Feixue City lay close to the Northern Domain, so winter arrived earlier than in ordinary places.
Fang Wen and his companions had noticed this as well.
The farther north they traveled, the colder it became, and they could not help but change into warmer clothes to fend off the chill.
The night before reaching Feixue City was particularly amusing.
During the day, a dense, fine drizzle had fallen, but once night descended, the temperature plummeted, and the light rain abruptly turned into tiny hailstones.
Fortunately, they were very small and could not injure anyone, causing only a prickling sting across the skin.
Lu Guiyan told Fang Wen that winter in the Northern Domain was vastly colder than in the Eastern Domain, all because the Northern Domain bordered the Great Glacier.
That Great Glacier stood like a natural barrier, cutting off all attempts to explore beyond.
Even those whose martial arts had reached the pinnacle found it nearly impossible to cross.
Over the years, many experts had ventured into it, but most never returned. The few who occasionally made it back blanched at the mere mention of the "Glacier," claiming it was by no means a place the living could tread.
Yet beneath the Great Glacier, a mysterious Snow Kingdom was said to exist.
Legend had it that they possessed the most magnificent landscapes, the most precious treasures, the most terrifying martial arts, and the most pure, untainted women in the world.
For generations, the experts seeking to explore the Great Glacier were far outnumbered by those who set out to find this mysterious Snow Kingdom.
Yet most of them returned empty-handed.
Even the muddle-headed few who did stumble upon the people of that Snow Kingdom could never find the right path when they tried to return.
Over time, it had become a legend steeped in mystery across the jianghu.
Fang Wen committed these tales to memory, thinking that he might well take a stroll through the Northern Domain someday.
In the past, his foundation had been damaged, leaving him with no hope of mastering great martial arts, so naturally he had not dared to dream of the heights of the jianghu.
Now, however, things were entirely different. Ascending to the very peak was no longer a pipe dream.
Fang Wen certainly would not be content to stay confined to a quiet corner. The world was full of wondrous mountains, rivers, and sights; anything worth seeing, he naturally had to go see.
Still, looking at Feixue City right before his eyes, Fang Wen was even more curious about what sort of reward he would receive this time.
Compared to great cities like Guangning City and Julu City, Feixue City was without doubt a small city.
Yet small as a sparrow might be, it still possessed all its vital organs.
With thick city walls and towering gates, it lacked nothing. But just as Fang Wen laid eyes on them, a resounding boom thundered through the air.
Accompanied by muffled groans, several figures went flying backward.
A raucous voice roared:
"I've said all there is to say, good and bad! Is this Feixue City of yours some forbidden ground on earth?
"Today, this old man is getting in no matter what!"
As the words fell, another dull crash sounded.
Only then did Lu Guiyan speak in astonishment:
"Someone is attacking... Feixue City's gate?"
Fang Wen nodded, a hint of amusement glinting in his eyes.
Lu Guiyan, however, wore a look of utter amazement.
"Feixue City has endured for over a hundred years across three generations. Except for the second-generation city lord, Wu Changzai, whose martial arts were mediocre and led Feixue City into quite a few crises...
"Ever since Wu Lingxiao inherited the seat of city lord, no one has dared to do such a thing for well over a decade.
"Who is this person? What brazen nerve!"
"It's not just brazen nerve..."
Fang Wen said with a chuckle, "His information must be exceptionally well-sourced too."
Hearing this, Lu Guiyan looked at Fang Wen. As their eyes met, she nodded slowly.
She understood that Fang Wen suspected the man knew Wu Lingxiao was gravely injured. Otherwise, how could he dare act so recklessly?
While the group stood not far away watching the commotion, two more figures approached from either side of the road.
They came from two different directions.
One was a burly ascetic monk carrying a crescent shovel on his back and wearing a large string of prayer beads around his neck.
He strode forward with leaping bounds, each step spanning over a zhang, and arrived before them in mere moments.
The other was a young man riding a donkey. Not very old, he wore a look of bitter enmity, as though enemies surrounded him in every direction—above, below, left, right, front, and back—and he looked upon everyone with irritation.
Yet what drew Fang Wen's attention more was the donkey.
The piebald grey-and-white donkey lifted its head with every step, straining to reach a carrot dangling before its nose, yet failing every time.
Growing desperate, it would break into a mad sprint, but the carrot darted ahead with it, swaying left and right.
The little donkey swayed along with it, finally spinning in circles trying to snap at the carrot.
Sitting atop its back, the young man was jolted violently one moment and spun in circles on the spot the next, until his head swam.
His already sour expression turned even uglier.
Fang Wen mused to himself that he probably knew why the young man looked at everyone with such bitter resentment.
He watched with relish, and just as he was about to chuckle, he suddenly glanced behind him.
At the end of the road, another figure came strolling forward.
Before the others could make out the newcomer's features, Fang Wen saw him clearly.
This was a scholar.
Wearing a coarse cloth scholar's robe and a square scholar's cap, he had a waterskin hanging from his waist, his left hand clasped behind his back and his right holding a book.
As he traveled, he did not look at the road, but kept his eyes solely on the book.
As a result, he rarely noticed any obstacles in his path. When a large boulder blocked the way, he didn't even raise his head, crashing right into it and smashing the rock straight into powder, scattering debris into the air.
Yet he didn't spare it a single glance, keeping his eyes glued to the words in his book.
As if the world inside the book were a hundred times more wondrous than reality.
Fang Wen narrowed his eyes slightly. This was an expert.
And just as Fang Wen squinted at him, the scholar seemed to sense it as well and raised his head toward Fang Wen.
The scholar's pace seemed slow yet was actually swift. When Fang Wen first noticed him, he was still far off, but now he was less than three zhang from Fang Wen and the others.
Squinting at Fang Wen, he suddenly spoke words that took everyone aback:
"City Lord Wu?"
Fang Wen froze. Lu Guiyan and the others hastily glanced left and right, yet aside from themselves, there was only the group gathered in the distance before Feixue City's gate.
Where was there any sign of City Lord Wu?
The scholar took two steps forward, then remarked in sudden realization:
"My apologies. Mistook you."
Having said that, he bowed his head back to his book, reading as he hurried toward Feixue City.
"..."
Lu Guiyan stared in disbelief. Was this man insane?
Though she thought it, she dared not say it aloud.
Fang Wen looked at the man's retreating back, a sudden flash of inspiration striking him.
"Could this guy... be nearsighted?"
Yet he wondered: profound internal skill usually sharpened the eyes and ears. This scholar was clearly no ordinary figure, possessing martial arts that cultivated both inner and outer disciplines at the very least. How could he have ended up nearsighted?
At this thought, he glanced at Chen Qi.
From the moment the scholar appeared, Chen Qi had quietly rested a hand on his sword hilt.
His breath and body had both remained in an intensely taut state, relaxing only after the man had passed them by.
Noticing Fang Wen's gaze, Chen Qi instinctively looked over.
Fang Wen spoke softly:
"You know him?"
Chen Qi thought for a moment.
"He is... Murong Qingchen."
Murong Qingchen... Fang Wen turned the name over in his mind, finding it somewhat familiar.
Lu Guiyan, however, drew in a sharp breath.
"The Book Immortal, Murong Qingchen?!"
Chapter 81