In the depths of Great Snow Mountain, in North America, lies a valley locked in perpetual ice.
This is one of the coldest regions on the North American Continent.
Within a 200-mile radius, there is not a single inhabitant.
Due to the extreme cold and the constant howling gale, the temperature remains below minus 35 degrees Celsius throughout the year.
The only people who lived here were the native inhabitants and a few adventurous polar explorers.
Frozen Lake is an unnamed lake. It had no name initially; it was only called this because its waters remain frozen all year round, hence the locals casually named it as such.
Looking down from above, the lake’s waters are locked in ice throughout the year, with ice layers several meters thick.
In this place where human survival seems nearly impossible, there sits an elderly man, quietly meditating.
His hair is grizzled, and he dons only a thin layer of clothing, his body cloaked in frost, as if he has long become an ice sculpture.
Behind him stands a rudimentary igloo built from snow and ice.
Other than that, there are scattered simple living tools and a few animal carcasses nearby.
Those who do not know better might think he is a local native.
Yet, even the natives would not dare dress so lightly in such an environment.
The elder slowly exhaled a breath of turbid air, which immediately turned into a cloud of ice mist and dissipated into the air.
He has been meditating for a week now. For the past seven days, he has once again faced life-and-death trials, hoping to break through his limits.
But things did not go as he wished.
This was his 15th attempt to breakthrough, only to meet with his 15th failure.
If Zhao Tianjie were still alive and saw the elder survive life-and-death situations 15 times, he would surely be awestruck.
Zhao Tianjie pushed himself to the peak with thousands of toxicities, yet even then, he did not dare to step through Death Gate.
His first brush with life and death left him without the courage to take that step.
With each subsequent attempt, he found himself hesitating, unable to move forward.
Between life and death, there are too many attachments and too many uncertainties.
Though he sought to ascend to the peak, the worldly ties held him back, preventing him from mustering the resolve.
But the elderly man before him was different.
For him, passing through Death Gate was as simple as eating and drinking.
Sealing himself in this icy hellish environment, he actively severed external ties, conditioning himself to the extremities so he could easily step through Death Gate.
Above, through the howling wind and snow, a spotlight suddenly shone.
Dozens of helicopters descended from the sky, and figures began to drop.
These individuals soared through the air as if controlling the winds.
Despite the dozens of meters in altitude, they landed lightly as swallows, immediately standing on firm ground, unscathed.
Once landed, they lined up uniformly before the elder.
One among them, a man in his thirties or forties with jet-black hair and deep-set eyes of remarkable handsomeness.
His features exude three parts Dragon Country and seven parts Angsa, clearly a man of mixed heritage.
In the overseas world, mixed-race individuals abound, as various ethnic groups intermingled.
Though they carried Dragon Country bloodlines in their features, their hearts no longer identified as such after being away for many years.
This man was among the elite abroad.
Amidst the chaotic and competitive multicultural North American Continent, he wielded immense fortune and controlled numerous financial organizations.
Rumors circulated that regardless of North America’s top leader, Charlie Chan was the true leader within the Chinese community.
Even if the head of North America desired to reach the Chinese community, they required his consent.
Charlie Chan’s formidable power stemmed from his control over critical industries.
Finance, medicine, and even weapons.
The most violent sectors were under his influence, with annual flows of money reaching hundreds of billions of US Dollars.
Recently, he had been strategically moving into the diamond and oil sectors, with predictions suggesting that within a decade, he could vie for the presidency.
Yet now, this towering figure humbly stood before the elder, displaying utmost respect.
"Master."
The elder opened his eyes, gazing faintly at him.
In the boundless ice and wind, a flame suddenly appeared.
This flame circled the elder, melting the frost covering him, exposing deep cracks in the eternally frozen lake as if it might soon thaw completely.
Fire should not exist in this frozen hell, and the flame melting ice was beyond the scope of human ability.
Charlie Chan stared at the elder, eyes full of profound reverence.
He was a traditional believer, yet his faith lay not in God but in the extraordinary individual before him.
His master stood before him, possessing nature-manipulating powers, a true lord of heaven and earth.
The flames around the elder were not intentional displays but responses to his stirring spirit.
Melting this frozen hell would not even require one percent of the elder’s power.
"Master, have you transcended the Celestial Gate?"
"Celestial Gate? Will I ever see it in this lifetime..."
The elder muttered, lost in thought.
"I often dream, in which I am not in my current form but living in a dynasty from eight hundred years ago.