“Are you heading to Winterfell City to seek refuge with relatives?”
Yun Che’s expression remained calm as he shook his head.
“I have no kin in the city. I merely learned a few trades and hope to earn a living there.”
Xu Zhen visibly relaxed. His question carried deeper intent—Winterfell City was the largest city in the Northern Domain, and ordinary folk rarely ventured there alone without family to rely on. If Yun Che had answered that he was seeking relatives, Xu Zhen would have grown more cautious. On the icy plains, many bandits used the excuse of ‘visiting kin’ to mask their predations.
Still, Xu Zhen did not dwell on it. He smiled and said,
“What a coincidence. We’re heading back to Winterfell City as well. Since fate has brought us together, why not travel with us, little brother?”
Gratitude flickered across Yun Che’s face. He cupped his fists and said,
“Many thanks, Escort Leader Xu.”
Hong Lei, standing nearby, bared his teeth in a grin as he looked Yun Che over.
“Kid, you know how to ride a snow camel?”
Yun Che gave a wry smile and shook his head.
Xu Zhen gestured toward an empty ice-sledge behind him.
“When traveling, everyone has their hard times. Hop on. Three more days, and we’ll reach Winterfell City.”
After thanking him, Yun Che climbed aboard with ease. He swept his gaze backward—there were over thirty sledges in the convoy, most laden with goods. Only the one he boarded, along with three or four behind it, were empty. His divine sense spread quietly, confirming there was nothing unusual inside, before he sat cross-legged.
Zhao Rui drove his camel closer and asked,
“Brother Yun, you’ve come such a long way—how come you don’t even have a bundle with you?”
Yun Che sighed softly.
“I ran into snow bandits on the road. They took everything. I was lucky just to survive.”
Zhao Rui froze, staring at him for a moment, then comforted him.
“As long as you’re alive, that’s what matters. The Northern Domain’s been getting more and more dangerous these days.”
As they spoke, Yun Che’s expression shifted slightly. He raised his eyes toward a forest of ice pillars on the right. His divine sense swept through it, discovering three hidden auras lurking within, watching the convoy closely. Yet they never moved. Even after the convoy traveled several more miles, the figures remained concealed.
Yun Che pondered briefly before withdrawing his divine sense.
By the time the sun tilted westward, night had fully enveloped the icy plains. Xu Zhen shouted from the front,
“Brothers! Tomorrow we’ll enter Winterfell City territory! The City Guard will send people to meet us! We’ll camp here tonight and move out early! Once we’re back in the city, drinks and tunes at the Warm Fragrance Pavilion are on me!”
The men burst into laughter, jumping down from their sledges. Some untied the snow camels and tethered them behind wind-sheltering ice rocks. Others arranged the vehicles into a semicircle as a crude barrier. More skilled hands swiftly pitched thick leather tents and lit bonfires. Soon, the scent of roasting meat and the men’s boisterous laughter drifted across the plains.
Seven or eight escorts split into two groups, lanterns in hand, patrolling the perimeter.
As Yun Che stepped down, Zhao Rui immediately dragged him toward a bonfire. After a day of traveling together, Zhao Rui had grown fond of the young man—quiet but attentive, genuinely interested in his exaggerated escort tales. He couldn’t wait to pull Yun Che over once camp was set.
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Three people were already seated by the fire: Xu Zhen, Hong Lei, and a middle-aged scholar in an indigo cotton robe. The scholar looked to be around forty, with fair features, clear eyes, and a faint vertical line between his brows that lent him an air of wisdom.
Seeing Yun Che approach, Xu Zhen smiled.
“Mr. Zhou, this is the lost young man I mentioned earlier—Yun Che.”
Then to Yun Che, “Brother Yun, this is Mr. Zhou Wenyuan of our Zhenbei Escort Agency. He’s learned and insightful, especially skilled in observing qi and fortune—our agency’s pillar of stability.”
The scholar smiled gently.
“Escort Leader Xu flatters me. I merely inherited a few superficial tricks from my ancestors—hardly worth mentioning.”
Xu Zhen glared.
‘Nonsense! If your skills are superficial, then the rest of us are blind fools! Brother Yun, Mr. Zhou’s face-reading and qi-observation are frighteningly accurate!”
Yun Che studied Zhou Wenyuan carefully, then smiled faintly and clasped his fists.
“Sir, your radiance is restrained, your brows gather the Three Talents—this is the visage of a clear mind and hidden wisdom. As the ancients said, ‘Observe the spirit to know the essence.’ Truly not false.”
Zhou Wenyuan looked surprised, then laughed.
“You understand physiognomy as well? I see your aura is calm and deep, with faint cold stars guarding you—you are certainly no ordinary man.”
Yun Che replied modestly,
“There was an old Daoist in my hometown who dabbled in such arts. I overheard a few things in childhood—please don’t laugh.”
Zhou Wenyuan laughed heartily.
At that moment, Hong Lei leaned in.
“Mr. Zhou, read mine too! I’m already thirty-five—see if my marriage fate’s finally tied!”
Xu Zhen laughed and scolded,
“How many times have you begged already? Every reading drains Mr. Zhou’s spirit. Give it a rest!”
Hong Lei ignored him, staring at Zhou Wenyuan with eager eyes.
After a brief hesitation, Zhou Wenyuan smiled and nodded.
“Very well. I’ll make an exception tonight. Zhao Rui—you begged a few days ago too. I’ll read you both.”
He closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, a faint cyan glow flickered within. Yun Che remained calm, but his divine sense quietly swept over—he saw a wisp of weak spiritual energy stirred in Zhou Wenyuan’s dantian, traveling along a strange meridian path before converging in his eyes.
The energy was no more than Qi Condensation first or second layer, and its circulation was crude—clearly not an orthodox cultivation method, but rather a fragmentary folk art.
Zhou Wenyuan stared at Hong Lei, muttering incantations while his fingers flew through calculations. After a long while, an unusual flush rose on his face as he frowned.
“Hong Lei, dark qi coils around your Heavenly Court, your glabella is dim. Within three days, there will be a blood calamity. If you survive it, a Red Luan Star will move within half a year.”
Hong Lei froze, then laughed loudly.
“A blood calamity? We escort folk live with blades at our throats every day. No big deal!”
Zhou Wenyuan turned to Zhao Rui, studied him carefully, then stiffened.
“Strange… you also bear signs of bloodshed.”
He looked at Xu Zhen next, his face growing heavier by the second.
“Escort Leader Xu—your brow is thick with killing qi. This too spells disaster.”
He sprang to his feet, scanning the bustling camp, his expression increasingly grave.
“No… this isn’t right. My family’s inherited Qi-Observing Art has never erred like this—everyone here bears blood-evil qi! This cannot be coincidence!”
Xu Zhen narrowed his eyes and scanned the surroundings.
“You mean… our entire convoy faces a life-or-death calamity soon?”
Zhou Wenyuan nodded heavily. His gaze drifted toward Yun Che—and froze.
At first he stared blankly, then his pupils shrank violently, as if he had seen something unimaginable. He staggered forward two steps, eyes locked onto Yun Che’s face.
Less than three breaths later, all color drained from his face, replaced by a sickly flush. Zhou Wenyuan stumbled back, spat out a mouthful of blood, and pointed at Yun Che with a trembling voice:
“You… you are wrapped in death qi… yet… purple qi soars to the heavens?!”
Silence fell around the bonfire.
Xu Zhen, Hong Lei, and Zhao Rui all turned to Yun Che, their expressions filled with shock and uncertainty.
Yun Che remained calm. He rose slowly and clasped his fists toward Zhou Wenyuan.
“Sir, you must be mistaken. I am but an ordinary man. How could I possess such qi?”
Zhou Wenyuan seemed not to hear him. Wiping the blood from his lips, he muttered,
“No… this shouldn’t be… life and death qi are never mixed… unless… unless…”
He suddenly looked up, the cyan light in his eyes flaring violently, as if he were forcing every last drop of that meager spiritual energy to peer through Yun Che completely.
Yun Che frowned slightly.
At that moment—
A shrill scream tore through the night from the edge of the camp!
“Enemy attack—!!”
-
?? Zhou Wenyuan coughing blood after seeing Yun Che’s fate
-
?? The entire escort convoy marked by ominous blood signs
-
?? The sudden night attack finally breaking the tension
?? Are the attackers snow bandits?
?? The hidden figures from the ice pillar forest?
?? Or is this calamity inevitably drawn toward Yun Che himself?