"This thing is really small and exquisite, a fine little toy!" Zhang Tuowei leaned in, his eyes fixed on Zhang Chen’s small stove, blinking with curiosity.
In this world there were no fireproof materials, nor any such thing as a small stove.
Zhang Chen smiled lightly at his words. "Good as it is, you can’t really make use of it."
Disappointment flashed across Zhang Tuowei’s face at that, while Chengyu pointed at Zhang Chen’s small stove, a grave look in her eyes. "I can feel it—inside your little stove, a terrifying power is brewing. Once it erupts, it’ll definitely bring a catastrophe of slaughter to all living beings."
"You can sense the power inside my Alchemy Furnace?" Zhang Chen’s face showed surprise.
One had to know his own Eight Trigrams Furnace was an Innate Spiritual Treasure; all heat was suppressed within it, sealed off by Innate Restrictions. Yet Chengyu could actually sense the power of the flames inside the Eight Trigrams Furnace through those Innate Restrictions—such keen instinct was enough to be called a Divine Technique.
"I can feel it, vaguely. My instincts tell me I’d best turn tail and run, stay as far from this Alchemy Furnace as possible." Chengyu spoke with great seriousness.
"This little girl really does have a big secret on her." Zhang Chen muttered inwardly.
Repairing, setting out, training in martial arts.
The days began once again to repeat, falling into a kind of Reincarnation. As the weather grew colder and colder, Zhang Chen simply hugged the Alchemy Furnace and hid inside the carriage, making Zhang Fei drive in his stead.
Two months later, the Northern Land saw its first snow. Goose-feather snow fell from the sky, each flake as large as a palm.
This world possessed Extraordinary Power; the cold of the Northern Land averaged fifty degrees below zero, enough to rival the future Arctic.
"Big brother, it’s snowing!" Zhang Tuowei braved the icy wind, his little face flushed red from the cold. He kept rubbing his hands together; even wrapped in a big coat made of bearskin, he still couldn’t withstand that bitter wind.
In the distance, Zhang Fei, draped in bearskin, looked just like a little bear cub.
Outside the carriage Zhang Fei was shivering and hissing at the cold, while inside, the Alchemy Furnace radiated warmth, making the entire carriage as mild as spring.
Zhang Chen, wrapped in a great tiger-fur cloak, curled up in his clothes and leaned against the carriage wall, dozing off. Beside him, Mrs. Zhang and the others were reading or sitting in meditation, cultivating.
Hearing Zhang Fei’s shout, Chengyu put down her book, lifted the carriage curtain, and looked at the heavy snow outside, exclaiming, "Such big snow! I’ve never seen snow this heavy."
"Two True Dragons fell in the Northern Land this year. Their might still circulates between Heaven and Earth, naturally deepening Heaven and Earth’s own power." Zhang Chen opened his eyes, gazing out the window at the palm-sized snowflakes. He couldn’t help but marvel, feeling the wonder of Creation.
"The snow’s too heavy, let’s take a break." Zhang Chen looked at the leaden sky, the heavens completely shrouded in mist. He couldn’t draw in any Sun and Moon Essence, and could only idle helplessly and mull over his Qi Cultivation Technique.
Zhang Fei halted the carriage, quickly unhitched it, and used the frame to set up a tent. Zhang Chen, wrapped in tiger skin and cradling the Alchemy Furnace, stood to the side, taking no part in pitching the tent, because the weather outside was simply too cold for him. Cultivating his Civil and Martial Fire was too difficult; those gusts of bitter wind felt to him like steel blades scraping his bones.
The key was that he couldn’t use Wind Stabilizing Pills to ward off the cold wind either, for he needed his flesh to adapt to the breath of Heaven and Earth. If he used the Wind Stabilizing Pill, all the cold wind would be blocked outside, and that would make the cultivation meaningless for Zhang Chen; it might even cause serious problems for his Primordial Spirit in the future.
The Hunting Falcon spread its wings and grew to several meters in size, soon returning with a length of firewood in its beak. With its sharp talons it shredded the wood, then shrank back to the size of a sparrow and burrowed into Zhang Chen’s chest, drawing in the aura of the Sun Charcoal Fire.
To it, the Sun Charcoal Fire was a tremendous tonic, practically equivalent to Great Sun Essence.
Mrs. Zhang arranged the firewood, and Zhang Chen extended the Alchemy Furnace, bringing it close to the wood. As the Innate Restrictions operated, a few faint wisps of heat leaked out. The wood was already ignited by the residual warmth of the Furnace, giving off intense heat, and Mrs. Zhang began washing the pot and cooking.
The aroma of rice mingled with the scent of stir‑fried meat, spreading through the air and adding a touch of human warmth to this world of ice and snow.
Zhang Chen stroked the Alchemy Furnace and gazed toward the distant heavens. The entire sky had turned pitch‑black, and the clouds hung oppressively low, barely four or five hundred meters up. Looking out, one could see mist constantly condensing into snow within the rolling black clouds, slowly drifting down from the cloud layer.
"The fall of a True Dragon is a natural disaster for the whole world." Zhang Chen said to himself.
"Food’s ready!" Chengyu came over to Zhang Chen with a bowl of rice, cursing as she walked. "By rights, we should be getting closer and closer to Jiangnan, so the temperature ought to be getting warmer. Why is there no sign of the climate changing at all?"
At Chengyu’s words, Zhang Chen chuckled. "I more or less know the reason. Between the Northern Land and Jiangnan there’s a mountain range called Qinling. Qinling lies right across the north–south divide, blocking all the cold air in the north so it can’t cross over. That’s why the south is warm as spring all year round. We’re still some distance from Qinling, you know. And since Qinling blocks the northern air currents from moving south, all the cold gathers at its feet. The temperature around Qinling should be a few degrees colder than even the far north of the Northern Land."
The snow from the sky was heavy, and in no time it had laid a thick blanket over the ground. Just then a sound came from the distance, making the Sparrowhawk in Zhang Chen’s arms grow restless, only for him to pin it down.
Chengyu and the others all had sharp ears and eyes; they turned their heads one after another and saw, out in the distant wind and snow, a dozen or so snowy‑white human figures merging with the storm. Each one was shrouded in mist, staggering forward through the blizzard.
Now, back to the Northern Land, half a month earlier.
Chen Sanliang and Hu Li the Immortal stood facing each other, both pairs of eyes looking toward the bustling street, both remaining silent.
"Ancestor summoned me here, do you have any orders for me?" Chen Sanliang was the first to break the silent atmosphere and asked.
"Why isn’t Zhang Chen dead?" Hu Li the Immortal turned his tender little face to look at Chen Sanliang.
Hearing this, Chen Sanliang gave a bitter smile. "This subordinate just couldn’t bring himself to do it! If you wish to punish me, I will harbor not the slightest complaint and am willing to accept it!"
Hu Li the Immortal sized Chen Sanliang up and down, his voice somewhat chilling. "You’re not afraid of death?"
"Some things are more important than death." Chen Sanliang said in a low voice.
Hu Li the Immortal’s eyes fixed on Chen Sanliang, and in that moment the air seemed to congeal. Cold sweat continuously dripped from Chen Sanliang’s forehead.
After a long while, Hu Li the Immortal suddenly smiled, and that frozen atmosphere instantly crumbled to dust. "You’ve just passed my test."
"Test?" Chen Sanliang was stunned.
"Given how Zhang Chen treated your wife, if you had truly been ruthless enough to kill him, I would instead have started to suspect whether your heart was made of iron." Hu Li the Immortal spoke as he turned and walked down the tavern stairs. "I’ll tell you a piece of news: Baiya Academy has a damaged ruler that can connect to the legendary Spiritual World. If you want to seek the Elixir of Immortality in the Spiritual World, you might go to Baiya Academy and give it a try."
"Ancestor, please explain it in more detail!" At these words, Chen Sanliang’s expression changed drastically. He hurriedly got up and chased after him, not even bothering to ask about the so‑called test.
Three days later, Chen Sanliang arrived at Baiya Academy, and a storm of blood and slaughter erupted within Baiya Academy.
Back to the wind and snow of that icebound world: Zhang Chen’s eyes looked toward the figures in the distance, mist curling all around them.
The "mist" was their breath; in such bitter cold, people’s exhalations turned into great clouds of vapor.
A group of people were covered in white snow, each of them so frozen that their faces were purplish-blue as they staggered along in the snow.
"They look like scholars." Chengyu’s gaze pierced through the wind and snow; once he saw their faces clearly, he spoke to Zhang Chen.
"These fellows look pretty wretched." Zhang Chen muttered under his breath.
In these times, anyone who could study was no simple person; at the very least they were of the gentry clans.
Zhang Chen noticed them, and at this moment they also saw Zhang Chen and his group—especially the blazing bonfire, the meat soup and rice. Smelling that fragrance in the wind and snow, their stiff expressions suddenly came to life, and they quickly drew nearer to the camp.
As they approached, Zhang Chen could see their faces more and more clearly: a group of fifteen, all young men, dressed in fur coats of foreign style, their clothes exceedingly luxurious, but that air of misery about them made their wealth seem to vanish; they looked extremely down‑and‑out.
"Madam, might you be willing to sell us some food? And spare us some fire as well." The leading scholar was seventeen or eighteen years old, and his tone was very polite as he spoke.
Mrs. Zhang turned her gaze to Zhang Chen, and Zhang Chen picked up the conversation. "Fire is a trifling matter—take what you need. But for the food, you’ll have to pay."
The leading scholar looked at Zhang Chen and took a pearl from his bosom. The pearl was the size of a pigeon egg. "Will this suffice as payment?"
The pearl had a faint purple hue; at a glance it was a fine gem, worth at least a thousand taels of silver. Zhang Chen’s eyes immediately lit up, and he hastily put down his rice bowl. "This pearl of yours is too valuable; I can’t possibly give you change for it."
"I want to buy all of your provisions, and have you prepare some good wine and dishes to serve us. Then this pearl will be yours." The young lord carelessly tossed the pearl to Zhang Chen.
Right now Zhang Chen was indeed short of money. How much could he make each day just by hunting? Once he reached Jiangnan he would need to set up a household and business, all of which required large sums of money.
"Gentlemen, please wait a bit. I’ll personally cook some dishes for you. I can’t promise they’ll be especially delicious, just plain food at best, but they’ll be enough to fill your stomachs. As for this bonfire, you gentlemen can make use of it directly; we’ll start another one for ourselves."
Zhang Chen took the pearl, holding it in his hand and examining it. Purple pearls were truly rare. He quickly arranged for the group to sit by the fire, then told Chengyu to light another fire to the side, and personally went to fry the meat and steam the rice.
"This deal is really worth it. These rich young lords don’t treat money as money at all." Zhang Chen’s voice was full of emotion.
The poor were so poor they could hardly survive, while the rich used a single pearl to buy a meal—this disparity was simply too great.
"Have you considered that they might never have intended to actually give you that pearl?" Chengyu said softly beside him.