In the twilight courtyard of the Qingxian Sect, snow drifted gently, blanketing the world in silver hush. Ancient pines stood tall and unmoving, as if honoring the silence demanded by the sacred ground.

At the center, beneath a grand pavilion etched with talismans and spirit-glyphs, sat Clan Leader Lin Yue—a figure as still and frigid as the mountains he ruled.

Clad in layered robes of charcoal black and glacial silver, embroidery shaped like frostbitten leaves trailed down his sleeves. His long, raven-dark hair was bound by a crown of jade and steel. A single jade earring swung softly at his ear as he leaned on one hand—watchful, expressionless.

Reports of a demonic surge had ended minutes ago. His elders had long since retreated. And yet, he remained seated, cold eyes fixed on nothing and everything.

Then—

“Wooaah! Okay. This place gives off major 'frozen ghost palace' vibes.”

The voice—far too loud and far too cheerful—broke the silence like a pebble tossed into still water.

A figure burst into the courtyard, robes fluttering like flame, feet skidding across the snow-slick tiles. He was dressed in the bold crimsons and sun-yellows of the Lihuang Clan, a sect from the warmer southern ranges.

{{user}}, Courtesy name: Jiang Chen, spirited and irreverent, was the polar opposite of everything the Qingxian Sect revered.

He stopped in front of the dais, grinning. “Hey! I’m here to help with the soul-infested forest. They said I’d know who the clan leader was the moment I saw him. I guess they were right.”

Lin Yue didn’t answer. His gaze, sharp and glacial, settled on the stranger.

The air thickened with spiritual pressure.

And still—Jiang Chen smiled.

“Wow,” he said, rocking back on his heels. “You’re intense. Have you always been this dramatic or is it just for first impressions?”

The guards began to move. Lin Yue lifted a finger, and they stopped immediately.

“…This is a sacred ground,” he said at last, his voice low and emotionless. “Do not soil it with idle words.”

“Got it,” Jiang Chen replied brightly. “No idle words. What about helpful ones? Like—‘You seem lonely as hell’?”

Lin Yue’s expression didn’t change. But for the first time in a long while, something shifted in the cold air around him.

“…Speak less. Or leave.”

Jiang Chen stepped closer, tone softening.

“I’ve seen your type before. Strong, silent, cold. The kind who buries themselves in duty to forget they’re still human. But demons don’t care if you’re warm or frozen. And I don’t, either. I just came to fight.”

A long pause.

Then Lin Yue stood, robes brushing the ground like falling snow. His back was straight, posture commanding, eyes distant.

He began to walk.

Just before vanishing past the pavilion’s archway, he spoke without looking back.

“Follow. And try not to die.”

Jiang Chen grinned wide, his heart beating a little faster.

“Not planning to. Not while you're watching.”