The biting Yukon wind felt like countless icy needles stabbing Jiang Jiang's exposed skin.
He tightened the thick hospital-issued coat around himself and stood in front of the Royal Hospital, eyes scanning the street with sharp vigilance.
The trauma of the polar nightmare three days ago still echoed through his veins, but more disturbing was the chilling sensation of being watched.
He knew—the man with the scalpel and telescope on the rooftop, or the power behind him—the Dark Medicine Sect—would not let him go so easily.
"Polar Station C Museum…"
He muttered Lin Nine Needles's last clue—perhaps his only lifeline.
Eighty-one days sounded like a long time, but searching for eight lost medical scrolls across the world?
That was like trying to find a needle in the ocean.
He touched the jade pendant on his chest.
Its smooth texture brought a strange peace.
It really seemed to have power: when he focused to activate the Xuantian Eye, the energy fluctuations were greatly suppressed.
The aurora outside, which once stirred in sync with his emotions, had returned to a calm flow.
He hailed a cab. "To Polar Station C Museum, please."
The car drove slowly through the snow-laden roads.
Jiang Jiang leaned on the window, doing his best to look like a normal tourist recovering from a survival ordeal.
But in brief, unguarded moments, a faint shimmer flickered deep within his pupils—
He was learning to control his new power.
His gaze passed over passersby:
—A man in a puffy coat. The Xuantian Eye pierced his lungs: cloudy shadows, severe pneumonia.
—An elderly woman with shopping bags. Her knees showed advanced degeneration, with friction points unseen by normal eyes.
—Even a jay pecking at snow—the rhythm of its heartbeats lit up clearly in Jiang Jiang's second sight.
This power was incredible, and terrifying.
Lin Nine Needles had said the needles could save or kill.
Now, Jiang Jiang truly understood what he meant.
He clenched the bamboo scroll and the nine cold silver needles in his pocket.
They almost seemed alive, resonating faintly with something inside him.
The Polar Station C Museum stood on the outskirts of Dawson City, repurposed from an old supply station of the Gold Rush era.
Its massive wooden frame loomed solitary on the white plain, aged walls and snowy roof whispering of time.
A few tour buses were parked outside—seems like there were many visitors today.
Jiang Jiang bought a ticket and followed the crowd into the cold, history-soaked halls.
Whale bones, ancient sleds, Inuit kayaks, tools from gold prospectors—
Each artifact told a silent tale of mankind's conquest of the cold.
The air smelled of wood, dust, and antifreeze oil.
He had one goal: find any clue related to Xuantian Medicine or Lin Nine Needles.
But in a museum focused on polar exploration and gold mining, looking for Chinese medicine was like searching for bamboo in the tundra.
He cautiously activated his Xuantian Eye again, scanning through display cases, trying to detect hidden compartments or unusual energy signatures.
But all he found were the inner wear patterns of old objects—and a few tourists' wallets and phones inside their pockets.
Minutes passed. Then hours.
Frustration crept in like a thorny vine.
Lin had said there was a clue here—but what kind? A book? An artifact? A person?
Was it even still here?
Just as he was about to ask a staff member for special archives, his eyes caught a neglected corner of the museum.
There, a collection of personal items from early polar explorers—
Worn gloves, rusty compasses, yellowed journals…
And one object made Jiang Jiang's heart skip a beat.
A small brass acupuncture box.
It sat casually in a glass case among surgical tools and forceps, labeled:
"Replica of late 19th-century Gold Rush medical supplies."
But Jiang Jiang's Xuantian Eye flared.
What appeared to be a simple box was in fact exquisitely structured—far beyond 19th-century craftsmanship!
More importantly, the inside of the lid bore microscopic carvings—
Ancient text, invisible to the naked eye, in the exact same style as his bamboo scroll!
His heart pounded violently.
He moved closer, feigning curiosity.
The Eye zoomed in—he could barely keep up with the flood of information.
Only broken phrases emerged:
"…North…Cold Abyss…Sealed…Guarded…"
"…Needles…Map…Guide…"
"…Only…Xuantian…Bloodline…May Unlock…"
"Cold Abyss"?
A location?
A map… that only someone with the Xuantian bloodline and the silver needles could activate?
Just then, a chilling sensation crawled up his back.
Not cold air—something worse.
That locked-on feeling.
Predator's eyes.
The same sensation from the rooftop. From the Xuantian Station.
The Dark Medicine Sect!
They had come!
Jiang Jiang whirled around.
His Eye flared to full power—like a searchlight.
Crowds bustled near the entrance. Tourists read maps.
Then—he locked on.
A man in a dark gray wool coat.
Just as he turned to walk into the "Polar Ecology Zone" hall, Jiang Jiang caught a glimpse of a faint silver reflection on his collar—
A scalpel badge? Or something worse?
No time to hesitate.
The clue was here. The enemy too!
Jiang Jiang inhaled deeply.
The freezing air steadied his trembling hands.
No more hiding.
He stepped forward, chasing that gray figure into the hallway.
The needles in his pocket vibrated faintly, sensing his resolve.
Nine needles—like sleeping serpents, ready to strike.
"Cold Abyss… Map…"
The carvings echoed in his head.
Each step down the narrow hallway rang like a war drum.
Lin Nine Needles's warning resounded again:
"The needles can heal, but also kill. Be careful..."
The hallway mimicked polar dimness.
Photos of polar bears and seals lined the walls.
His Eye gave him superior vision.
Ahead, the gray figure walked calmly—almost too calmly.
Ten meters… eight… five…
Just as Jiang Jiang prepared to pounce, the figure turned and vanished behind a projection screen of an iceberg.
Jiang Jiang rushed forward.
His Eye pierced the curtain—
Behind it was a narrow staff-only hallway.
But the figure… was gone.
"Impossible!"
The corridor was short, with only one locked iron door at the end.
No side exits. No hiding spots.
He looked up!
Above the plaster ceiling—air ducts and piping.
And there—
A faint, fast-moving heat signature, beastlike and filled with hostility, was charging at his head—non-human speed!
Jiang Jiang reacted by instinct—rolled!
Shraaak—!
Metal shrieked.
Three deep claw marks carved through the wall where he had just stood.
A figure landed silently in the hallway.
Blocking his exit.
Not the man.
A woman.
Tall and lithe.
Dressed in tight black combat gear, tactical vest, face hidden by a mask that revealed only cold, predatory eyes.
She hunched slightly, hands hanging—
No, not hands.
Her fingertips had extended into six long, curved claws of glinting steel—
Deadly and silent.
The tips still shimmered with shaved metal dust.
Her eyes glowed—not cyan like Lin's, but blood-red, savage, hungry.
No words.
Just killing intent.
"Dark Medicine Sect…" Jiang Jiang muttered.
He slowly stood, right hand sliding into his coat pocket—gripping the nine silver needles.
His spiritual energy surged.
The mark on his forehead grew warm.
And far above the sky, the aurora stirred restlessly once again.
The masked woman growled—
Not human.
She crouched lower.
Claws gleaming in the dark—
Needles versus claws.
Healer versus assassin.
In this dim corridor of the polar museum…
A deadly duel was about to begin.