The frigid presence emanating from the Ice Empress enveloped the surroundings like a chilling embrace. Chen Ying felt a slight hitch in his breath—his delicate frame responding instinctively to the potent spiritual force exuded by one at the Peak Nascent Foundation.
"So this is the might of the Ice Empress…" he mused. "A great being cloaked in human form, I guess this new life would give me insights..."
Yet he remained unfazed, a calm smile gracing his lips as their group descended, their swords disappearing below them amidst a shimmering frost.
Bing Qiang stepped forward and offered a respectful bow to the patriarch of the Chen family before turning her attention to him.
"You must be Chen Ying… the husband of Yan Mei," she noted, her voice smooth as ice but laced with an undercurrent of disdain.
Chen Ying let out a light chuckle and returned her bow with courtesy.
"Greetings, Ice Empress. Indeed, I am Chen Ying."
She advanced closer, her gaze narrowing as she scrutinized the spiritual energy coursing through his being. Confusion flickered in her eyes.
"Peak Qi Condensation? This shouldn't be… where has the Yin energy gone? Has it dissipated, or is this merely a trick?" Her grip tightened subtly around her staff.
"I see he has made some progress," she remarked dryly. "How unexpected." Though her words seemed flattering, a palpable mockery lingered in the air.
The Chen Patriarch chuckled, unaware of the tension.
"Indeed, the young master is improving."
Bing Qiang offered a half-hearted smile that was both cold and empty, then turned away, her flowing shawl glinting like shards of ice.
"Yan Mei. Let's move."
The disciples summoned their swords once more and stepped on them, and flew off. As Yan Mei stepped forward, her sword drifting alongside her, Chen Ying's voice halted her.
"Yan Mei."
She turned to him, her demeanor formal and frosty.
"Yes, Chen Ying?" The term of endearment had vanished; her tone remained respectful yet distant, as if an invisible chasm had formed between them.
Chen Ying retrieved a scroll, faintly glowing with sealed runes, and gently placed it into her hand.
"A parting gift. This is a Level 10 High-Grade technique aligned with ice attributes—extremely rare. Cultivate it well and safeguard it closely."
Yan Mei's eyes widened in astonishment.
"A… High-Grade technique? Level 10?" she breathed, disbelief coating her words.
Chen Ying nodded affirmatively.
"You're already at Peak Core Foundation. It's well suited for you. I won't divulge its origins—it's sealed and can only be unlocked by one who wields ice."
Before she could reply, he turned away from her.
"This technique… it hails from the Holy Ice Sect as Qing Chen, a sect I dismantled. It holds no value for me now, but it is perfect for her. Let it bring her solace."
Yan Mei gazed at the scroll in her hand, grappling for the right response. Then, her lips barely parted as she whispered.
"You never told me the name of that song… the one you played last night."
Chen Ying didn't turn back.
"It doesn't matter. Farewell, Yan Mei. And remember what I've shared with you."
Yan Mei's grip tightened around the scroll. She stepped onto her sword, allowing her spiritual energy to surge. As she soared into the sky, she turned one last time, locking eyes with Chen Ying.
Then, she averted her gaze and whispered in her heart:
"Take care, Chen Ying. After today… Let us be strangers. We were never truly a couple. But please… don't die again…"
A tear glimmered behind her veil as she flew to join Bing Qiang. Together, the disciples of the Ice Palace ascended into the heavens, tracing a path of frost and lingering memories behind them.
The sliding door creaked open.
A gust of spiritual wind stirred the silence as Chen Ying stepped into his chamber. Sunlight streamed through the carved lattice windows, casting golden shadows on the polished wooden floor. His sharp eyes locked onto a package lying atop his desk, wrapped in red silk.
"From Yan Mei…?" he muttered, his fingers twitching with restrained curiosity.
He strode forward, his elegant robe swaying like ink in water, and untied the silk. Inside, a crimson envelope and a folded letter awaited him. He unfolded the letter with care.
"Ah Ying… If you are reading this, then I have already left. The red envelope contains a spiritual token. Bring it to the City Lord of the Zhao Family in the capital. Whatever you seek—he shall grant."
Chen Ying's gaze darkened as he slowly folded the letter.
"Zhao Family?… Interesting."
He opened the envelope. A pulse of energy surged out—a glowing jade tablet suspended in the air, humming with compressed spiritual qi. The air around him shimmered as if the world had taken a sharp breath.
He caught it with one hand, letting the spiritual power wash over him. Then he placed it back into the envelope and exhaled deeply, eyes glowing faintly with resolve.
"I need to ascend faster… Find Ling'er. Avenge what was stolen." His voice was low but firm. "But first, a visit to Father's restaurant."
He gathered his robes and changed into a sleek traveling outfit, fastening his family crest at his waist. His fingers brushed the satchel at his hip—it was time.
At the front gates of the Chen manor, wind danced through cherry blossoms as he moved with grace.
"Chen Ying!"
A familiar voice cut through the breeze. He halted, turning his head with cold indifference. Chen Xin, his younger cousin, was running toward him, panting slightly.
"Where are you going?" Chen Xin asked between breaths. "I could come along!"
Chen Ying tilted his head slightly, gaze unreadable. "To Father's restaurant. It's been a while."
Chen Xin beamed. "Perfect! I haven't visited Uncle Chen Hao's place in ages."
As he reached to pat Chen Ying's shoulder, the elder dodged him with fluid precision, taking a step aside like a drifting leaf.
"You're suddenly friendly?" Chen Ying's voice was calm, but his eyes bore weight. "When we were children, you and Chen Jin left me behind, just because I couldn't cultivate. I was always the sick one, the weak one. If I weren't born a legitimate child of the main branch, I'd have been discarded."
Two guards standing by the gate bowed as Chen Ying passed. Chen Xin followed behind, guilt written all over his face.
"My mother never wanted me to play with you…" He admitted quietly.
Chen Ying chuckled, though it was more of a scoff. His eyes narrowed like sharpened steel.
"Your mother again... Sounds like she took lessons from Han Fei. What now? Are you going to try to kill me, too?"
"W-What? Of course not!" Chen Xin stumbled to a halt, confusion and panic flaring in his voice.
Chen Ying kept walking.
"I'm sorry," Chen Xin called out, his voice laced with regret. "It wasn't my intention to leave your side… And now that Yan Mei is gone, you're alone. Let me stay with you."
Chen Ying paused. He swept a hand through his silken hair, the gesture cool and deliberate, his back to Chen Xin.
"Yan Mei walks her path now," he said quietly. "And I've just begun mine. After today, we're not husband and wife—we're simply strangers."
With that, he resumed walking, leaving Chen Xin frozen in place.
"You forgot to take a horse!" Chen Xin called after him.
Chen Ying raised a hand without looking back, waving lazily. "I have legs. I'll manage."
Chen Xin rolled his eyes, rubbing his temples. "Unbelievable." He turned to a guard. "Bring two horses. He's from a noble house, not some roadside beggar."
Farther down the main road, birds fluttered from trees as the sound of hooves echoed in the distance.
Chen Ying turned his head slightly, catching sight of Chen Xin riding toward him atop a handsome black stallion. Another horse followed closely, led by a guard.
"Chen Ying!" Chen Xin called out, reining in his mount. "You're the Third Young Master of one of the great families. Act like it. Ride a horse!"
The guard dismounted and bowed low, offering the reins.
Chen Ying sighed and rolled his eyes. "Tch… Fine."
He mounted with graceful ease, adjusting his robes as if he belonged on the battlefield.
As they passed through the busy market road, whispers bloomed like spring petals.
"It's Young Master Chen Ying…!" a girl whispered, clutching her basket of vegetables.
"He's so dazzling… His wife must be truly blessed."
Another girl blushed. "He's the only one in Qilin Capital who could make the zither weep… I heard he returned from the dead."
Chen Ying groaned under his breath and facepalmed. "This face… It's going to bring trouble."
Beside him, Chen Xin laughed, spurring his horse forward with a gentle kick.
With the wind brushing past their faces and the sun setting behind the jade hills, Chen Ying rode on, his thoughts like storm clouds.
The road ahead was long, paved with shadows of the past and the scent of vengeance.