The fishing line lifted.

Something burst through the roof and rose tremblingly into the sky.

Everyone looked up and felt their vision go dark, as if a thunderbolt from clear skies had suddenly struck down.

At the end of the fishing line, what was hooked was actually a person.

That person sat cross-legged with head slightly lowered, body seemingly somewhat plump, exposed skin grayish-white with scales, looking mottled and spotted. A head of grayish-white long hair hung down covering the face. Though the sun had not yet set and the light in the valley was warm and bright, that posture still made people feel an indescribable wrongness, full of sinister air. Just looking at that figure made one’s heart turn cold.

That person at the end of the fishing line felt much lighter than the fish, swaying and trembling leisurely.

The snow mountain elders stood with mouths agape, so shocked they couldn’t even cry out.

That wooden house was the dwelling place of the sect master and his wife and the sect master’s seclusion chamber. For so many years, no one had ever entered, nor could anyone have entered.

Could it be that with one cast of his rod, Gong Yin had actually hooked out the sect master?

How was that possible?

Looking again at that “person” hanging stiffly at the line’s end, light as nothing, everyone gasped again.

They were all experts, and at this moment a terrible thought swept through their minds—this didn’t look like a living person!

It looked more like a… mummified corpse.

How could the sect master be a mummified corpse?

Where had the sect master gone?

All this time, had it been this mummified corpse here?

Before they could think clearly while breaking out in cold sweat, Gong Yin flicked his hand and that hooked “person” flew up. Everyone was stretching their necks and widening their eyes, waiting to see that “person” fly closer for a clear look, but they saw Gong Yin hadn’t reeled in the rod at all. With another “splash” of water, he actually threw that “person” back into the water again.

Everyone looked at each other—could it be that this time he wanted to use the mummified corpse to fish? What exactly was he trying to do?

For a moment they didn’t know whether to stop him or let him continue. Fishing couldn’t be managed, but using a person hooked from the sect master’s wooden house to fish seemed rather wrong?

That “person” sank into the water, and immediately waves surged in the lake. This normally quiet lake now had many fish rushing up, clustering in groups, all crowding and biting. From afar everyone could see various colored fish tails stirring up waves and spray, packed closely together, apparently competing for food. The water surface was soon covered with a layer of white flake-like things.

This scene made people’s hair stand on end. Murong Zhen stood dazed for a long while, then suddenly shouted harshly: “What are you all standing there watching for! Stop him!” His figure flashed as he reached to grab Gong Yin’s shoulder.

Gong Yin’s body flashed to dodge, changing direction to continue casting his hook. But Murong Zhen suddenly paused, looking down at his own hand, then at Gong Yin’s back that never turned around.

After a good while, joy burst from his eyes, and he suddenly threw back his head in wild laughter, the sound so wild and triumphant it startled another surge of fish in the lake.

All the snow mountain people looked at him in amazement, not knowing what madness had possessed him. Murong Zhen laughed heartily for a while, then suddenly pointed at Gong Yin. “I wondered how you could be so bold—turns out it’s all just mystification! Gong Yin! Has your true qi already dissipated!”

Though he posed it as a question, his tone was certain. When he struck just now, he clearly felt that the icy sword-like aura that had originally been in Gong Yin’s body had dissipated. The inner power system of the snow mountain was special—whether one concealed inner qi or not, the ice and snow cold air within the body never melted. Even snow mountain elders like him could sense it. Once the cold air was gone, either the person’s time was up or they faced the state of power dissipation.

Everyone was startled. Ever since seeing Gong Yin, though they hadn’t fought, this person’s bearing, grace, and methods all gave people a sense of outstanding mystery. Though he hadn’t lifted a finger, he had stunned everyone into following his rhythm in confusion, not daring and unable to act rashly. Could it be that this was all his smokescreen?

“Kill him!” Murong Zhen’s ice sword flashed with sword light.

Gong Yin flashed in place again, changing to another direction, turning his head to speak lightly to him: “Murong Zhen, do you want to usurp power and rebel?”

“What?” Murong Zhen was stunned.

What did killing an enemy of the snow mountain have to do with usurping power and rebellion?

Gong Yin nodded his chin toward the lake, saying calmly: “If you obstruct me now and delay important matters, you have ulterior motives and covet the snow mountain’s highest position.”

“Still using scare tactics and delaying time?” Murong Zhen sneered coldly. “I don’t understand—I kill you, a madman who betrayed the snow mountain and disturbed the sect master. This is meritorious without fault. What does it have to do with usurping power and rebellion?”

“If your conscience is clear, then wait another quarter hour.” Gong Yin kept staring at the lake water. The lake water rolled in clusters, those fish seeming to be making quite a commotion, apparently much fewer in number. The disgusting white flakes on the water surface had disappeared, replaced by a layer of light red meat-like fragments, even more disgusting.

“Delaying time for whom to be your reinforcement?” Murong Zhen chuckled. “Go wait in hell instead!”

The cold wind sharpened, the ice sword hung inverted like silk, a line of bright light stabbing straight at Gong Yin’s back.

“Clang.” A light sound, and three or four ice swords appeared in the air, lifting Murong Zhen’s ice sword. The counterattack force sent Murong Zhen tumbling backward, spinning once in midair before landing. When he landed, his face was already slightly flushed red as he angrily said, “Elders!”

“This matter seems suspicious. What harm in watching another quarter hour.” A hemp-clothed old man sheathed his sword, saying coldly.

“Since you say he has already lost his power, sooner or later he’ll be our snow mountain’s prisoner. Why rush for this moment.” Another middle-aged man lightly wiped his sword.

“His actions are strange, and we still don’t know the cause and effect. Rashly killing him, we’ll have no way to explain to the Madam afterward. Better to wait until the truth comes out.” Another elder stepped forward.

Murong Zhen stood in place, fists tightly clenched under his sleeves, veins bulging at his temples, gritting his teeth fiercely.

Most of the remaining elders were also Xu Pingran’s trusted followers. Though he was the sect master’s younger brother, he had never gotten along with Xu Pingran, so these people naturally wouldn’t listen to him.

Gong Yin must have calculated this point, which was why he dared swagger here. He had wanted to use Gong Yin and Xu Pingran to fight each other, but instead was used by Gong Yin, exploiting his discord with Xu Pingran to act as he pleased on this snow mountain.

“You are all careless today!” he said angrily. “Be careful not to have no burial place tomorrow!”

“Is Elder Murong threatening us?” An elder of greater seniority replied coldly.

“This person acts coldly and is cunning and intelligent. Better to kill wrongly than let go!” He pressed closer.

“Does Elder Murong take all the snow mountain crowd for dead waste?” A young elder retorted sarcastically. “Or were you once defeated by him, so once bitten by a snake, you fear well ropes for ten years?”

“You!”

The two factions argued heatedly. Gong Yin paid no attention, as if the argument behind him had nothing to do with him. The fishing rod in his hand lifted lightly, the light red meat fragments on the water surface were also gone, replaced by a layer of slightly black water, with even fewer fish visible.

Sunlight reflected on his brow and lashes. His face was pale as frost, but his eyes still gleamed, pupils crystalline and dark as black agate.

His expression remained calm. Only those closest to him could probably see a trace of joy in his eyes.

Years of searching, extensive speculation, analysis of various information and clues—today, it would finally be verified.

This game would have an ending no one could have imagined.

But time was not on his side. Having exhausted his heart and strength to support himself until now, he could only stop here. This present scenery of precipitous cliffs, these myriad snow peaks ahead—in the future, he would probably have to wait for her to come and level them…

Leaving one matter for her to do was also good.

Leaving one thread of connection, even if it was a cord of hatred, would bind her attachment to life and drive her to charge across this Dahuang land with thunderous momentum and blade-like fire.

The fishing rod suddenly emitted a slight tremor.

Gong Yin’s gaze flashed.

Yes!

He suddenly lifted his wrist!

“Splash!”

Both arguing sides heard the strange sound and suddenly looked up, once again crying “Ah!” with mouths wide open.

Above the lake surface, the fish hook had come loose.

That “mummified corpse” hooked by the fish hook was now floating on the water.

His figure had suddenly become much thinner, clothes basically gnawed to tatters by the school of fish, the layer of grayish-white scales on his skin was gone, and the originally stiff-looking limbs and torso now seemed to have recovered their softness. Though the person was on the water, everyone felt he seemed to move with the current, sitting on water without sinking.

Under the setting sun, he was on the lake, but his clothing was gradually drying bit by bit, his hair gradually rising bit by bit. The grayish-white hair gradually turned black, sunlight and rippling light together dancing and flashing gold at his hair tips.

Everyone held their breath, as if seeing iron trees bloom, dead wood meet spring, the elderly return to youth, heaven and earth return to primordial chaos.

Only Gong Yin’s lips curved slightly, as if seeing faint desolation.

Seeing him restore his prime years with white hair turning black, seeing him empty of all things with black hair turning to frost.

Destiny alternated in reincarnation, passing through this spring to glimpse that winter.

The person in the lake slowly opened his eyes.

Everyone felt a sudden sharp pain before their eyes.

That person’s eyes were not large, but extremely black and deep. At one glance, they seemed like a deep abyss, like an endless cold pool, like the clear vast sky, like the mysteries of the mortal world at the end of starlight, seeing the alternation of human life and the surging of worldly affairs, yet not knowing whence they came or whither they went.

The lake surface originally had spring wind brushing willows, but now it seemed only those eyes remained, silent and majestic, gazing upon this snow mountain.

Murong Zhen stared blankly at those eyes, his legs went soft, and he suddenly knelt on the ground.

A snow mountain expert couldn’t even support his own body.

The other elders had long prostrated themselves on the snow, foreheads touching the scattered chaotic ice and snow, bodies trembling all over. Because of excessive excitement and shock, their cries had become incomprehensible low murmurs.

After a long while, Murong Zhen said hoarsely: “…Big brother… Sect Master!”

That person’s black and profound gaze swept over. Everyone felt like they were facing a black gale, but that gaze didn’t fall on his younger brother or the elders, but looked toward Gong Yin.

After a long while, he said: “Gong Yin?”

His voice was hoarse, unlike human speech, and his pronunciation unclear, as if he hadn’t spoken for many years.

Gong Yin stood up and bowed slightly—not out of respect for the sect master, but because no matter what, there had once been half a teacher-student relationship.

“You…” The sect master’s gaze circled over him, slightly surprised, but under Gong Yin’s restraining look, he didn’t speak. After a moment of silence, he said: “I grant you one thing.”

Gong Yin sat back down calmly.

Between strong individuals, there was no need to say much, no need for petty haggling.

No need to ask how Murong Chou, the dignified snow mountain sect master, had fallen to this state. No need to claim today’s merit and negotiate conditions with Murong Chou. The moment Murong Chou awakened, he knew what he should do.

“Release my family.” Gong Yin answered calmly as well.

No one knew that behind this simple journey and light sentence lay so much heart’s blood, yet finally there came this day to speak.

Murong Chou was not surprised. After a slight silence, he said: “I don’t know where they are.”

When saying this, a flash of cruel and hateful light passed through his eyes.

Hating his own careless misstep, hating Xu Pingran’s deep scheming, hating her deception that led him to qi deviation, hating her use of drugs to deepen his deviation until his limbs gradually stiffened and his tongue gradually failed, like a living dead person who could only sit daily in the wooden house, listening to her control the snow mountain, erode power, issue false orders and alter decrees, change the snow mountain’s rules of many years, and before his face turn the snow mountain into her place of rampant power lust.

Even more hateful were those days and nights of lost freedom, still having to listen to her pretentious acting, hear her various ambitious schemes, and be subjected to her unbridled “fulfillment of wifely duties…”

His body trembled slightly. Even someone with mountain-like determination, thinking of that point, couldn’t quite control his true qi. Ice layers suddenly spread beneath him with crackling sounds, shooting out like ice swords, piercing many fish in the lake that couldn’t escape in time. Fish blood stained half the lake red, yet couldn’t approach beneath him.

Such passion and fury suppressed for six years, yet when meeting Gong Yin’s calm, deep black eyes, the cold light converged.

“I know.” Gong Yin stared into his eyes, answering lightly.

Murong Chou was startled. From Gong Yin’s tone and expression, it seemed his family was nearby?

When his family was captured initially, he hadn’t participated and hadn’t paid attention. It was all arranged by Xu Pingran alone. Afterward he had never seen anyone from the Longying family. All these years, he sometimes thought the people of that family were already dead. But thinking back, Xu Pingran acted cautiously and would certainly keep leverage to control Gong Yin.

As if understanding, his gaze lowered.

The emerald lake before him was filled with fish swimming about, but those fish had wide mouths and sharp teeth—something seemed strange about them.

He had been paralyzed for many years, his limbs full of poison. Just now Gong Yin had put him in the water, letting these fish gnaw away the poison on his body and a layer of skin. The poison under the skin had also dispersed, but ordinary fish would certainly die on contact with him, unless…

“These fish don’t fear the poison on your body because they were raised on the same poison.” Gong Yin stared at the fish on the lake surface. “Kept in this lake, day and night, affected by certain trace toxins, slowly mutated, developing resistance to this poison in their bodies. Animals sometimes have better adaptability than humans.”

Murong Chou nodded slightly.

“And your wife,” Gong Yin’s lips curved with slight mockery, “acts prudently and won’t take risks without complete assurance. So the poison she used on you and the poison used to control my family must be the most powerful poison. And in this world, there aren’t many such powerful poisons.”

Murong Chou remained silent.

The snow mountain people dared not rise, listening with cold sweat covering their bodies—what did this mean? The sect master’s condition was caused by the Madam?

“Such precious poison, Xu Pingran naturally wouldn’t use to feed fish. So where did this poison come from?” Gong Yin stood up and walked toward the lake.

Murong Chou raised his finger, flicked his fingertip, and a stream of frost shot out, withering a patch of grass. Gong Yin calmly walked onto it. This green grass was also poisonous, but had now been neutralized by Murong Chou.

Murong Chou now understood Gong Yin’s meaning.

The fish had been changed by poison slowly seeping from the lake water, becoming poison fish, then today using poison to fight poison, curing his poison. That poison came from Gong Yin’s family, so they must be imprisoned near the lake, with passages connected to the lake water, so that due to insufficient sealing, the poison dispersed and slowly permeated, finally seeping into the lake water and raising a school of strange fish.

He looked at Gong Yin once, his gaze deeper—this matter sounded simple, but to think of it, effortlessly in front of snow mountain enemies, using such methods to hook him up and cure his poison, making him have to repay him—Gong Yin’s wisdom approached that of gods and immortals.

Before his eyes seemed to flash a youth white as snow, one sword moving the snow mountain, one sword shattering jade city. He had been so brilliantly talented then that even he was unwilling to let the tiger return to the mountain, yet was defeated in that youth’s gamble and had to fulfill his promise.

Years later, suddenly opening his eyes, he was before him—first hooking the Tianmen sect master, second transforming deadly poison, third saving family.

Thinking of how he had left the snow mountain with sword in hand, becoming the snow mountain’s public enemy, and many years later re-entering the snow mountain, he himself had actually been saved by him—he couldn’t help feeling mixed emotions. But thinking again, in this vast world, besides him, who else could?

Not knowing whether to be angry or pleased, fortunate or sorrowful, whether to lament that the snow mountain had no one or that the snow mountain was fortunate to have formed a connection with him.

Only…

He glanced at Gong Yin’s complexion and smiled mockingly to himself.

Originally, even if he released Gong Yin’s family today, he would certainly keep Gong Yin’s life.

Such a strong enemy, if left alive would surely bring disaster. In another ten years, no one in Tianmen could stop Gong Yin.

Tianmen’s safety was more important than everything—all worldly gratitude could be set aside.

But now, it was no longer necessary.

He slowly rose and lightly walked a circle on the lake surface.

Though still wearing robes gnawed somewhat tattered by fish, his bearing remained noble and elegant—that was the nobility belonging to the Tianmen sect master. Even if dragged through mud, he must maintain a proud posture in his wretchedness.

Wherever he passed, the lake water gradually whitened as thick ice condensed.

The ice layer continued extending downward, gradually freezing the entire lake.

The lake water had originally been deep blue-green, making the bottom invisible, but now that crystal-clear ice had formed, one could indeed see on the lake’s western shore a bronze door.

Murong Chou beckoned to the group of elders still kneeling.

The elders approached tremblingly. Murong Chou walked to shore, pointed at the ice, and made an upward lifting motion.

The elders hesitated somewhat, not knowing if doing this would provoke the Madam’s great anger, but the sect master stood behind them, those eyes black and forest-cold, like an icy great cauldron covering people, making their hearts feel a chill.

Thinking that after today, the snow mountain’s situation would probably change, they themselves should be more tactful at this moment. They all hurriedly bent down, each finding suitable positions, reaching into the ice with fingers like hooks, grasping the ice layer, all exhaling and calling out together, suddenly lifting upward.

“Crack.” With one sound, the entire lake of frozen water was actually lifted by several elders.

Pulling up the lake to open the door, revealing daylight at the lake bottom.

The lake had now become a deep pit. That bronze door sat quietly closed. Murong Chou went down before the bronze door, looked at the lock, gave a cold laugh, and traced with his finger. That particularly complex-looking lock had already fallen.

The bronze door slowly opened silently. Behind it was a black, deep tunnel with no light penetrating—it looked like a deep throat waiting to devour people.

“Go.” Murong Chou said. “She’s very confident. So there won’t be any more traps inside.”

Gong Yin stepped lightly forward. Murong Chou stepped back, watching his snow-white figure about to disappear into darkness.

Gong Yin suddenly stopped.

“There’s another transaction.” he said.

Murong Chou said coldly: “You saved me once, I return your whole family. Don’t be greedy and harbor more delusions.”

“Don’t you want to know your son’s whereabouts?”

Murong Chou gave another cold laugh, saying: “He naturally…” Suddenly shocked into silence, he said incredulously: “My son?”

Gong Yin paused.

He suddenly felt Murong Chou’s reaction was somewhat strange.

But at this moment there wasn’t much time. He could only say: “This is another transaction between you and me.”

“He died. Died in early childhood.” Murong Chou regained his calm, saying indifferently.

“He’s alive.” Gong Yin’s gaze fell into the long tunnel, as if trying to see through this dark end to find where the path home lay.

“In the future, if a woman comes to the snow mountain, she will tell you where your missing son is.”

“Conditions?”

“Protect her life.”

Murong Chou remained silent, then after a long while said: “How can I trust you?”

“Whether you believe or not is up to you. This is your only chance to know his whereabouts.” Gong Yin said lightly. “Remember, don’t harm her.”

“Oh?”

Gong Yin turned his face. His face was extremely pale in the darkness yet seemed to emit light. Murong Chou suddenly felt suffocated.

“If you harm her,” though his tone was light, it rolled and spread through this dark tunnel, “the snow mountain will surely be destroyed.”

Murong Chou gave a cold laugh, wanting to say something, but Gong Yin had already turned and entered the tunnel.

Murong Chou watched that tall, snow-white figure step by step disappearing into the deep end, a strange feeling suddenly rising in his heart—as if this glance was the last glance, as if this parting was a farewell to the ends of the earth, as if this figure would walk toward the ends of heaven and earth without stopping, until far from these worldly disturbances and earthly conspiracies, becoming that point of flowing light and brilliant stars on the horizon.

He stood transfixed before the bronze door, involuntarily clenching his palms, which gradually became damp with sweat.