This bone-chilling scene stunned everyone.
Cai Zhao stammered, “W-why is Chen Fuguang still alive after being swallowed?”
Mu Qingyan, who had learned about exotic creatures from his father, explained, “He won’t live long. The python will crush all his bones and slowly digest him in its stomach—it would have been better to die from the bite immediately.”
Chen Fuguang’s laughter still echoed off the icy walls when a white flash appeared. The python’s long, crimson tongue snatched Qi Nong’s corpse. With a series of muffled crunches, two streams of fresh blood trickled down the sides of the python’s mouth.
With a clink, Qi Nong’s red coral hairpin fell to the ground.
After tricking Chen Fuguang and obtaining the secret manual, Qi Nong must have injured him or pushed him into an ice cave, assuming he wouldn’t survive. Who would have thought he’d be swallowed alive by the python and not die immediately? When Mu Qingyan and Cai Zhao attacked the python’s throat, it was forced to regurgitate its ‘food’, allowing Chen Fuguang to exact his revenge.
Hu Tianwei, terrified out of his mind, ran while stripping off his clothes—first his outer robe, then his inner garments, until he was left with only short underwear.
Qian Xueshen, lying on the ground, laughed maniacally, “It’s useless! Once you’re covered in female snake secretions, the scent will linger unless you bathe immediately…” But there was no water for Hu Tianwei to bathe in this freezing cave.
As if to prove his point, the python, having fully devoured Qi Nong, began to move again, accurately targeting Hu Tianwei. Hu Tianwei had thought of seeking help from Duan Jiuxiu, but after witnessing Qi Nong’s fate, he dared not approach him.
Though Mu Qingyan said nothing, his cold, defensive posture conveyed his attitude.
After several near-misses with the python’s tongue, Hu Tianwei, both furious and terrified, shouted, “If you’re going to kill me, I’ll take you down with me!” He lunged at Qian Xueshen on the ground.
Cai Zhao, who had been watching Hu Tianwei’s escape route, saw his intention to use Qian Xueshen as a shield. She quickly swung her sword, slicing off a huge chunk of ice, and with her left palm, sent it flying towards Hu Tianwei.
Hu Tianwei, not weak in martial arts, saw the ice hurtling towards him and struck out with both palms, shattering it. However, this brief delay was enough for the python to catch up. An intensely cold sensation swept by his side. Hu Tianwei, realizing the danger, leaped frantically to escape, but the python had already opened its mouth, exhaling a white, frosty breath—
Hu Tianwei let out an agonized scream as he fell from mid-air.
Through the misty white frost, the others heard a heavy thud and Hu Tianwei’s heart-wrenching wails.
As the icy mist cleared, the sight before them made everyone take three steps back.
Hu Tianwei’s upper body writhed and wailed on the ground, but his lower half was gone.
He had been a moment too slow in his escape. His lower body, hit by the python’s icy breath, had instantly frozen and shattered upon impact, just like Dongfang Xiao’s.
Like a person cut in half at the waist doesn’t die instantly, Hu Tianwei, though left with only half a body, didn’t die immediately. Blood gushed from his waist like a fountain, forming a large pool.
The extreme pain and blood loss soon took Hu Tianwei’s life. The python eagerly extended its crimson tongue, swallowing the fresh, half-body of Hu Tianwei, crushing it repeatedly in its stomach before fully devouring it.
Now, only four people remained in the python’s lair.
Duan Jiuxiu, his face pale, said, “You’ve all seen it. If we keep fighting among ourselves, we’ll all end up as this beast’s meal. We have no choice but to work together now.”
“Fine,” Mu Qingyan replied curtly.
Cai Zhao turned to see Qian Xueshen lying in a corner, his face ashen, staring intently at Duan Jiuxiu. The hatred and venom in his gaze were unlike anything Cai Zhao had ever seen.
The attack began. The python, seemingly more energized after feeding, whirled its head and swept its tail, filling the ice cave with a storm of ice shards mixed with bone fragments.
Fortunately, Duan Jiuxiu, Mu Qingyan, and Cai Zhao were all agile, with Cai Zhao further aided by her Yan Yang sword. The three spread out, dodging in circles. Whenever the python came close to one, the other two would attack its flank. After a while of this, the python grew impatient and suddenly turned towards Qian Xueshen on the ground.
Duan Jiuxiu, who would have loved to flay Qian Xueshen alive, naturally didn’t move to save him. Mu Qingyan hesitated, leaving only Cai Zhao to rush forward. In a flurry of white and gold-red sword light, Cai Zhao managed to pull Qian Xueshen away from the python’s mouth at the last second, nearly getting caught in its icy breath herself. A lock of her hair froze and broke off.
Overwhelmed with emotions, Qian Xueshen shouted angrily, “Even at this point, you still have to play the saint!”
Cai Zhao shouted back, “Your whole family is dead, leaving only you. When you all reunite in the underworld, your parents will surely be happy! I said I’d help you get revenge later, but you keep whining. If I die here today, it’ll be your fault!”
After yelling, she tossed him into a recessed ice crevice and rejoined Duan Jiuxiu and Mu Qingyan in their struggle against the python.
Qian Xueshen, dazed from being thrown, wasn’t sure if it was due to blood loss or the cold of the ice cave.
In his hazy state, he saw Qi Nong’s red coral hairpin where she had fallen. He heard his aunt’s piercing cries as she held the body of her infant, killed from the fall, weeping in grief. Qi Nong, annoyed by the noise, silenced her with a simple twist of her neck.
The crisp sound of breaking bones and his aunt’s head lolled to one side, never to make another sound.
Most girls from town were reluctant to marry into mountain families, but his aunt and uncle were childhood sweethearts. She had even defied her parents to marry him. His parents, feeling indebted, had sent a large sum of silver as a betrothal gift—though life in the mountains was hard, one could often find larger snow ginseng and hunt fatter game.
His aunt’s father was a good man. He just didn’t want his daughter to suffer in the mountains; it wasn’t about the silver. Soon after the wedding, he returned the silver untouched and even sent a cart of dowry goods.
His parents aunt and uncle were overjoyed, celebrating that night with chicken and wine.
Yes, though life in the mountains was austere, their family had always been happy and content.
His mother often said that once they saved enough silver, they’d move down the mountain to the south, find a place with a mild climate, open a shop or buy some land, and live well together.
“Qian Xueshen, watch out!” the girl shouted in his direction, deflecting a sharp ice shard that had flown towards him.
He was confused—why did she call him Qian Xueshen?
His name wasn’t Qian Xueshen; it was Tao Xiaoshu.
His father was a rough but kind-hearted man with a big beard, and his mother had a round, rosy face.
He had an older brother, Tao Xiaoshan, who was good-natured and strong; a younger sister, Tao Xiaoxi, who was fair, soft-spoken, and adorable; and a baby cousin who hadn’t even been named yet.
That day, the snowstorm was particularly fierce, the sky as dark as night. His sister sat obediently by the fire, roasting sweet potatoes. His aunt sang beautiful mountain songs to lull his baby cousin to sleep. His father and uncle were late returning, making his mother anxious and short-tempered, scolding him and his brother not to misbehave.
“Who knows which wandering martial artists are treasure hunting again! Sigh, if there were any treasures left, they would have been dug up hundreds of years ago! I hope your father hasn’t gotten involved!”
“Sister-in-law, you’re just worried about my brother. Don’t fret, not only the two of them, even Xiaoshan and Xiaoshu know these snow mountains like the back of their hands. They could find their way out with their eyes closed.”
That night, Father and Uncle used their sleds to bring back eight people, making several trips. “The others were buried by snow,” they said. “Alas, what black powder did they use? It caused an avalanche, and they nearly lost their lives.”
The blizzard had turned Father’s beard white, and Uncle’s face had turned purple. Their hands and feet were numb from the cold, and they could barely hold their bowls of hot soup. Mother and Aunt were heartbroken but didn’t say a word about their actions being wrong.
“We who make our living in these snowy mountains should help each other,” Father said, grinning broadly. “Since we encountered them, we couldn’t just let them die.”
Their family had rescued many mountain travelers before. Some were grateful, leaving money or sincerely expressing thanks. Others were ungrateful, leaving without a word or even suspecting the Tao brothers of stealing their belongings.
However, the parents aunt and uncle never minded. “People are a mix of good and bad,” they’d say. “Even if we save just one good person, it’s worth it!”
Little Tao Tree believed this wholeheartedly.
Until that night.
As the eight unconscious travelers gradually woke up, Mother enthusiastically prepared hot wine and chicken soup to help them regain their strength.
Little Mountain and Little Tree had been confined to the house for a day, unable even to see the pair of white-furred puppies they were secretly raising outside. They were restless. As mountain children, they felt uncomfortable staying idle, so they started playing hide-and-seek while their parents aunt, and uncle were busy.
Little Tree lost four rounds in a row. No matter where he hid, his brother Little Mountain always found him.
Frustrated, he risked punishment by hiding in the crawl space under the floorboards—a place used for storing meat, where their mother forbade them to go to avoid spoiling the food.
Little Tree hid in the crawl space of the back storage room for a long time, but his brother didn’t come looking for him.
Growing impatient, he carefully moved around in the confined space.
Suddenly, he saw a sea of red.
He froze, peering through the cracks in the floorboards as he watched eight savage beasts slaughter his family.
His parents lay in pools of blood, their eyes wide open, not understanding why the people they had saved would kill them.
Uncle cried out and rushed to Aunt’s corpse, only to have his head severed by Hu Tianwei’s judge’s brush.
Little Stream, his sister, had her skull crushed, her sweet face twisted like a broken clay doll. His brother Little Mountain fought desperately but was kicked against the wall, dying from a ruptured abdomen.
Hu Tianwei and Qi Nongle laughed heartily.
“They did save our lives, after all. Why not let them die quickly?” said the most refined-looking person.
“Oh, Master Zhou shows such mercy,” Qi Nongle chuckled softly.
Hu Tianwei sneered, “Enough talk. Weren’t you the first to suggest this? You said that although this family isn’t part of the jianghu, they often help mountain travelers. If they talk too much and people discover that you two righteous martial artists are mixing with us ‘evil outsiders,’ the Qingque Sect won’t forgive you. They might even purge you from their ranks!”
Dong Fangxiao coldly replied, “Don’t make it sound so noble. Your master and disciple fear discovery more than we do. We might explain ourselves to the Six Northern Sects, but if you two fall into the hands of the demonic cult, you’ll beg for death. And you, Chen Fuguang—if the demonic cult learns that Chen Shu secretly taught you their techniques, do you think you’d survive?”
“Alright, alright,” Jin Baohui mediated. “We’re all in this together. Killing to silence them is unavoidable. I’ll spend some extra silver to light a long-lasting lamp for this family at a temple. In their next life, they’ll be reborn into wealthy families and enjoy glory and riches. That’s a fair repayment, isn’t it? Hey, Lan, Lan Tianyu, why aren’t you saying anything?”
Lan Tianyu sat quietly in the corner. “I too grew up in these snowy mountains. Those who make a living here must help each other. Alas, I’m truly not human!”
Chen Fuguang said softly, “We have no choice. If our actions are discovered, none of us will escape. Let’s hurry and find the Snow Scale Dragon Beast’s saliva.”
After the slaughter, they set fire to the house, erasing last night’s evil deeds. They didn’t even notice that the Tao family’s youngest son was missing.
Little Tao Tree crouched motionless in the snow, letting the heavy snowfall slowly bury his tiny body.
He didn’t understand what had happened, why it had happened, where to go, or what to do.
The Thousand Faces Elder dug him out of the deep snow before he froze to death, nursing him back to health.
Little Tree told the elder everything and asked why it had happened. The elder sighed, “This is the jianghu. In the jianghu, there are no ‘whys.’ There’s only the strong preying on the weak and endless killing.”
When the boy said he wanted revenge, the Thousand Faces Elder hesitated for three days and nights before deciding to take him as a disciple. Following the Thousand Faces Sect’s custom, he named him ‘Qian Xueshen’ (Thousand Snow Deep).
“You’re a hunter’s son with no resources. How could you possibly take revenge on those people? Even my martial arts aren’t that remarkable,” the elder said. “I had intended to take that ultimate skill to my grave, but your family showed me kindness. I can’t watch you throw your life away.”
At seven years old, Tao Little Tree became Qian Xueshen. He lost everything and was left alone in the world.
At sixteen, he mastered the Body Transformation Technique and bid farewell to the Thousand Faces Elder.
At twenty, he finally uncovered the identities of those eight people—they hadn’t given up and still sent people to search for the Snow Scale Dragon Beast in the mountains, giving him opportunities to investigate.
At twenty-three, he completed all his preparations, waiting only to exact his revenge.
“Ah!” Duan Jiuxiu cried out in pain, struck in the back by Mu Qingyan’s palm.
He was old, after all. His dantian had never fully recovered from Cai Pingshu’s attack years ago, and he was running out of energy after battling the giant snake for so long. Seeing how Cai Zhao’s Blazing Sun Blade was so sharp that even the snake feared it, he tried to seize the blade while the girl was distracted.
But the Blazing Sun Blade wasn’t so easily taken.
Cai Zhao had been training with the blade since she was five, never slacking for ten years. She had spent more time wielding her blade than eating wonton soup. As soon as Duan Jiuxiu’s fingers touched her, she instinctively flipped the blade and swung it horizontally. The edge, as sharp as the blazing midday sun, instantly sliced off two of his fingers.
Mu Qingyan leaped forward, striking Duan Jiuxiu’s back with her palm.
Cai Zhao, despising the old thief, saw the giant snake’s bloody mouth approaching. She thought it better to have one less helper than to let him live. She kicked Duan Jiuxiu hard, hoping the snake’s icy breath would hit him and split his skull open.
Unexpectedly, Mu Qingyan had a better idea. He shifted and delivered another palm strike, adjusting Duan Jiuxiu’s trajectory to send him straight into the snake’s gaping maw. The giant snake seemed momentarily stunned as if confused by food flying into its mouth.
In his frenzied struggle, Duan Jiuxiu watched the snake’s mouth slowly close. Two sharp fangs sealed his fate as hopeless darkness engulfed him. He was swallowed down the snake’s throat.
In the silence, Qian Xueshen heard the clear sound of bones cracking. He knew Duan Jiuxiu’s bones were being crushed one by one in the snake’s belly. Death wouldn’t come quickly; he would slowly rot in the snake’s gastric juices—a painful death.
Qian Xueshen smiled with joy.
“Didn’t you say you had a way out earlier? What’s your plan?” Mu Qingyan asked.
Cai Zhao replied, “There’s water behind this ice wall. We just need to break through it.”
“How do you know it’s flowing water? What if it’s just trapped water in the ice layers?”
“No, it’s flowing,” Cai Zhao insisted. “On our way here, I heard about springs under this snow mountain. The ice is just too thick for them to reach the surface.”
The two immediately began chipping away at the ice wall.
Qian Xueshen thought to himself that while there was indeed flowing water behind the wall, it was thicker than they realized. Breaking through would take a long time, and the giant snake was already starting to move. Would they make it in time?
“This is too slow,” Mu Qingyan noticed the snake’s increasing movement. “Let’s use this to blast the ice wall.” He pulled out several fist-sized black balls from his waist pouch.
Cai Zhao’s lip twitched. “Aren’t those Rainstorm Thunderbolts?”
“Luo Yuanrong made me realize these are more useful for blasting than as hidden weapons. The day you chased me down the mountain, I had some urgently made and sent over, with double the black powder.”
“Your sect certainly has many talented individuals,” Cai Zhao said sarcastically, remembering how her great-uncle Cai Changfeng had died under Rainstorm Thunderbolts.
As Mu Qingyan looked for the best spot to place the explosives, Qian Xueshen suddenly spoke up. “Don’t put them on the ground; the ice is thickest there. Place them higher. Let me set the explosives; I know where the ice wall is thinnest.”
Cai Zhao objected, “You’re injured. I’ll do it; just guide me.”
Qian Xueshen smiled. “This isn’t something I can simply explain. I need to feel it myself to know where the ice is thinnest. You two wait below. Once I’ve climbed up and set the explosives, catch me when I jump down.” He secretly bit his tongue, channeling his last burst of energy.
Cai Zhao looked to Mu Qingyan, who nodded in agreement.
Qian Xueshen hung the black balls around his neck and, with a dagger in each hand, slowly climbed the ice wall. As he climbed, he gently tapped various spots, listening for different sounds behind the ice.
He climbed higher and higher without finding a suitable spot. Meanwhile, the giant snake had fully swallowed Duan Jiuxiu and was rearing its head, exhaling another blast of extreme cold at Mu Qingyan and Cai Zhao.
“Hurry up, Qian!” Mu Qingyan shouted impatiently.
Qian Xueshen ignored him, focusing intently on tapping the ice wall and searching for the weakest point.
Finally, just as Cai Zhao nearly got hit by the icy breath while trying to bind the snake’s mouth for the third time, he found it.
Hearing his call, Cai Zhao exclaimed with relief, “Wait a moment; I’ll catch you once I’m free.”
Mu Qingyan, pulling Cai Zhao by the waist to dodge the snake’s fangs, shot a cold glance upward.
Qian Xueshen understood his meaning and shared the same thought. The snake’s icy breath was too dangerous; once hit, there would be no saving her. How could he let the girl risk stopping to catch him?
The Tao family always repaid debts, whether of gratitude or vengeance.
“Take your time, you two. I’ll look for the flint,” Qian Xueshen said calmly, feigning composure.
Cai Zhao believed him and continued swinging her blade, desperate to drive the snake back.
Suddenly, a tremendous explosion rocked the ice cave. The blast threw Qian Xueshen violently backward.
Deep cracks appeared in the ice wall, rapidly expanding.
A powerful stream of water, pent up for centuries, burst through with thunderous force. The massive water column shot directly toward Mu Qingyan, Cai Zhao, and the giant snake.
The water was indeed flowing—and it was hot.
There was a hot spring under the snow mountain.
One water jet became three, then seven… The cracks in the ice wall multiplied until the entire structure shattered. An overwhelming flood of hot spring water poured into the ice cave.
In an instant, the giant snake’s lair was submerged in a vast expanse of water.