The frost basin stood ready at dawn, its waters rippling faintly with the light of the Source Crystal beneath. Steam curled in silvery wisps, carrying the aura of pure yin chi across the air.
Haotian arrived with a chest of jade vials, each one glowing faintly. He opened it and selected the first—inside swirled a luminous liquid, cold as moonlight. He held it up for the small group of disciples gathered before him. Their expressions shifted between nervousness and anticipation.
"This," Haotian said calmly, "is the Moonfrost Solution. A blend of the treasures I collected in the north. It will temper your bodies, cleanse your meridians, and refine your yin qi even as you breathe. Cultivation while bathing will multiply the effects."
He crouched at the pool's edge, uncorked the vial, and poured. The moment the silvery drop touched the water, a ripple of frost light spread across the basin. The water shone with new brilliance, glowing as though the moon itself had dissolved into its depths. A refreshing breeze rolled outward, carrying a vitality that made the watching disciples gasp.
Haotian stood and faced them. His voice was serious.
"Enter the bath, let it guide you. But I want each of you to prepare a written report afterward—every sensation, every change. This must be studied carefully before the whole sect partakes."
The disciples bowed in unison.
"Yes, Senior Brother Haotian!"
He gave them a faint smile. "Good. Then go, and enjoy yourselves."
Without lingering, he turned and strode away, his figure fading into the frost-lit air.
The moment he was gone, the girls' composure broke. They scrambled out of their robes, laughter and chatter echoing across the snowy courtyard as garments piled neatly at the side. One by one, they slid into the glowing water.
The reaction was immediate.
"Oh!" one gasped, clutching at her arms as frost qi surged into her meridians.
"It's cultivating me on its own—I haven't even circulated my qi yet!" another cried.
A third disciple sank deeper with wide eyes. "My skin—it feels like it's being cleansed… even my bones are tingling!"
The bath water shimmered around them, streams of frost chi threading into their bodies with every breath. Their yin physiques responded instinctively, drawing the essence through skin, blood, and marrow. Some felt impurities being burned out, others sensed hidden blockages loosening in their meridians.
Laughter turned to awed silence, broken only by the occasional gasp or sigh as the bath embraced them.
By the time the last girl submerged to her shoulders, the pool glowed brighter, as if resonating with their joy.
"This… this is a miracle," whispered one disciple, her eyes glazed in bliss.
"No wonder Sect Master trusts him so much…" another murmured.
"But if this spreads to the whole sect…" A third trailed off, too overwhelmed to finish.
And for the first time in generations, the Moon Lotus Sect disciples bathed not only in water, but in pure cultivation itself.
By the following morning, a stack of neatly bound reports sat on Sect Master Yinxue's desk. Each parchment bore the elegant but trembling handwriting of her disciples—accounts of what they had experienced in the Moonfrost Bath.
Yinxue sat silently, reading one after another.
"The water entered my meridians before I even drew in qi. My breathing deepened, and I could feel impurities leaving my body in black mist. After half an hour, my meridians flowed smoother than I have ever known."
"My yin physique resonated with the bath. It was as though my body itself was cultivating. My skin has become clearer, and my qi seems… more obedient."
"I saw a bottleneck I have struggled with for two years… break. Just from sitting in the water."
She set the last report down and exhaled. Even her usually calm eyes flickered with awe. So it truly works… and more than that—it reshapes their foundations.
The door creaked open, and Haotian entered with his usual calm smile. His robes were simple, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, his hands faintly dusted with herbs. He carried another chest of jade bottles.
"I take it the reports pleased you?" he asked, already guessing the answer from her expression.
Yinxue's lips pressed into a thin line, as though she wanted to scold him for yet another miracle. But in the end, she only nodded. "More than pleased. If this continues, the Moon Lotus Sect will stand a step above all nine sects."
Haotian chuckled lightly. "Then I'll make sure it does continue."
He set the chest down and opened it. Inside, the vials of Moonfrost Solution gleamed faintly under the lantern light. "The effects of the solution linger for three days in the bath before dissipating. To maintain the flow, I will produce enough for an entire month at a time."
His gaze turned calculating, calm but sharp as the edge of his spear. "In addition, I'll keep extra vials prepared as a buffer. If the sect ever needs an emergency cultivation push, the reserves will serve us."
Yinxue studied him, her sternness softening for a rare moment. "…You plan everything ahead. No wonder chaos follows in your wake."
Haotian only smiled.
That afternoon, he returned to the alchemy hall. Flames roared as his cauldron worked ceaselessly, herbs melting into luminous liquids. His movements were efficient, precise, almost mechanical—every breath timed, every ingredient balanced. The cauldron never overflowed, never stalled, as though it, too, obeyed his will.
Bottle after bottle filled, sealed, and stored in frost-lined chests. Rows of them stacked neatly by the wall, enough to sustain the sect for weeks.
By dawn the next day, everything was ready.
The Frost Bath House was officially opened.
Disciples streamed into its vast chamber, gasping at the crystal waters glowing faintly with silver-blue light. Laughter and awe filled the sect once more, the lifeless gloom of days past banished.
Outside, Yinxue stood silently, watching as the first group of disciples entered the bath. Her heart stirred faintly.
Perhaps the Moon Lotus Sect has been blessed by fate itself.
And at its center stood Haotian—the man who had made it possible.
The bathhouse steamed like a silver lake, its waters glowing with a soft, moonlit radiance. The Moonfrost Solution spread evenly, releasing a sweet, cold fragrance that clung to the air.
The disciples slipped into the waters one after another, some timid, some eager. The moment their skin touched the frost-imbued bath, the effect was undeniable.
"Oh!" a girl gasped, clutching her chest. "My qi… it's circulating on its own!"
Another disciple's eyes widened as frost light spread along her veins like glittering rivers. "M-My bottleneck is gone—I broke through! Without even focusing!"
Ripples of shock passed through the bath as several disciples felt their cultivation levels lurch forward. The sound of breakthroughs echoed like muffled thunder beneath the water.
The astonishment quickly gave way to silence. For a time, no one dared move. The disciples simply sat still, letting the cold currents wrap around their bodies, too overwhelmed by the sudden growth to even speak.
But then, little by little, the mood shifted. One disciple giggled nervously as she flicked water at her friend. Another followed, laughter breaking the reverent silence. Soon, half the pool bubbled with chatter and teasing splashes, while the other half sat in still concentration, cultivating as frost qi poured into their meridians.
And yet, even the ones playing could feel it—the cultivation continued without effort. Their bodies absorbed the yin essence naturally, like breathing. They laughed and joked, but their foundations solidified all the same.
It wasn't long before the elders, drawn by rumor and aura alike, stepped inside. Normally dignified women of wisdom, they froze at the sight of their disciples splashing about. But when they dipped a hand into the luminous water, even they faltered.
"This… this bath cleanses even my aged meridians," one elder whispered in disbelief.
Another elder shed her robes without hesitation and slid into the pool. "If I don't seize this chance, I'll regret it for the rest of my life."
Their composure lasted only minutes. Soon the elders were mingling freely among the younger disciples, their stern faces melting into smiles.
Then, the grandest shock of all: the doors slid open, and Sect Master Yinxue herself entered.
The entire bath fell into stunned silence. Steam drifted slowly around her as she walked forward, her snowy robes pristine, her expression as unreadable as always.
Without a word, she disrobed and stepped into the bath.
Gasps rippled through the disciples."The Sect Master…!""She's bathing… with us?!"
Even the elders stiffened. For generations, Yinxue had been an untouchable figure, aloof and cold as the moon. Yet here she was, sinking into the luminous water alongside them.
The silence hung heavy, all eyes sneaking toward her.
Then, to everyone's utter disbelief, the faintest sigh escaped her lips. Yinxue leaned back against the edge of the bath, closing her eyes as the frost qi wove through her flawless skin.
And just like that, the tension snapped.
Laughter resumed, louder than before. Some disciples splashed each other; others leaned together, whispering about their breakthroughs. Elders chuckled softly, a rare lightness in their eyes. The oppressive atmosphere that had gripped the sect for days dissolved in that glowing pool of yin qi.
Even Sect Master Yinxue allowed herself a faint smile, unseen beneath her closed eyes.
The Moon Lotus Sect, once haunted by despair and gloom, now sparkled with new life. And all of it stemmed from one man's return—and his gift to them.
On the far side of the luminous pool, where the steam curled thicker and laughter did not reach as easily, Yin Shuyue sat quietly.
Her slender figure was half-immersed in the crystalline water, her posture straight, hands folded in her lap. Unlike the others who splashed and giggled, she had chosen stillness. Her eyes closed, breathing steady, she allowed the Moonfrost currents to circulate through her body.
The sensation was extraordinary. It was as though the water itself reached into her meridians, guiding her qi in flawless pathways, smoothing blockages she had battled for years.
This place… it's like a sacred pool.
She exhaled softly, frost light flickering from her lips. Her cultivation rose in quiet surges, her body tempering under the yin currents. Yet her heart was not at peace.
After some time, she opened her eyes. The scene before her almost felt unreal.
Disciples laughed freely, some soaking in cultivation, others simply enjoying themselves without restraint. Elders, normally dignified and distant, now joined them, their composure melting away. And there—at the center—Sect Master Yinxue herself leaned against the edge, her rare smile breaking centuries of icy aloofness.
Shuyue's lips parted slightly. Even Sect Master… smiling?
Her gaze drifted lower, toward the surface of the glowing water rippling around her.
All of this… was because of him.
Her chest tightened faintly as she remembered Haotian—the way he carried himself with that careless smile, the way he brought treasures back as though fate bent around him, the way he had set this entire miracle into motion.
A faint warmth rose in her heart, conflicting with the cold purity of the pool. Her cultivation had taught her to seal away such emotions, to lock her heart behind stone. And yet, no matter how she tried, they slipped through.
She clenched her hands under the water. Why… why does it always come back to him?
But when her eyes wandered once more across the pool, at the joyous scene transformed by his gift, even she could not deny the truth.
Haotian had not only reshaped the sect's cultivation foundation—he had reshaped its very spirit.
And though she sat in silence, cultivating alone, her heart whispered words she would never speak aloud:
Haotian… you've changed everything.
The cold waters shimmered brighter around her, as though answering her thoughts.
In the quiet depths of the sect's library, lit only by lantern flame, Haotian sat at a long jade table with books sprawled open before him.
The laughter of disciples echoed faintly from the distance, muffled through walls and courtyards — the unmistakable sound of joy from the newly built Frost Bath House. He allowed himself a faint smile at the thought. Good. They deserve this peace.
But his focus remained steady. The text before him was an ancient scroll on Frost Falcons, their rare lineage traced across generations of the northern ice plains. He read every line with care: their sharp talons, faster than arrows; their ability to release frost winds sharp enough to slice boulders; their notorious weakness to fire qi; and, most intriguing of all — their potential for evolution.
Haotian leaned back, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "A falcon that absorbs enough yin essence can develop crystalline feathers… and with proper pills, their wings can refine qi as if they were spirit stones themselves. If raised properly, they could surpass even the might of ice-dwelling spirit beasts."
He set the scroll aside and reached into his spatial ring.
Three large frost-speckled eggs materialized on the jade floor, faintly glowing with cold light. They pulsed softly, like sleeping hearts waiting to awaken.
For a long moment, Haotian stared at them in silence. "You three… I don't know when you'll hatch," he murmured, his tone softer than usual, almost reverent. "But if you are to be part of this sect's future, you must be strong from the start."
His decision was swift. He pressed his hand against the floor, channels of light blooming outward in intricate lines. With practiced hand seals, he inscribed a Frost Qi Gathering Formation, its runes spiraling in eleven concentric layers.
The air in the library turned cold enough for frost to creep across the bookshelves. A low hum filled the chamber as threads of yin qi poured in, drawn from the distant aura of the Frost Lotus Tree itself. The gathering qi swirled into the circle, pooling around the eggs.
Almost immediately, the eggs trembled faintly, their frosty shells exhaling mist.
Haotian nodded. "Good. Draw in the frost, let it temper you before you even see the world."
He sat cross-legged before them, monitoring the formation with his Eyes of the Universe. Each time a fluctuation occurred, he stabilized it, ensuring the influx of qi was neither too harsh nor too weak. Hours passed into days, the rhythm of his cultivation syncing with the heartbeat-like pulses of the eggs.
On the seventh night, as the moonlight bathed the sect, the eggs suddenly shuddered. Faint cracks appeared across their icy shells, each one glowing faintly blue. A thin cry — sharp, like the whistle of wind through glaciers — pierced the silence.
Haotian opened his eyes, lips curling into a small smile. "So… it's time."
The first sign of hatching had begun.
The library chamber was still, save for the hum of the formation lines glowing faint blue across the jade floor. Haotian sat cross-legged before the three great eggs, his expression calm but his senses sharp.
Cracks widened across the frost-shelled ovals, thin lines glowing like veins of moonlight. The air grew colder with every pulse — a deep, bone-gnawing cold that could freeze the breath in one's lungs. Yet Haotian remained unmoving, his aura steady, shielding the chamber from shattering apart under the sudden spikes of qi.
So, you've chosen this night to come into the world.
The first egg gave a sharp crack, and with a piercing cry, a shard of shell burst away. From within, a small beak of translucent blue pecked forward, followed by a trembling head covered in downy frost-white feathers. Its eyes opened — glimmering like twin sapphires.
The hatchling's gaze locked directly on Haotian. For a long heartbeat, silence filled the room. Then, with a frail but determined motion, the chick chirped weakly and dragged itself toward him, collapsing against his leg.
Haotian's eyes softened. "You've decided already? Then so be it. I'll be your first sight in this world."
As though hearing, the falcon gave a satisfied chirp, closing its eyes in exhaustion.
Moments later, the second egg shattered violently, releasing a surge of icy mist. A stronger hatchling tumbled out, wings already twitching. Its cry was sharper, prouder. Yet when it saw Haotian, it faltered, tilted its head — and waddled unsteadily toward him, pressing against his arm.
Finally, the third egg, the largest, cracked slowly. The aura it released was heavier, colder, almost regal. When the shell broke apart, a falcon with feathers tipped in pale silver stumbled free. Unlike the others, it did not move immediately. Instead, it stared directly at Haotian, eyes bright with an intelligence far beyond its age.
The silence stretched. Then, with deliberate grace, it lowered its head and folded its fragile wings, bowing before him before pressing its body close.
Haotian exhaled slowly. "So… you three have accepted me. Then I'll take responsibility for you."
He extended his palm, channeling a faint thread of pure yin qi into their small bodies. Instantly, their shivering eased. The chicks nestled closer, their breathing soft and steady. The frost aura in the room stabilized, no longer biting, but gentle — almost protective.
For the first time in centuries, three Frost Falcons had been born into the world. And to them, there was no sect, no sky, no master.
There was only Haotian — the first figure they had seen, the one whose qi nurtured their first breaths.
In their eyes, he was not their caretaker. He was their mother.
Haotian let out a small chuckle, glancing down at the tiny, fragile creatures now huddled against him. "I wonder what the sect will think once they see you three… but for now, this will remain our secret."
The frost runes dimmed as the formation stabilized into a quiet glow. The library fell silent once more, broken only by the faint, rhythmic chirps of newborn life.
The library chamber no longer felt like the solemn vault of wisdom it once was. Now, its polished jade floors were scattered with stray down feathers, bits of broken shells still clinging to the corners, and the faint, high-pitched chirps of life that never seemed to quiet.
Haotian sat cross-legged at the center, sleeves rolled up, his usually immaculate presence dampened by the task of cleaning up after three excitable hatchlings. One falcon chick gnawed at the tassel of his robe; another flapped its stubby wings in a proud but uncoordinated attempt to lift off, only to fall beak-first into a pile of scrolls. The third sat still, regal even as a chick, watching its siblings with calm sapphire eyes that carried the weight of a mountain.
Haotian sighed, shaking his head with a faint smile. "So this is what motherhood feels like…"
The first days had been a blur — endless rounds of feeding, wiping, cleaning, and coaxing. The falcons demanded attention at every moment, refusing to sleep unless nestled against his body. At night, he would wake to the sound of their wings fluttering and tiny talons scratching against his robes, each seeking the warmth of his qi.
He had prepared pills infused with frost chi, formulas pieced together from the library's records and refined by his own hand. The chicks gobbled them eagerly, their feathers shining brighter with each passing day, their cries sharper and stronger.
Already, the difference was clear. These were no ordinary Frost Falcons. The gathering formation he had set up, combined with the Frost Lotus Tree's aura, had accelerated their growth. Their bodies brimmed with yin essence, their bones dense with qi even at this early age.
Tonight, as he leaned against a low shelf while watching them play, a thought struck him. "You've been born into this world. You've chosen me as your master… no, as your parent. Then it's time I give you names."
The chicks stopped their playful squabbles, turning to him as if they understood.
Haotian looked at the smallest one, the one who had first crawled to his leg on trembling wings. "You… are the most stubborn, but the most determined. From now on, you'll be Ling'er. May your perseverance carry you to the heavens."
The chick chirped happily, hopping closer as if in agreement.
Next, his eyes fell on the loudest one — the bold, brash falcon who had shattered its shell in a storm of frost and charged toward him without hesitation. "And you, always wanting to prove yourself… I'll call you Xue'er. Cold as snow, fierce as the storm."
The chick gave a defiant screech, flapping its wings so hard it knocked over an inkstone. Haotian chuckled. "Yes, that suits you."
Finally, he looked at the largest one — the silver-tipped falcon, its calm eyes never leaving him, regal even in stillness. "And you… the leader. You bow before striking, but your strength is undeniable. You'll be Baiyun. White Cloud — serene above all, yet shadowing mountains when you descend."
Baiyun tilted its head, then slowly folded its wings, lowering itself in acknowledgment.
Haotian exhaled deeply. "Ling'er, Xue'er, Baiyun. My three Frost Falcons."
As if in unison, the hatchlings chirped together, their cries filling the chamber like a chorus of bells. For the first time, Haotian allowed himself to close his eyes and smile without restraint.
He had never expected this — to feel a bond so natural, so unshakable. In this cold world of cultivation, where betrayal and ambition were everywhere, these creatures gave him something different: loyalty born not of fear or profit, but of life itself.
Outside, the night wind whispered through the sect's pavilions. Inside, under the glow of frostlight, three falcons huddled close to Haotian, their breaths syncing with his.
It was no longer just him. He had a family now.