”
As they spoke, they arrived at the quiet chamber of Daoist Elder Wei He. When Daoist Elder Wei He heard Jiang Luo was leaving, he didn’t try to stop him. He only teased, “Look at you—your master just left yesterday, and now you want to leave too. Alright, alright, I won’t keep you. For young people to stay patiently here even a month is impressive enough. Once you’ve packed, I’ll have one of the boys escort you down the mountain.”
Jiang Luo thanked him and, seeing the tired look on the Elder’s face, took the initiative to excuse himself and leave the room.
After saying a few words to remind Jiang Luo to cultivate diligently, Ji Yaozi left, and Jiang Luo returned to his room to pack up.
He didn’t actually have much to pack. With just his phone, wallet, and a ginseng spirit, he was all set. Jiang Luo stuffed all three into his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and couldn’t help but think—his resignation and departure went much smoother than he’d imagined.
He had thought there would be some resistance. Who would’ve thought Daoist Elder Wei He would let him go down the mountain so easily?
Before long, Jiang Luo found the little novice who led him off the mountain.
Today was a fine day, with the blazing sun shining brightly. Sunlight streamed through the windows and cast warm beams on the ground. In a quiet room, motes of dust stirred in the light. A man with waist-length white hair stood silently by the window, watching Jiang Luo’s figure disappear through the doorway.
After a long pause, the Fated One said, “He said he channelled wood?”
Faced with the Fated One’s question, Ji Yaozi dared not lie. He sighed and said, “That’s what he said.”
Daoist Elder Wei He stood beside Ji Yaozi, eyes lowered in feigned ignorance, pretending to know nothing.
“Wood has spirit and is warm in nature,” the Fated One chuckled softly. “He might indeed have chosen wood, but the spirit of wood may not necessarily have chosen him.”
“You mean…” Ji Yaozi hesitated. “He lied?”
The Fated One shook his head. “Not necessarily. A twig in a child’s hands may be woven into a flower basket, but in some hands, it can become a deadly weapon. Though wood is gentle, it is also tenacious. If he truly loves wood, perhaps its spirit will respond to him.”
He closed his eyes, his bloodless fingers tapping gently on the windowsill. “Send someone to test him.”
Daoist Elder Wei He suddenly looked up, face going pale, and stared at the Fated One in fear.
***
The little novice escorted Jiang Luo out of the formation. Much of the snow on the mountain had already melted. Jiang Luo strolled along leisurely, and as he reached halfway down the mountain, someone called out behind him, “Senior Brother Jiang Luo! Wait for me!”
Jiang Luo turned around to see Lian Xue cheerfully running up with her bag slung over her back.
He raised his eyebrows and waited for her to catch up. “You’re going down the mountain too?”
Lian Xue nodded, catching her breath. “Martial Uncle just told me to head down and check on the younger disciples at the ancestral residence.”
“So sudden?” Jiang Luo asked.
“I thought so too,” Lian Xue’s cheeks were flushed from the run. “But Martial Uncle said you were leaving today too, so I could travel with you. It’s safer in case anything weird happens on the mountain again. I just finished packing when the novice told me you’d already left. Luckily, you weren’t walking too fast, or I wouldn’t have caught up.”
Jiang Luo thought to himself: If I weren’t feeling so weak, you really wouldn’t have.
They walked down the mountain together. Jiang Luo’s pace was slow—Lian Xue assumed he was being considerate and was touched.
“Senior Brother, you don’t have to go so slow for me. I can walk faster.”
Jiang Luo gave a gentlemanly smile. “It’s fine. We’ve got plenty of time. No rush.”
After another half hour, they passed by the villa where they had once been trapped.
Lian Xue glanced at the villa, uneasy. “Senior Brother, let’s walk faster. That place still creeps me out. I wonder if Chi You’s ghost is still inside…”
As soon as she mentioned that name, Jiang Luo thought of the heated, back-and-forth kiss in the dream. He pursed his lips, suddenly thirsty. He took a sip of hot water from the thermos hanging on his backpack and mumbled, “Who knows.”
But every word Chi You had spoken in the wooden house echoed through Jiang Luo’s mind again.
It suddenly came back to him—Chi You had told a story about a Yuki-onna.
Every word Chi You said had deeper meaning. That Yuki-onna definitely wasn’t just some random story. Jiang Luo recalled Chi You’s expression and tone—everything hinted at more.
“Lian Xue,” Jiang Luo asked casually, “you mentioned a snow goddess on the mountain before. Do you know much about her? Is it possible for her to possess a human, or—”
His words cut off abruptly. A shiver ran down his spine as a sense of danger exploded in his mind. He instinctively rolled to the ground, narrowly avoiding a flurry of sharp ice spikes that shot at him from behind.
Jiang Luo looked up in disbelief—three meters away stood Lian Xue.
Her lips were pale, a layer of frost covered her face. Her eyes were empty, as if her soul had been taken. Frost crept from her hair downward, covering her entire body in an instant.
A blizzard raged around her. Her eyes, lifeless like stagnant water, locked onto Jiang Luo. She raised her hand toward him.
The storm howled as it surged toward Jiang Luo. He barely dodged it before another attack flew straight at his face. Raising his arms, he struggled to block the freezing wind and snow. Looking at Lian Xue, who seemed like a completely different person, he finally cursed, “Sh*t!”
What the h*ll is this?
Godd*mmit, why now—when his body was weak and his qi was completely drained?
Jiang Luo tried summoning the Yin-Yang hoop’s Yin Tiger, but just as his spirit had weakened, so too had the ring. He couldn’t even summon the lesser Si Snake, let alone the mighty Yin Tiger.
D*mn it.
He dodged Lian Xue’s attack again by a hair’s breadth, gasping for breath as he braced himself in the snow. Warily, he watched her approach, step by step.
“Lian Xue… Lian Xue…” In a flash, all the small, previously overlooked clues came together, and the truth became clear. Jiang Luo clenched his fingers, expression darkening. “So you’re the Yuki-onna.”
No—judging from how blank and mindless Lian Xue looked, she was more likely a vessel possessed by the Yuki-onna… or perhaps she carried a shikigami (spirit servant) of ‘snow’ sealed within her.
No wonder—no wonder in the overheard conversation between Daoist Elder Wei He and Lian Xue, Wei He had said, “If it truly comes to a life-or-death crisis, someone among you will emerge to protect the rest.” Wasn’t he referring to people like Lian Xue within the Lian family, who, when pushed to the brink, would enter an uncontrollable state where their power surged?
It was practically like a divine descent.
Past details floated up in Chi You’s mind—the story hint about the yuki-onna, the sudden eerie snowstorm, Lian Xue’s suggestion during the King’s Game that everyone look in the mirror, her tendency to fall ill with fevers in snowy weather…
And the black-robed ghost he burned down in the mirror world—no wonder the ghost feared fire. That was clearly Lian Xue in disguise. Of course a yuki-onna would fear fire. One touch of flame and she’d melt into water.
No wonder everything in the mirror world felt so neatly arranged, like a rehearsed play. Turns out, whether it was the black-robed ghost or the four people “killed” by it, they were all just actors placed by the one pulling strings behind the scenes—the Fated one.
But it seemed even Lian Xue didn’t know she was the yuki-onna herself. She must be the Lian family’s secret trump card. So why did she suddenly attack him?
Jiang Luo’s mind was spinning fast. Then he bit his lip and figured it out.
Lian Xue belonged to Daoist Elder Wei He. And Wei He served the Fated One. Daoist Elder Wei He cared for Lian Xue and wouldn’t let her be exposed easily. But the Fated One would show no such favoritism. Lian Xue had been sent by the Fated One.
So—was the Fated One trying to kill him?
No. If the Fated One wanted Jiang Luo to kill Chi You, he wouldn’t risk letting Jiang Luo be harmed.
There was only one explanation left: the Fated One had learned that Jiang Luo had mastered spirit-channeling, and was now testing whether his powers were real.
A sharp pain throbbed at Jiang Luo’s forehead.
If they’d sent in someone as valuable as Lian Xue to deal with him, then the Fated One and their people must be hiding somewhere, watching all of this unfold. Jiang Luo had told Ji Yaozi that he had channeled the Wood element, so the Fated One must know his spirit was Wood-based. If he had any qi left in his body, Jiang Luo would’ve controlled a plant to prove his power right then and there. But that was the problem—he couldn’t.
His body was weak, his abilities unavailable, and talismans had no effect on Lian Xue. All Jiang Luo could do was keep watching for her weaknesses, shaking the Yin-Yang hoop as hard as he could, trying to summon the strongest zodiac spirit he could manage at this moment.
Ten seconds later, Brother Monkey appeared, arms crossed, clearly annoyed.
Jiang Luo’s expression twisted slightly.
One thought flashed through his mind: Heaven wants me dead.
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