The only treasure land on the snow mountain was in the valley where Xu Pingran lived. There, the earth’s warmth was gentle, and after years of Xu Pingran’s modifications, it was now spring-like all year round.

Even more magical was that the valley’s warmth and the outside cold seemed to have no buffer zone between them. The emerald lake and green grass came to an abrupt halt at the valley’s edge, immediately followed by ice and snow everywhere, scattered jade and broken crystal, as if winter and spring had suddenly descended upon this land simultaneously.

The snow mountain had remained unchanged for so many years, and Gong Yin walked naturally and casually, making those guides even more convinced of their suspicions—this man had indeed stayed on the snow mountain before, otherwise he couldn’t have recognized the roads that looked identical but would lead to eternal damnation if taken wrongly.

Gong Yin paused at the boundary where ice, snow, and spring scenery met, gazing at the valley’s landscape. When he was on the snow mountain years ago, this valley was still barren, and he had never entered it.

The elders watched his boots nervously, afraid he would step forward into the valley and violate the Madam’s prohibition.

However, if he truly stepped forward, it would only be seeking his own death. The valley’s boundary had long been forbidden by the Madam. There had once been wild beasts that accidentally wandered in, dying the moment they stepped on the grass.

One elder tried to extract that shocking news from him, saying in a deep voice: “May I ask, Your Excellency, regarding the whereabouts of the sect master’s son you mentioned, could you inform us…”

“This lake water is quite clear and cold, surely there are fish?” Gong Yin answered irrelevantly, his gaze sweeping across the lake surface before him.

The lake water was azure blue, reflecting the crystalline snow peaks.

“Ah… eh… surely there are?” The elder couldn’t follow his train of thought and answered after a moment’s daze.

“May I borrow a fishing rod?” Gong Yin asked politely but coldly. “The sect master loves eating fish. I want to catch a fish to give him.”

The elders’ expressions became even more bewildered—did the sect master love eating fish?

No one knew, and many had even forgotten what the sect master looked like.

“This… the valley has prohibitions, no one is allowed to enter without orders…”

“I won’t cross the line.” Gong Yin drew a shallow line in the ice and snow, with the valley’s emerald lake on the other side. Beside the emerald lake, among several clusters of flowering trees, stood an ordinary-looking small wooden house.

The elders once again couldn’t follow his reasoning, first standing dumbfounded for a while, then deliberating for a while. After much consideration, though this request was absurd, they couldn’t refuse it. He was fishing on the ice and snow side, with the fishing line crossing the boundary into the lake—this didn’t seem to count as violating the prohibition?

Someone went to find a fishing rod. At the snow mountain’s peak, there were indeed ice lakes with fish at the bottom. Sometimes the snow mountain elders would go there for wild entertainment, though naturally the disciples didn’t have this privilege—they were too busy trying to survive.

They first brought one, and Gong Yin looked at it, saying: “Short, not handy.”

Everyone thought the distance from here to the lakeside was indeed considerable, so they changed to another rod, but Gong Yin still shook his head, saying it was short.

They changed again, still shaking his head.

Fortunately, the snow mountain elders had been worn down by Xu Pingran in recent years and had lost much of their temper. Moreover, those staying behind were naturally steady and proper in temperament. They truly went to search again, finally finding a fishing enthusiast who liked to fish from cliffs into the deep abyss below. This person’s fishing rod was custom-made from thousand-year black iron, tough yet hard, and the fishing line was so long it made people suspect it could circle the snow mountain.

This time Gong Yin was finally satisfied. He took the fishing rod, sat cross-legged at the boundary line, and with a light, skillful flick of the rod, the fishing line splashed into the water with a whoosh, and he actually began fishing.

A group of hemp-clothed elders, white as snow, stood foolishly beside him watching, all feeling this scene was quite strange. This fellow who suddenly appeared claiming to be the sect master and wanting to exchange a great secret for the snow mountain sect master’s position was even stranger. Their group standing foolishly to the side watching him fish was even stranger still. But after thinking for a long time, everyone couldn’t figure out exactly how they should properly treat him.

Someone suddenly remembered something and said: “Your fish hook doesn’t even have bait!”

“No matter.” Gong Yin said lightly. “There’ll be big bait soon.”

Everyone thought he wanted to first catch one fish, then use fish meat to catch more fish?

Fishing was a tedious activity, and watching someone fish was even more tedious. The elders watched for a while, discovered that Gong Yin was indeed seriously fishing, and immediately felt even more foolish. They had to walk aside and discuss what exactly they should do.

Treating him with such respect seemed wrong, but capturing him also seemed wrong. Regarding him as the future sect master seemed unreliable, but treating him as an intruder also seemed improper?

They originally thought he would take advantage of fishing to cause trouble, like poisoning the bait or something, but who knew he wouldn’t even put on bait. What kind of nonsense was this?

Suddenly someone came racing like lightning from the mountain path, shouting from far away: “Stop him! Stop him! He’s Gong Yin! He’s come to harm our snow mountain—”

Everyone’s faces went blank again. Some tried to remember who Gong Yin was, others’ expressions changed drastically.

“Murong Zhen!” An old man shouted loudly. “Are your words true?”

“How could they be false!”

Those present gasped—the name Gong Yin sounded unfamiliar at first hearing because it had been quite some years since he left the mountain. These years, people in the snow mountain knew he controlled the Dahuang political power and that he was a taboo subject for the sect master’s wife. They never mentioned him in daily life, and over time had forgotten. However, hearing this name now, they couldn’t help but feel their hearts and spirits shaken.

This was the only snow mountain disciple in the sect’s history who had stormed the mountain gate with sword in hand, openly left the mountain midway, and caused the Nine Heavenly Gates to lose face!

“How could Gong Yin come here?” One elder asked incredulously. These remaining elders didn’t know what Xu Pingran had gone down the mountain to do. They knew Gong Yin controlled worldly power—how could such a person suddenly abandon political power and come alone to the snow mountain?

Gong Yin still hadn’t turned around, seeming very focused on fishing. At this moment he suddenly said: “Yes, why would I come here? How did I get here?”

Everyone was startled again. The snow mountain’s entrances changed every year. Even if Gong Yin had once stayed on the snow mountain, returning after many years wasn’t something he could do just by wanting to enter.

Murong Zhen was stunned, only now thinking about how he would explain this journey’s disastrous defeat.

How could he tell everyone that he had violated the rules by deliberately leading Gong Yin into the snow mountain, wanting Gong Yin and Xu Pingran to fight each other to mutual destruction, but who knew Xu Pingran wasn’t there, and who knew Gong Yin would inexplicably swagger right into the snow mountain’s inner gates?

“Capture him!” He pointed at Gong Yin, drawing his sword with a clang. “He followed me into the snow mountain, he’s here to assassinate the sect master!”

Figures flashed as the elders surrounded Gong Yin in a circle. Though they hadn’t drawn swords, their eyes were alert.

No matter what, they naturally trusted Murong Zhen more.

“Brother Murong naturally doesn’t want me to have an audience with the sect master.” Gong Yin still didn’t turn around, leisurely casting his line. “I’ve brought back news of the sect master’s son, but he was the one who abandoned the sect master’s son back then. How could he be willing?”

Murong Zhen was stunned, never expecting Gong Yin to suddenly come out with such a statement. This statement struck precisely at his inner weakness. After the shock, cold sweat suddenly soaked through his back.

“Nonsense!” He said angrily. “When have I ever abandoned the sect master’s son?”

“Splash.” A sound of water, and Gong Yin lifted his fishing rod. On the hook, there was indeed a lively black fish jumping about.

But Gong Yin didn’t reel in the line or remove the fish. Instead, with a flick of his finger, he cut the black fish in half and continued to lower the fishing rod back down. It looked like he planned to continue fishing.

“Murong Zhen, if you have no guilty conscience, why not wait for me to discuss the sect master’s son’s whereabouts with the sect master before making your move?”

“Discuss with the sect master?” Murong Zhen laughed angrily. “The sect master has been in seclusion for six years and has never seen outsiders!”

“Does his son’s news count as outsider business?” Gong Yin shook his head. “You’re not the sect master, so how can you know he won’t come out of seclusion for this?”

Murong Zhen was choked again. He was too ashamed to speak of his complete defeat at Gong Yin’s hands, so naturally he couldn’t use this matter to demand the elders take action. Gong Yin had entered the snow mountain openly, looking like a peaceful envoy, claiming to bring news of the sect master’s son. Everyone knew this had always been Xu Pingran’s major concern. Half of the elders present were Xu Pingran’s trusted followers, which was precisely why they treated Gong Yin with courtesy. If he acted to obstruct, those elders’ long swords would probably turn their blades toward him instead.

With nowhere to vent his anger, wanting to endure it but unable to be reconciled, just as he was about to explode, suddenly Gong Yin lifted his fishing rod with a “splash,” and another fish emerged from the water.

But it was no longer the previous black fish. It had become a red fish, twice the size of the black fish, with sharp teeth and blood still at the corners of its mouth.

Murong Zhen was stunned, and all the elders’ faces changed—had the red fish just eaten the black fish?

Were the fish in this lake so large and fierce?

Thinking about it carefully, it wasn’t strange. Everyone knew this valley looked peaceful and tranquil but was actually the most dangerous place on the snow mountain. The dwelling of the sect master and his wife—how could it truly have no arrangements?

In the past, there had been those who couldn’t endure the snow mountain’s harsh rules and fled down the mountain in chaos, or those with ill intentions who tried to infiltrate—snow mountain disciples as well as assassins who desperately broke into the valley. But these people never returned once they entered, not even leaving corpses behind. Every day when the sun rose, the valley’s emerald lake rippled, grass was green and wind gentle, snow foxes appeared, flowers bloomed, unstained by any dust or blood traces.

But many people had guessed—beneath those flowers, within that green grass, at the bottom of that emerald lake, in those snow foxes’ bellies, were there fresh flesh and blood hidden?

Murong Zhen stared blankly at that fish. He felt everything was very strange, but everything was inexplicable. The one he thought would storm up the snow mountain with sword in hand was now sitting with his back to him, fishing. Did he really have to wait for him to finish fishing? This made him feel quite stupid.

More importantly, he felt uneasy.

This feeling was even more unsettling than if Gong Yin had truly stormed up the snow mountain with sword in hand. In the setting sun, that person calmly cast his line, the fishing line accompanied the lake water’s glimmering golden light, water sounds softly whooshing. Though the atmosphere was peaceful and tranquil, he felt the surrounding air seemed increasingly tight, his throat increasingly constricted, and his heartbeat increasingly fast, as if that monotonous motion of casting the fishing rod would hook his heart the next instant.

Gong Yin flicked his finger, adding wounds to the red fish’s body. Fresh blood flowed out, and Gong Yin lowered the red fish back down.

Before long, “splash”—a sound, the fishing rod lifted, this time the red fish was gone, and a larger yellow fish was shaking its head and tail at the line’s end.

Gong Yin still didn’t take the fish, similarly creating wounds before throwing it back into the water. Before long there was another splash, and a white fish larger than the yellow fish leaped up, flinging crystalline water waves, its broad tail like a palm fan stirring up small waves on the lake.

The white fish was also thrown back down to continue serving as bait.

Murong Zhen felt even more wrong.

What was Gong Yin going to fish up next?

These fish were getting bigger with each catch. If he continued fishing, would he fish up a shark?

The elders were also stunned. The fish being caught before their eyes were getting increasingly large, gradually exceeding their understanding of fish. Those fish were also becoming increasingly ferocious, with sharper and sharper teeth—clearly man-eating fish.

What was this person trying to do? Was he trying to fish up giant man-eating fish to harm everyone?

The elders involuntarily slowly surrounded him. Murong Zhen was delighted to see this and quickly made a gesture, signaling everyone to encircle Gong Yin. He himself pounced forward like a cat, reaching to grab his back, shouting: “Whatever important matter you have, once we capture you, you won’t dare not speak…”

“Splash!”

This sound of emerging from water was especially violent, making people worry whether the entire lake had been suddenly lifted. Some elders closer to the boundary felt their necks and backs turn cold, splashed with water all over their bodies. The water was bone-chillingly cold and faintly carried a fishy smell. Everyone looked back in horror, and at first glance only felt as if a mountain had suddenly pressed down. Looking again, they discovered that what was hooked up into midair by the fishing line was a black fish as large as a strong man.

The fish had no scales all over its body, black as stone, with mottled moss growing on it. Who knew how long it had been motionless at the bottom of the water. The fish’s mouth was wide, and at first glance it seemed to have no teeth, but looking again, the teeth were small in the middle and grew larger toward the edges. At the fish mouth’s edges, they were simply as large as wild beast fangs.

The fish was heavy, and the steel fishing rod and sinew fishing line could barely bear it. The line trembled shakily, the rod curved as if about to break. The fishing rod pulled the fish, turning once in the air—

The crowd had never seen such a fish and were momentarily stunned, their necks involuntarily following the trajectory of the fish’s rise, turning a full circle.

After completing this circle, someone finally realized something was wrong. The position where this giant fish was falling seemed to be…

“That’s the sect master and his wife’s wooden house!” Someone suddenly shouted.

“BOOM.” A tremendous sound covered his cry and everyone’s exclamations. The giant fish heavily smashed onto the roof. Such a stone-heavy fish crashing down from high altitude onto the wooden house roof—even if the wood was thousand-year iron wood, it couldn’t withstand this high-altitude collision. With a thunderous crash the roof cracked. That fish was fierce and even bit the wood’s edge with one bite. “CRACK”—it bit the hole in the wooden house even larger.

Before everyone could react, Gong Yin in the distance executing his rod sank and lifted his wrist, and the fish hook suddenly released that giant fish. The fish rolled down the roof with a rumble, while the fish hook like lightning probed through the hole.

“Stop! How dare you damage the sect master’s residence!” Murong Zhen and the elders rushed forward in fury.

Murong Zhen, rushing at the front, suddenly heard Gong Yin softly say something.

He said: “Look, human bait.”

Then he lifted his wrist.

The fishing line trembled leisurely.

Everyone raised their heads.

Like a bolt from the blue, they stood dumbstruck as wooden chickens.