An Icy Encounter and a Fiery Challenge

The night swiftly drew to a close. Fei Miaoyun, it seemed, wasn’t quite audacious enough to engage in ‘play’ while staying in another’s residence.

Having already achieved the pinnacle of the thirteenth layer of Qi Condensation, Xia Yi had opted for rest the previous night, foregoing his usual cultivation.

He had barely stirred from his slumber when a maid, who had been patiently waiting outside his door for what seemed like an age, observed his gradual awakening.

Only then did she venture to invite him to the main hall.

“Honored guest, the Madam requests your presence in the grand hall for an audience.”

“What matter could possibly necessitate such an early summons?”

“Replying to the honored guest, the Madam bade me convey that the esteemed Patriarch and Young Lady have returned, and he expresses a desire to meet you.”

“I see. If you would be so kind as to lead the way.”

“Honored guest, please follow my lead.”

Under the maid’s guidance, Xia Yi soon found himself standing within the grand hall of the Bing family.

Fei Miaoyun and Pei Yunxiang were already seated, conversing merrily and sharing laughter with Chang Zhenli.

The trio of women resembled nothing so much as eager spectators, poised and awaiting the commencement of a grand spectacle.

Perched upon the seat of honor was a middle-aged man of imposing demeanor, his hair immaculately coiffed.

A hint of frosty white at his temples only served to deepen his aura of seasoned experience.

This was none other than Bing Xingwen, the revered Patriarch of the Bing family in Hanhai City.

Upon Xia Yi’s arrival, Bing Xingwen fixed him with an appraising gaze, an oppressive aura characteristic of a Mid-Core Formation cultivator subtly radiating from his person.

“This junior, Xia Yi, offers his respects to Patriarch Bing.”

Despite Bing Xingwen’s subtle display of dominance (TL Note: ‘下马威’ (xiàmǎwēi) refers to an initial show of strength or authority to intimidate someone), Xia Yi remained unperturbed, performing a flawless bow and observing all due courtesies.

Having already contended with the crushing pressure of a Nascent Soul stage cultivator, he now found this comparatively minor Mid-Core Formation display of authority entirely manageable.

“Hmm…”

Xia Yi’s composed demeanor elicited a silent nod of approval from Bing Xingwen, elevating his already favorable impression to new heights.

A Foundation Establishment cultivation, impressive innate talent, and an unwavering courage even when confronted by a Core Formation expert.

Only one final criterion remained…

“Young friend, would you be amenable to a spar with my daughter?”

“By all means.”

A peculiar thought struck Xia Yi: why would a scheme to earn trust necessitate a spar with the man’s daughter?

Could this, too, be an integral part of the grand design?

Nevertheless, given that his own esteemed master had voiced no opposition, Xia Yi dismissed the thought, deciding not to dwell on it.

Moreover, this presented an opportune moment for him to ascertain the true extent of his own capabilities.

Indeed, over the past two months, Xia Yi had been occupied with far more than merely assembling ‘marvelous tools’.

He had also endeavored to unravel the mysteries of legendary spells.

Ever since his last confrontation with Guang Pengyi, Xia Yi had become acutely aware of his deficiencies: the spells he commanded were woefully few, practically amounting to none.

Beyond the Vast Righteous Sword Intent, only the Extreme Yang True Flame retained any semblance of offensive power.

Potent as both techniques were, Xia Yi simply hadn’t utilized their inherent spellcasting potential.

Take, for instance, the Vast Righteous Sword Intent; aside from seamlessly incorporating it into the sword arts Fei Miaoyun had imparted to him, Xia Yi possessed no other methods for its deployment.

Though he recognized the formidable power of both the Vast Righteous Sword Intent and the Extreme Yang True Flame, he remained deficient in effective methods for their application.

Presently, Xia Yi was akin to a monkey handed two AK-47s, yet wielding them as mere water pipes.

It was, to put it mildly, a rather lamentable situation.

Thus, after a period of profound introspection, Xia Yi unleashed his imagination.

He then realized that linking fire with a greatsword bore a striking resemblance to the savior figure from a certain five-character game.

Strikes that sunder the very earth, or the branding of conflict’s name—such feats were undeniably magnificent.

Subsequently, Xia Yi, adapting to his own circumstances, experimented with the game’s techniques, and to his surprise, he genuinely managed to replicate a move or two.

While much of the credit was due to a certain pure immortal spirit root, Xia Yi initially pondered how he might manifest such a colossal, tower-like, mountain-esque greatsword.

Xia Yi merely channeled his spiritual energy, mimicking the movements depicted on the game screen.

Astoundingly, his immortal spirit root autonomously mobilized his spiritual energy, unleashing it through an arcane method, and it truly succeeded!

The only caveat was that its true destructive power remained untested.

Fei Miaoyun and Pei Yunxiang were preoccupied with cultivating a good relationship with Chang Zhenli, while Xuan Shen and Chi Danzi had seemingly vanished without a trace.

In Hanhai City, he had been so engrossed in preparing resources and devising techniques that he hadn’t managed to forge any acquaintances.

Today, however, presented a fortuitous opportunity to ascertain the true might of the two techniques Xia Yi had recently devised.

Furthermore, if his memory served him right, Bing Yingying’s cultivation should now be at the late Foundation Establishment stage, making her an absolutely perfect subject for his experiments.

Driven by these considerations, Xia Yi readily accepted the proposed spar.

“Excellent. Then, young friend, please follow me.”

Having spoken, Bing Xingwen rose and departed the grand hall, with Xia Yi and the three women—Fei Miaoyun, Pei Yunxiang, and Chang Zhenli—following closely in his wake.

The group then journeyed into an intensely scorching secret realm.

Around them, geysers of subterranean fire and molten magma erupted ceaselessly, while the sky above glowed a fearsome crimson.

An uninformed observer might well have believed they had stumbled into the very depths of hell.

Even as Xia Yi found himself marveling at the sheer ‘hardcore’ nature of the Bing family’s training grounds…

…the four arrived outside a towering pavilion.

“Yingying, are you occupied?”

From outside the pavilion, Bing Xingwen’s voice carried a gentle query, yet it met with no immediate reply.

After a brief pause, the pavilion door slowly creaked open, revealing a peerless beauty.

Her silver hair cascaded like a frozen waterfall, and her obsidian-like eyes held an ancient, unyielding frost.

Her exquisite, jade-like countenance shone with the ethereal glow of moonlight, while a flowing blue gauze dress only amplified her innate, chilling elegance.

This was Bing Xingwen’s daughter, none other than Bing Yingying, the second Fated Immortal Maiden from the original narrative.

A single glance was all it took for Xia Yi to perceive a distinct drop in the ambient temperature.

Even within this intensely volcanic environment, an unmistakable chill began to creep into his bones.

Though Bing Yingying, emerging from the pavilion, possessed breathtaking beauty, her gaze was like ten-thousand-year-old profound ice, utterly devoid of emotion.

To her father, Bing Xingwen’s greeting, she offered only the slightest flicker of her eyes, paying even less heed to anyone else present.

It was as if everything in the world, save for her own parents, simply ceased to exist for her, leaving behind an infinite void.

“Yingying…”

Witnessing her daughter’s condition, Chang Zhenli’s heart ached with profound sorrow.

If only she could choose, she would rather her daughter not possess that atavistic bloodline, content even if she were merely an ordinary mortal.

She could no longer recall the last time her daughter’s face had betrayed any discernible emotion.

It was little wonder that Zhen Aoyu, the very protagonist of the tale, had required seven painstaking years merely to earn a direct glance from Bing Yingying.

Only after encountering Bing Yingying did Xia Yi truly grasp the profound meaning of the term ‘ice beauty’—both literally and figuratively.

“Yingying, would you perhaps be inclined to spar with this young friend?”

Upon hearing Bing Xingwen’s words, Bing Yingying didn’t even cast a glance at Xia Yi.

With a barely discernible nod, she conveyed her silent assent.

“Alas, young friend, please bear no ill will.

My daughter’s disposition is simply thus; opportunities to converse with her are fleeting, compelling me to be direct.”

“It is quite alright, Patriarch Bing; I assure you, I do not mind in the slightest.”

“Heh heh, I am grateful for your understanding, young friend.

Now, if you would be so kind as to step forward.”

Xia Yi nodded, then approached Bing Yingying and offered a respectful bow.

“Miss Bing, I humbly request your instruction.”

Bing Yingying, however, seemed utterly oblivious to his presence, her vacant eyes fixated upon him as if he were nothing more than a lifeless corpse.

Xia Yi paid it no mind, instead drawing his spirit sword and preparing himself for the impending spar.

“Prepare…”

As Bing Xingwen’s voice resonated, Bing Yingying finally stirred, producing an ice-blue scythe from seemingly nowhere.

“Begin!”

No sooner had Bing Xingwen’s command echoed than a pillar of ice, utterly without warning, erupted violently from beneath Xia Yi’s feet.

“!”

This instantaneous, ‘zero-frame’ initiation of her technique caused Xia Yi’s pupils to contract sharply.