When the first sliver of grayish-blue light pierced the horizon, Bai Qingxue opened her eyes.
She had sat leaning against the stone wall all night. The seawater on her robes had dried, leaving behind a thin layer of salt that shimmered with faint white spots in the morning light.
The Frost Moon Chant lay across her lap. The frost on the flute had completely melted away, revealing its natural, warm jade luster.
Even the dark red pattern on the inside of her wrist lay quiet beneath her skin, no longer pulsing.
Bai Qingxue turned her head.
Ning Qinghan sat on the nearby sand with her bare feet stretched out in front of her, head lowered as she picked at the grains of sand caught between her toes.
Noticing Bai Qingxue wake, she didn't look up, merely saying casually, “You're better.”
Bai Qingxue nodded, supporting herself against the stone wall as she stood up.
Though a faint soreness swept through her knees the moment she bent them, it quickly passed.
Bai Qingxue walked to the edge of the reef, facing the waters where she had submerged into the deep the previous night.
The morning light was spreading across the sea, dyeing the dark green water a pale grayish-blue.
She unfastened the Frost Moon Chant and brought it to her lips.
This time, she played an extremely short melody.
Just three or five consecutive notes, like a pebble cast into a deep pool.
The moment the notes touched the water, a ripple of extremely fine waves spread across the surface, sinking into the depths. They brushed the edges of the ruined altar on the seabed, then continued probing downward along the rift Ning Qinghan had torn open.
Bai Qingxue lowered her flute.
“The core was destroyed, but it wasn't completely eradicated,” Bai Qingxue said.
“You must have noticed it too. Though the protective shell outside the formation array was broken, there is still a passage connected beneath it, leading even deeper. Deeper than where we reached yesterday.”
Ning Qinghan had already walked up to stand beside Bai Qingxue.
The morning light fell upon her, taking some of the damp chill from the night before off her.
She turned her head to glance at Bai Qingxue, seeing that the latter's gaze still lingered on the sea, as if confirming something.
“Do you plan to go back down and take another look?”
“No,” Bai Qingxue said. “There's no point in going down now.”
She paused, then added, “After all, Yuzhou City is temporarily safe for now.”
Having said this, Bai Qingxue stopped looking at the sea. She turned around and walked back onto the reef.
Standing on the high ground, she looked toward Yuzhou City. The morning light spread across the reef, illuminating the glistening remnants of last night's ice.
“I have yet to use the final form of Ice Condensation,” Bai Qingxue said softly.
She then raised the Frost Moon Chant to her lips and began to play.
This melody was longer and more solemn than any from the previous night, like a river making its final turn before merging into the sea.
As the notes drifted down, the morning light on the sea seemed to be gathered by some unseen force, ceasing its shimmer.
Then, the ice began to spread. Starting from the edge of the reef in the shallow waters, it crawled across the surface, covering the spots where the sea beast carcasses had sunk, sealing the entire body of water above the altar.
Unlike the white ice from her earlier melody, this ice was an almost translucent, eerie blue, looking as though moonlight itself had been pressed into thin sheets.
At the edges, the ice swelled slightly to form a perfect dome, sealing the entire shallow water zone beneath it.
Through the ice, the outlines of the frozen sea beast carcasses were visible. Their dark gray scales remained tilted beneath the surface just as they had fallen, like relics preserved in amber for thousands of years.
The white coral ruins of the altar were faintly visible in the deepest depths, covered by the eerie blue ice, sealing it away along with the unactivated passage beneath.
Bai Qingxue lowered her flute.
At that moment, a very thin layer of mist condensed over the ice, slowly dispersing the instant Bai Qingxue lowered her flute.
She stood where she was, the Frost Moon Chant hanging at her side. The morning light caught her silver-white hair, making the fine strands shimmer.
When Bai Qingxue turned around,
a crowd had already gathered on the docks of Yuzhou City.
Zhou Ji stood at the very front, wearing a faded blue robe that had been washed thin. His hair was a messy tangle from the sea breeze.
Behind him followed over a dozen fishermen, young and old alike. Some were wrapped in bandages, while others had medicine applied to their wounds.
They stood on the docks, staring at the eerie blue ice and the sea beast carcasses permanently sealed beneath it.
Zhou Ji opened his mouth, his throat twitching as if something were wedged there, unable to be swallowed or spat out.
Suddenly, his knees buckled.
Zhou Ji knelt down on the stone steps.
Immediately after, the fishermen behind him knelt down one by one, their knees striking the cold bluestone slabs with a succession of dull thuds.
Yet, at this moment, not a single person spoke.
Standing on the reef, Bai Qingxue looked at the people kneeling on the docks through the morning light and across the expanse of ice.
The Frost Moon Chant was clasped in her hand, its body still vibrating slightly from the lingering notes, a sensation that traveled up her fingertips.
“Let's go,” Bai Qingxue said softly.
Hearing this, Ning Qinghan looked at Bai Qingxue with some surprise. “Aren't you going to do something about them?”
“No need.”
...
By the time they walked out of Yuzhou City's gates, the dirt road leading inland was illuminated by the morning sun.
Bai Qingxue walked in front, the Frost Moon Chant tucked back into her waist.
Ning Qinghan followed a few paces behind, her bare feet stepping on the soil dampened by the night dew. After walking about a mile, Yuzhou City behind them had shrunk into a faint gray line.
Ning Qinghan quickened her pace by a few steps to catch up, walking side by side with Bai Qingxue for a distance.
“We're heading back already?” Ning Qinghan turned her head to look at her, her tone carrying a lazy, half-playful complaint. “We barely got to have any fun.”
Bai Qingxue did not slow her pace.
“Do you want to stay here?”
Hearing this, Ning Qinghan took two steps backward. Clasping her hands behind her back, she walked while stepping in her own footprints.
“You know that's impossible.”
Bai Qingxue did not reply.
She continued forward, passing by Ning Qinghan. The hem of her robe brushed against the back of Ning Qinghan's hand, stirring a faint breeze.
Ning Qinghan turned around and caught up to walk beside her again, her steps light.
After walking a while, Bai Qingxue's voice drifted through the morning breeze.
“No one can say for sure what the future holds.”
Hearing this, Ning Qinghan's footsteps paused, but only for a brief moment. Her toes lingered on the sandy ground for a beat before she stepped forward again.
Ning Qinghan glanced sideways at Bai Qingxue, as if trying to read something from her face.
Bai Qingxue's profile in the morning light was as calm as ever, devoid of any visible emotion.
Ning Qinghan watched her for a moment, then withdrew her gaze.
She clasped her hands behind her back, the corners of her lips curving up slightly as her voice returned to its usual lazy tone.
“For Immortal Master Bai to say something like that...” Ning Qinghan tilted her head, looking at Bai Qingxue's profile. “Is this your way of thanking me for last night?”
Bai Qingxue did not answer.
Ning Qinghan continued to walk by her side, pressing no further. She simply shifted her gaze away from Bai Qingxue's face to the mountain path unfolding ahead.
The morning light bathed the hills in a pale golden hue. Her bare feet stepped onto the sandy earth warmed by the sun, keeping pace with the frost-white figure beside her, step for step, maintaining their side-by-side distance.
The two continued along the dirt road. As the morning light grew brighter, Yuzhou City vanished completely behind them, replaced by a rolling range of hills ahead.
There was no sea breeze, no ice, and no searing heat from restrictions—only the dry scent of earth and the increasingly warm sun.
Ning Qinghan walked beside Bai Qingxue.
Sometimes she lagged half a step behind, sometimes she drifted slightly ahead, but most of the time, they maintained a distance that allowed them to walk exactly side by side.
Neither of them made a conscious effort to close the gap, nor did they let it widen.
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