Winterfell, Eastern District Airport.
As he stepped off the plane, a fierce wind cut through the air, and snowflakes drifted down like fragile paper, covering everything in sight.
Seated in a wheelchair, Feng Qi let Gu Ke push him toward the exit of the airport.
Even wrapped in thick clothing, he could still feel the cold seeping into his bones.
This city was not unfamiliar to him.
On a previous sacrifice timeline, he had lived here for a period alongside the Mist Lord.
Back then, even in a short-sleeved shirt, he could stand against this harsh climate without the slightest discomfort.
But his body was no longer what it used to be. He could feel the marks that time had carved into him.
His vision often blurred, especially upon waking, and it would take a while before he could clearly make out his surroundings.
There were times he felt exhausted for no reason, where he would be in the middle of something, only to suddenly find himself drifting into unconsciousness.
He also found himself constantly slipping into old memories—any random sight could pull him back into a past scene.
But at least, he had made it this far.
As long as he could find Mu Yan in Winterfell, this sacrifice line would have been worth it.
Even if death still awaited him, he would have no regrets.
Upon exiting the airport, he arrived at a pre-arranged meeting point.
Waiting for him were members of a team he had sent to Winterfell long ago to conduct investigations.
The leader was a man wearing black tactical sunglasses.
He stood at about 1.85 meters, with a muscular and well-built physique. His expression was stern and disciplined, exuding an air of authority and righteousness.
His name was Di Cong, 36 years old, a former top graduate of Breaking Dawn Academy's Combat Division.
After graduating, Di Cong had originally intended to head straight to the frontlines. However, Feng Qi had recruited him into Tiger Soul Research Institute, where he became part of Tiger Soul's subordinate warband.
During his service, Di Cong had consistently performed with excellence. Eventually, through rigorous selection, he was appointed leader of the Winterfell investigation team, quickly rising through the ranks within just a few years.
It was Di Cong who had sent back the latest intelligence regarding Mu Yan's possible presence.
"Old Feng."
Seeing the elderly man with white hair and a weary expression, Di Cong bowed respectfully. The imposing presence he carried as a warband leader vanished completely in this moment.
Feng Qi nodded slightly.
"Di Cong, you've worked hard all these years."
Hearing this rare praise, the battle-hardened warrior looked momentarily flattered.
Under Di Cong's arrangements, Feng Qi boarded a pre-prepared vehicle.
There were three cars in total. Feng Qi was seated in the middle vehicle, escorted by the other two as they made their way toward the outskirts of Winterfell.
Di Cong sat in the same car as Feng Qi.
During the ride, he reported the intelligence gathered over the past years.
At one particular report, Feng Qi's brows furrowed slightly.
Di Cong stated that Winterfell had recently implemented a new "National Fitness Program"—a special cultivation method being promoted among the entire population.
It was a sword-based technique that, when combined with a specific breathing method, could increase the body's ability to absorb spiritual energy.
Feng Qi had already heard about this through previous reports from Di Cong.
At the time, he hadn't thought much of it.
After all, pushing for public fitness was not something unique to Winterfell.
Star City, Old Day City, Future City, Victory City, and many other affiliated cities had similar public cultivation programs.
For example, the popular "Cultivation Gymnastics" was a simple exercise routine designed for widespread use.
But now, considering the possibility that the Sword Clan was secretly operating within Winterfell, he couldn't help but suspect that this public fitness program might be a cover for something far more sinister.
As Di Cong continued his report, he would occasionally glance at the old man sitting before him.
This battle-hardened warrior, a man in his forties, no longer carried the same strict and commanding demeanor he usually showed to his subordinates. Instead, his tone was nothing but respectful.
Because he understood.
And because he respected.
After some time, the convoy finally arrived at their pre-arranged safehouse.
It was a small estate in a remote area, surrounded by a forest of snow bamboo—far from the bustling city center, minimizing any potential disturbances.
Feng Qi settled in.
For the next few days, Di Cong led his team in searching Winterfell for any trace of Mu Yan.
Feng Qi, meanwhile, remained at the estate, waiting for news.
He wanted to join the search, but his body simply wouldn't allow it.
Finding Mu Yan was a mission that had to be carried out in absolute secrecy.
Seeking help from Winterfell's leadership was out of the question.
The current political landscape in Winterfell was extremely complicated. If word got out that Feng Qi was looking for Mu Yan, it would immediately draw the attention of hidden domain factions.
Especially now that he strongly suspected that the Sword Clan was operating within Winterfell.
If the Sword Clan had already encountered Mu Yan, then they undoubtedly knew her physical description.
Going to Winterfell's leadership for assistance would be like handing himself over to the enemy.
If those in power were in collusion with the Sword Clan, then disclosing Mu Yan's features would alert the enemy to his involvement with her.
He would most likely be captured and tortured for information.
At that point, not only would he fail to meet Mu Yan, but he might also be eliminated before he could get the answers he sought.
He had waited for over a century for this moment.
He refused to let a small mistake cost him everything.
Di Cong searched for three days.
Feng Qi waited for three days.
But after three days, there was still no sign of Mu Yan.
The question of how to locate Mu Yan had become a critical issue, yet he had no clear answer.
Based on the intelligence gathered so far, Feng Qi began analyzing Mu Yan's situation.
Her recent battle with an unknown faction—most likely the Sword Clan—had lasted for half an hour.
This indicated that Mu Yan did not have an overwhelming advantage during the fight.
There were three possible outcomes to that battle.
1. Mu Yan was defeated and fled with injuries.
This could explain why she needed Mu Qing's help.
2. Mu Yan won, and the opposing faction was wiped out.
3. Both sides held back, leading to a stalemate where they each retreated.
As for whether Mu Yan might have died in the battle—
Feng Qi dismissed that possibility entirely.
Feng Qi dismissed the possibility that Mu Yan had perished in battle.
If Mu Yan had died, the subsequent changes in history would not have occurred. While his presence had already altered history, its influence on Winterfell remained limited. Even if there was an impact, it wouldn't be enough to suddenly create an unprecedented superpower within this sacrifice line.
The real issue troubling him now was whether Mu Yan was still in Winterfell.
If she had fled the city after the battle, locating her would become an immense challenge. He had no means of contacting her.
After waiting for several more days with no results, Feng Qi knew he couldn't afford to sit idle any longer.
Without cooperation from Winterfell's governing institutions, attempting to find Mu Yan with just a small team was like searching for a needle in a haystack.
He had to take action.
Working with Winterfell's upper ranks was out of the question.
That left only a handful of covert organizations that could aid him.
The first option that came to mind was the Domain Weak Tribe Alliance of Winterfell.
But after some deliberation, he abandoned the idea.
Collaborating with Winterfell's Domain Weak Tribe Alliance carried significant risks.
It was unclear whether the alliance remained autonomous or had been infiltrated by a hidden power.
If its situation mirrored that of Star City's Weak Tribe Alliance, then reaching out to them would be akin to walking into a death trap—just like when Yin Ling had unknowingly placed a bounty on his head through Star City's alliance, only to be manipulated into an assassination attempt.
If Winterfell's alliance had similarly fallen under the control of hidden forces, then posting a request through them would immediately expose his plans.
After weighing the risks, Feng Qi discarded this investigation method.
Over the next few days, a new plan began forming in his mind.
Since relying on Winterfell's official institutions was unreliable, he needed an alternative approach.
His greatest advantage was intelligence.
His knowledge of Mu Yan far exceeded that of any hidden domain faction.
This information—known only to him but unknown to the enemy—was his best tool for finding her.
With his plan in mind, Feng Qi immediately set things into motion.
That very day, he instructed Di Cong to establish connections with Winterfell's media outlets and public communication agencies.
Winterfell, Western District.
Late Night.
"I'm so hungry…"
On a deserted street, Mu Yan trudged forward, her posture slumped as if her spine had been removed, her movements sluggish.
Her battle against Jian Ji had left her physically unscathed, but it made her painfully aware that, in her current state, she was no match for him.
This realization frustrated her.
Restoring her full strength was not going to be easy.
After returning to the human world, she had discovered that she had lost her connection with Yao Ri.
Her usual method of increasing her power had been severed.
"It must be that bastard Mo Yue's doing!"
Gritting her teeth in anger, Mu Yan instinctively swung a punch forward, as if striking Mo Yue's chubby face.
She had uncovered a hidden domain faction operating within Winterfell—but she was powerless to do anything about it.
Her strength remained dormant, and her methods of regaining it had been cut off.
She began considering whether she needed external help to eliminate the hidden domain forces within Winterfell.
As she contemplated her next move, a rich, mouthwatering aroma drifted from afar.
Her slumped body straightened immediately, and her eyes lit up as she followed the scent.
At the end of her vision, she spotted a domain beast meat restaurant.
Beneath its neon sign, large red lanterns swayed in the cold wind. A wooden sign by the entrance advertised holiday discount promotions.
Food had always been her weakness.
Without hesitation, Mu Yan strode toward the restaurant, pushing open the door.
The moment she stepped inside, a wave of warmth washed over her, a stark contrast to the icy world outside.
The air was thick with the scent of grilled meat, and her eyes sparkled with excitement.
The restaurant was already filled with customers, but she quickly found an empty seat and sat down.
A waiter spotted her arrival, walked over with a smile, and handed her a menu.
"What would you like to order?"
Flipping open the menu, Mu Yan saw high-resolution images of various dishes, so lifelike that she could almost smell the rising steam.
She hesitated briefly before a brilliant smile spread across her face.
"I'll have one of everything!"
"Uh…?" The waiter looked momentarily confused.
"I mean, everything on the menu," Mu Yan clarified with a grin.
"Are you sure… you can finish it all?"
The waiter was taken aback but quickly composed himself, repeating his question just to confirm.
After receiving Mu Yan's firm confirmation, he nodded.
"Some ingredients are out of stock due to front-line supply shortages…"
"Then just bring me everything you do have!" Mu Yan cut him off before he could finish.
Once the order was confirmed, the waiter hurried away with the menu.
With nothing else to do, Mu Yan idly glanced around while waiting.
Seeing the other customers devouring their meals, she wiped the corner of her mouth, her eyes burning with anticipation.
Then, a news broadcast on the restaurant's central TV screen caught her attention.
"This is a sponsored message, brought to you by Mr. Tian Shu. He has something he's kept buried in his heart for a long time and wants to say to Miss Mu Yan:
'Miss Mu Yan, from the moment I met you, I fell deeply in love.
As the New Year approaches, I have gathered my courage to confess—I want to be with you…'"
The overly dramatic confession sparked laughter throughout the restaurant.
A middle-aged man chuckled while shaking his head, sighing, "Young people these days…"
Mu Yan's eyes widened.
Σ(っ°Д°;)っ!!!
"Eh~!"
"Little Shu? Didn't he go to the Path of Ascension?"
Her mind was instantly filled with a hundred thousand questions.
As the commercial ended, the host on the screen smiled and announced:
"Mr. Tian Shu invites Miss Mu Yan to a candlelight dinner at XX location in Winterfell's eastern suburbs on XX date…"
Once the sponsored message concluded, the broadcast returned to normal programming.
"That guy must be rich. I saw the same confession ad in Winterfell's Central Plaza earlier today… This Tian Shu fellow must have serious financial backing. I wonder which company's young master he is. Never heard of him before." (A middle-aged man)
"Look at him, then look at you! You don't understand romance at all!" (A certain young woman)
"Romance? Please. This is just throwing money around." (A boy mumbling under his breath)
…
Staring at the TV screen, Mu Yan frowned.
After some careful thought, she concluded that Tian Shu probably didn't post this ad.
She raised him personally and knew his character well. He would never make a joke like this.
There had to be someone else behind this advertisement.
Who could it be?
Mu Yan fell into deep thought.
"It shouldn't be that domain swordsman from yesterday."
Whoever it was not only knew her name but was also aware of Tian Shu's existence. That meant they had significant knowledge about her.
As Mu Yan pondered, the aroma of food wafted through the air.
A waiter arrived, carrying a large platter of charcoal-grilled domain beast meat.
All her worries vanished instantly.
"Hehehe."
Her face lit up with excitement, and as soon as the waiter set down the tray, she immediately dug in.
If Feng Qi were here, he would find this scene incredibly familiar.
Her eating style was practically inherited—from Wei Wei to Mu Qing, and now to Mu Yan, they all ate in the same uninhibited, ferocious manner.
Even their post-meal satisfaction ritual—rubbing their stomachs in delight—was identical.
Winterfell, Eastern Suburbs, Snow Bamboo Forest.
Rain and snow fell intermittently.
A large tent had been set up in a clearing within the bamboo forest.
Wrapped in a thick winter robe, Feng Qi sat at a temporary dining table. Behind him stood Gu Sha, his posture rigid and upright.
In front of him, a grand feast was laid out on the table.
But he lacked the appetite to enjoy it, only taking small sips of medicinal tonic.
The fireplace beside him radiated waves of warmth, keeping him from succumbing to the cold.
On the fire, a bottle of wine was being warmed—not for himself, but for a long-awaited friend.
According to Wei Wei, Mu Yan used to love drinking "Thousand Leaf Wine", so he had prepared it in advance.
Everything was ready.
Now, all that remained was for Mu Yan to appear.
The night was deep and dark, the stars dim, and the dancing firelight illuminated the swirling snowflakes.
Beyond the fire's glow, the shadows were as thick as ink.
As he waited, Feng Qi's head grew heavy, and he almost drifted off to sleep.
This decaying body of his was becoming harder and harder to control.
"Not now… just hold on a little longer," he muttered, rubbing his hands together to keep himself awake.
He massaged his temples, forcing himself to stay alert.
The appointed time arrived, yet Mu Yan did not appear.
Time continued to slip away.
Seeing Feng Qi struggling to keep himself upright, Gu Sha finally stepped forward and whispered in concern:
"Old Feng, perhaps Mu Yan isn't coming. Your health is more important—why don't we head back?"
Feng Qi waved his hand lightly.
"Let's wait a little longer."
If he couldn't meet Mu Yan tonight, he had no alternative means of finding her.
His only hope would be to wait until Mu Yan actively sought out Mu Qing—at which point, he could meet her through Mu Qing.
But his body might not last long enough for that.
At any moment, his failing body could collapse completely.
If he failed to meet Mu Yan tonight, this sacrifice line might end along with him.
His head grew heavier and heavier.
Then, just as his consciousness blurred, a sweet voice rang out beside him.
"Heh, old man, letting all this good food go to waste? What a pity!"
Feng Qi's eyes snapped open.
He lifted his head toward the voice, and there she was—Mu Yan, grinning at him playfully.
She reached out, grabbed a roasted chicken from the table, tore off a wing, and stuffed it into her mouth.
Through mouthfuls of food, she mumbled indistinctly:
"Old man, you looking for me?"
The moment he saw her, a wave of emotion surged through Feng Qi, making him dizzy.
He immediately grabbed the adrenaline syringe he had prepared in advance and injected it into his arm.
It would damage his body, but that no longer mattered.
Now that Mu Yan had arrived, his mission was nearing completion.
The long-term effects of his condition were irrelevant—what mattered was getting the answers he had long sought from Mu Yan.
Perhaps… she even had a way to extend his life.
As the liquid coursed through his veins, the drowsiness faded rapidly.
Regaining his clarity, Feng Qi steadied himself.
He reached for the wine cup before him, then picked up the warmed wine bottle from the fire and poured a full glass.
Rising to his feet, he offered the cup to Mu Yan.
She took it without hesitation, downing the entire drink in one gulp—completely unconcerned about whether Feng Qi had poisoned it.
The moment the Thousand Leaf Wine hit her throat, her eyes sparkled.
She couldn't help but praise:
"Wow. This is good stuff."
Then, turning back to him, she tilted her head and asked curiously:
"Alright, old man, why were you looking for me? You seem to know quite a lot about me."
Setting down the empty cup, Mu Yan continued devouring the feast, her expression filled with curiosity.
Feng Qi gazed at her gently and finally spoke.
"Mu Yan, I've been waiting for you… for 113 years."
Mu Yan froze mid-bite.
It was unclear whether she was shocked by his words or choked on her food, but she suddenly stopped eating.
Her gaze shifted toward Feng Qi, filled with disbelief.
"Eh? 113 years?"