The tension in front of the Glacial Moon Residence had reached a fever pitch. Shun Lang's spear, tipped with the muddy-brown Qi of the Earth element, was mid-thrust. The air whistled as the metal hissed through the frost, aimed with the cruel precision of a man who had spent his life stepping on those he deemed beneath him.
To the guards, this was just another Tuesday—another moment to exert dominance over a fallen prince whose name had been a punchline for nineteen years.
But the universe had other plans.
Just as the iron tip was about to graze the dark fabric of Yin Shen's cloak, the world didn't just stop; it froze.
It began with a subtle snap in the atmosphere, like the sound of a frozen lake cracking under immense weight. Then, a wave of crushing, absolute pressure descended from the heights of the white stone fortress.
It wasn't a physical blow, yet it carried the mass of an avalanche. The spirit lamps lining the path didn't just flicker—they died instantly, their flames snuffed out by an invisible, frigid hand.
THUD.
The iron-tipped spear clattered to the ground, its muddy Qi extinguished like a candle in a hurricane. Shun Lang, the man who had been mocking the 'Trash' Young Master just mere seconds ago, was slammed into the frozen marble.
His knees hit the ground with a sickening crack, the impact sending shards of ice flying. Beside him, his partner followed suit, his face slamming into the frost-covered stone.
Shun Lang's eyes went wide, his pupils shrinking to pinpricks. A gargantuan weight sat upon his shoulders, pressing his internal organs against his spine. He tried to draw a breath, but the air was too cold, too thick with killing intent.
He gasped, a spray of crimson splattering against the white marble as the sheer spiritual pressure forced blood from his lungs.
The second guard was in no better state. He lay flat, his fingers clawing at the stone in a desperate, futile attempt to find leverage. The arrogance that had defined their features was replaced by a primal, soul-deep terror.
In the center of this localized apocalypse, Yin Shen stood perfectly still.
Unlike the two guards, he was not pinned to the ground. The aura, while heavy enough to make his skin crawl, was not directed at him. He stood in the "eye of the storm," a silent observer of the absolute power of the Foundation Establishment realm.
Even so, he could feel it—the weight of her consciousness. It felt like a great, prowling Snow Tiger pacing just beyond the veil of his perception, its golden eyes fixed on his throat.
The pressure was distinct from their previous encounter in the courtyard. There, she had been annoyed—here, in her own domain, she was an empress offended. The air around Yin Shen vibrated with the frequency of her displeasure.
He could feel the frost-laden Qi weaving around his silver hair, not as a weapon, but as a warning. It was a predator's gaze, cold and calculating, weighing his soul against the backdrop of the night.
Then, her voice echoed.
It didn't come from the gates, nor did it come from the windows of the fortress. It resonated directly from the air itself, amplified by her cultivation until it felt as though the very stones were speaking.
"Have the dogs I keep at my gate forgotten their place?"
The voice was melodious but carried the sharpness of a jagged icicle. Shun Lang groaned, his forehead pressed into the ice. Another surge of pressure hit him, making his bones creak audibly.
"To think that my own retainers would presume to act as the arbiters of who may visit me," the voice continued, growing colder with every syllable. "A son of the direct line, the Fifth Young Master of the Yin, stands before my door—and you dare speak of 'trash' and 'discipline'?"
"M-Miss... please..." Shun Lang wheezed, blood bubbling at the corner of his mouth. "We... we thought..."
"You thought?" The air suddenly grew even colder, the frost on the trees turning into thick, jagged spikes of ice. "Your thoughts are a luxury you can no longer afford. You have insulted the blood that flows in my own veins. To mock him is to mock the womb that bore us both. Do you truly believe your lives are worth such an indulgence?"
Yin Shen watched as the scarred guard's body trembled violently. The man's overconfidence had vanished completely, as if it had never existed. This was the reality of Chinxong: status was a shield, but cultivation was the sword that pierced it.
Without strength, even a Young Master was trash; but with the favor of the strong, even the weak became untouchable.
Yin Xue's presence seemed to expand, filling the entire hilltop. "Listen well, Shun Lang. I shall give you a single choice, and I suggest you choose with the wisdom of a man whose head is still attached to his neck."
The pressure shifted slightly, allowing the guards just enough room to lift their heads, though they remained firmly on their knees.
"You will stand up. You will sheath your weapons. You will bow until your foreheads touch the earth, and then you will respectfully escort my brother to my office," the voice commanded, each word dropping like a stone into a deep well.
"Or, you may continue your 'discipline' here. In which case, I will personally ensure that your heads are mounted on the spikes of this gate by sunrise. Choose."
The silence that followed was heavy with the scent of death. The two guards didn't hesitate. They couldn't afford to. The pressure lifted just enough to allow them to move, and they scrambled to their feet like frightened rabbits.
Shun Lang, his face pale and streaked with blood, immediately fell into a deep bow, his hands trembling as he pressed them together. His partner was even faster, nearly collapsing again in his haste to show submission. Gone was the mocking smirk, gone was the aggressive spear-thrust. All that remained was the pathetic display of submission.
"Fifth Young Master! Please, forgive our blindness!" Shun Lang's voice was hoarse, cracked with fear. "We were fools! We deserve ten thousand deaths!"
"We did not know! Please, enter! The Third Miss is waiting!" the second guard added, his voice pitching high in panic.
Yin Shen looked at them, his golden eyes devoid of pity. He saw them for what they were: the same as the soldiers he had seen in his past life who would switch allegiances the moment the wind changed. They were not warriors; they were bullies who worshipped power.
He didn't speak to them. Instead, he looked toward the white stone fortress. He could feel her gaze—that cold, predatory focus—drifting away from the gates and back into the depths of the residence.
He took a step forward, the frost crunching under his boots. The guards retreated instantly, clearing a path and bowing so low their backs were horizontal. They didn't even dare to look at him as he passed.
As Yin Shen walked through the massive ironwood gates, he realized the magnitude of the task ahead of him. Yin Xue had saved him from a tiresome brawl, but she had also demonstrated the sheer, terrifying distance between them once again.
She wasn't just a sister; she was a barrier—a mountain of ice that he had to either climb or shatter if he ever wanted to be truly free.
The "Ice Queen of Destruction" had invited him into her sanctum. But as the heavy gates began to swing shut behind him, Yin Shen knew that the conversation awaiting him would be far more dangerous than any spear.
To understand the gap Yin Shen was trying to bridge, one must look at the qualitative shift between the first three realms of cultivation.
| Realm | Focus | Result |
| Body Tempering | The Physical Vessel | Hardened skin, steel-like bones, and reinforced organs. Purely physical power. |
| Qi Condensation | The Internal Flow | Drawing Qi into the meridians. Ability to project energy or Qi outside the body to protect themselves from threats or wrap their own weapon in Qi. |
| Foundation Establishment | The Spiritual Sea | Condensing Qi into a liquid state within the Dantian. The birth of "Spiritual Pressure" and "Aura Domains." |
Yin Shen was currently at the peak of the 6th stage of Body Tempering. He was still refining the 'Vessel.' Yin Xue was an Early Stage Foundation Establishment expert.
In the hierarchy of power, she didn't just have more energy; she existed on a different plane of being. Her very presence could override the physical laws around her—hence the flash-freezing of the spirit lilies and the crushing weight on the guards.
As Yin Shen walked deeper into the Glacial Moon Residence, the halls grew narrower and the air even colder. The walls were made of a rare 'Frost-Veined Marble' that glowed with a soft, blue light.
There were no servants in sight; it seemed Yin Xue preferred the company of silence and ice.
Every step Yin Shen took was a challenge to his resolve. The Chaos Meridian inside him was reacting violently to the environment, vibrating with a mixture of fear and excitement. It was sensing the sheer volume of high-grade resources hidden within these walls—pills, spirit stones, and perhaps even ancient manuals.
He reached a pair of double doors made of translucent ice. They slid open silently, revealing a vast office that overlooked the frozen lake. At the far end, silhouetted against the moonlight, sat Yin Xue.
She wasn't meditating now. She was sitting behind a desk made of solid crystal, a single scroll open before her. The pressure was gone, replaced by a chilling, quiet intensity.
"You have ten minutes," she remarked without looking up. "Tell me, Yin Shen. Why have you come to the one person who has no reason to help you?"
Yin Shen stepped into the room, his dark cloak billowing behind him.
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