The road stretched endlessly through grey hills and pale fog. The wooden carriage creaked under every bump, its wheels singing with dust. I sat near the back, eyes half-closed, letting the wind brush across my face. It smelled of pine, iron, and faraway snow.
I could hear the guards outside murmuring to each other, their voices carried by the clatter of hooves. None of them spoke to me. To them, I was just the forgotten prince being taken to some low post in the north—nothing worth their words.
Lian Xueyin walked beside the carriage in silence, step by step. The early morning light glowed against her white robe, making her look almost unreal. The frost energy that clung to her shimmered faintly, like mist turning into crystal dust. Every guard kept their distance, not daring to come too close.
Arina's voice whispered faintly inside me. "Be on guard, host. The signals ahead feel… unstable."
I frowned and leaned forward. "Unstable?"
Before she could answer, the first arrow screamed through the air.
It struck one of the leading riders straight in the chest, throwing him off his horse. Another volley followed—sharp, black-tipped arrows whistling in from both sides.
"Ambush! Protect the cargo!" shouted one of the guards.
The "cargo," of course, was me.
The bandits appeared from the cliffs—twenty, maybe more—wearing ragged steel and carrying long sabers glowing with faint spirit energy. Their leader was a massive man with half his face scarred and his aura pulsing faintly at the Qi Condensation, Fifth Layer.
"The royal brat's alive!" he bellowed. "Get him! A prince's head will fetch more gold than a city!"
The guards scrambled to defend, but chaos hit fast. Horses screamed, steel clashed, and blood mixed with dust. The carriage toppled sideways, and I rolled off it, hitting the hard dirt. I gritted my teeth, forcing myself upright.
"Arina!" I called.
"I cannot interfere directly," she answered. "But your body now holds qi. Use it—or die."
My hands trembled slightly, but instinct took over. I pulled my breath inward, focusing the way Arina taught me—guiding the flow through my meridians. Power gathered in my palms, faint and unstable but real.
When the first bandit charged, I pushed both hands forward. A blast of wind and qi surged from my palms, hurling the attacker back three steps before fading. Not deadly—but enough to surprise him.
Still, I was surrounded. My newly awakened strength was nothing before actual fighters. My heart thudded hard in my chest.
Then, I saw her move.
Lian Xueyin stood still among the storm of blades, calm as snow falling on glass. She raised her hand slowly, almost gently. Her fingers glowed pale blue.
A gust of icy wind swept across the battlefield. The temperature dropped in an instant—breath froze midair, and frost spread over the ground like rippling water. Every step she took left trails of crystal ice blooming across the dirt.
The bandits turned toward her, their weapons raised. But before they could strike, her eyes flashed—cold and ancient. She whispered something under her breath, a single word that made the air hum.
"Freeze."
It was like the world obeyed her command.
An icy burst erupted from her palm, a blizzard made of pure spiritual energy. The air turned white, and every bandit caught within her reach froze where they stood—encased in layers of clear frost. Even the leader cried out as ice consumed his legs, spreading upward until silence fell again.
When the snow settled, twenty men stood motionless, like statues sculpted from fear.
Even the guards stared, speechless. A woman like her didn't belong in this cruel world. She was power and grace woven together—the kind of strength that made you forget to breathe.
Xueyin turned slowly and looked at me. Her eyes softened, the frost fading from their glow. "Are you hurt?"
I shook my head, still stunned. "No. But… you—your power—"
She glanced down, as if embarrassed. "I don't like using it unless I must."
Her voice was calm, yet I could hear the loneliness buried inside it. Power like hers wasn't kindness—it was a burden.
I stepped forward, brushing snow off my sleeve. "If you hadn't been here, I'd be dead."
Her lips curved into a faint smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Then you've paid back what you once gave me."
I blinked. "What do you mean?"
"When you saved me before," she said quietly, "you never asked who I was. You didn't even care about my bloodline or my shame. You just said, 'Anyone freezing deserves warmth.' That night, I swore I'd return that warmth someday. Maybe… this is it."
For a moment, I forgot the frozen battlefield around us, the corpses, and the smell of steel. There was only her voice—quiet, trembling, honest.
I looked into those pale blue eyes and felt something shift inside me. Not love, not yet—but something real, something that felt alive.
"Then maybe," I said softly, "it's not repayment. Maybe it's a beginning."
She blinked, startled, and for the first time, a small, genuine smile appeared on her face—fragile but radiant. "A beginning," she repeated, almost in a whisper. "I'd like that."
The frozen air seemed to ease between us, the frost melting slowly under the sun.
As the guards gathered what remained of their courage and the road cleared again, I looked toward the horizon.
Arina's voice murmured, low and approving. "Connection established. Lian Xueyin's favorability has increased to 70%."
I exhaled slowly, resting one hand on the cracked carriage rail. The journey wasn't over—it had only found its rhythm. Beside me, Lian Xueyin walked again, her robe brushing the air like a trail of snow.
The frost may have been hers, but somehow, standing next to her, I felt something burning inside me—a quiet flame that refused to fade.
The kind of fire that could melt winter itself.