The wind cut through the silence like a blade of glass, carrying flecks of snow that shimmered beneath the pale moon. The mountains stretched endlessly to the north, cloaked in white and shadow. The air was thin, sharp enough to make every breath feel like swallowing needles.
Jian Wu walked ahead, boots crunching against the frozen ground. His robe, once dark, was now dusted with frost. Behind him, Mei Xue followed, her steps lighter but slower. Her fingers clutched the edge of her cloak, though the cold still bit into her skin.
"Do you even know where this path leads?" she asked finally, her voice barely rising above the howl of the wind.
Jian Wu didn't turn. "Forward."
"That's not an answer," she muttered, half in annoyance, half in exhaustion.
He paused for a moment, looking at the horizon, nothing but endless snow and sky. "Sometimes the answer isn't a direction, Mei Xue. It's the will to keep walking."
Mei Xue exhaled, a misty sigh lost to the wind. She looked down, watching her footprints disappear behind her. "You make it sound poetic… but I'm freezing."
Jian Wu smiled faintly, though she couldn't see it. "Then stay close."
She did. Maybe it was the cold, or maybe it was something else, but being near him made her heartbeat steadier. The silence between them wasn't heavy anymore, it was almost comforting, like a fragile truce between two weary souls.
Hours passed before they found a narrow ledge between two cliffs. Jian Wu raised his hand, and faint white qi flickered from his palm. A small flame appeared, weak, wavering, but enough to hold the night at bay.
Mei Xue crouched beside it, rubbing her hands. "You'd think the great 'Heir of the Primal Law' could conjure a bigger fire."
He looked at her, amused. "And you'd think a cultivator who nearly froze me last winter would appreciate small warmth."
She laughed softly, the sound fragile but real. "Maybe I've changed."
He studied her for a moment, the way the firelight painted her face in soft gold. "No. You've grown."
Silence fell again, broken only by the crackle of the tiny flame. Then Mei Xue's voice dropped, quieter, almost afraid. "Jian Wu… why do you keep doing this? You fight, you run, you suffer. For what?"
He didn't answer right away. His gaze lingered on the snowflakes melting in the heat. "Because if I stop, everything I've lost stays meaningless."
She looked away, guilt flickering in her eyes. "I hate that answer."
He smiled again, this time softer. "So do I."
The wind outside shifted, low and uneasy. Mei Xue frowned and turned toward the cliff. The mist there wasn't moving like before, it swirled slowly, unnaturally, like breath rising from a sleeping beast.
"Jian Wu…" she whispered.
He stood instantly, his aura flickering faintly. The mist thickened, and from within it came a dim blue glow. For a heartbeat, it looked like stars trapped beneath the snow, then the shape took form.
A figure in white robes. Standing still. Watching.
Its eyes glowed faintly azure, unblinking.
Mei Xue's hand went to her weapon. "Who..what is that?"
Jian Wu stepped forward, snow crunching beneath his boots. "Not who," he said quietly. "Something that shouldn't be awake yet."
The figure tilted its head, and the wind stopped. Even the flame between them trembled, shrinking smaller and smaller until only its ember remained.
Then the figure spoke, its voice calm, layered with something ancient.
"The path you walk… was never meant for mortals."
Jian Wu's breath froze in his chest. That voice, he had heard it once before, long ago, in the valley where his fate was rewritten.
Mei Xue gripped his sleeve. "Jian Wu, don't.."
He took another step forward. "Then tell me," he said softly. "Whose path is it?"
The mist surged. The world blurred.
And in that instant, the snowstorm above them stopped falling, as if the sky itself was holding its breath.