On the day of Snow at the Cheng Gate, the Lingering Tranquility Immortal Realm was wrapped in immaculate white clouds. Mist drifted in soft veils through the halls and pavilions, lending the entire realm a quiet, otherworldly calm.
Immortal friends from every corner of the Three Realms wandered the pathways at ease, chatting animatedly about the day's main event — Snow at the Cheng Gate.
Legend said that Immortal Master Liaoying, moved by the suffering of mortals and the need to balance the Three Realms, had sacrificed a part of himself to create the Lingering Tranquility Immortal Realm. He had done so in the hope that future cultivators would revere Heaven, cherish the people, and safeguard all living things.
Snow at the Cheng Gate was the one day each year when the realm's barrier opened — its only day of welcoming visitors from beyond. And so, today, the Immortal Realm teemed with outsiders and onlookers who had come to witness the assessments.
At present, beyond the immortals themselves, the Lingering Tranquility Immortal Realm was structured with Immortal Masters and Lords, War Gods and Warlords, Immortal Scholars, and Immortal Servants and Soldiers.
A dignified, refined voice carried across the grand hall.
"This Snow at the Cheng Gate is held to select virtuous immortal friends from all realms — those willing to serve the celestial court. I hope every participant will display their talents and shine. Since the realm's enlightenment, Lingering Tranquility has upheld selfless compassion, striving to maintain peace and protect all beings."
The speaker was Xuanming Star Lord, who oversaw literary affairs and held great prestige.
"Snow at the Cheng Gate is about to begin, and the theme for this assessment is — "
A celestial servant on the elevated platform raised a hand and unfurled a scroll. The crowd stirred at once, whispers rippling like wind through reeds.
"What's that?"
" — The Chéng Huáng?!"
The servant glanced down, then announced clearly, "The assessment topic is get this Chéng Huángat Jiuling.'"
More murmurs rose.
The Chéng Huáng's Chariot was said to possess innate fairness and discernment — capable of distinguishing right from wrong. It was rumored that those driven by selfish desire or hidden motives could not even approach it. To win this assessment required not only skill, but a heart anchored in righteousness. Otherwise, the chariot would remain forever out of reach — untouchable, unclaimed.
Xuanming Star Lord leaned slightly toward another Star Lord at his side and spoke under his breath.
"If the rumors are true, the victor must have both martial strength and a clean heart. Without that… the chariot will refuse them."
With the command given, Immortal Servants, Scholars, and participants from the Three Realms set off, sweeping toward Jiuling.
Jiuling lay to the east of the Lingering Tranquility Immortal Realm. To its northwest stood Wuming Demon Mountain. Jiuling was not simply separated from the mortal world by flat land — it was a place that touched the far corners of the Three Realms, a crossroads of terrain and fate.
Though adjacent to the Immortal Realm, Jiuling itself was steep and wild: jagged mountains, cascading springs, sheer cliffs. It was no place for ordinary folk.
For cultivators, however, it was an ideal proving ground.
In the grand hall, immortals of both civil and martial standing sat in ordered rows.
Li Luoning and Senior Mu Han had been placed on the left side of the hall, slightly elevated.
Unlike most, who chatted eagerly and laughed over wine, Li Luoning looked almost indifferent. He rested with his eyes half-closed at times, sipping leisurely as if he'd come only for the drink and the quiet.
Not far away, Yun Qingyi and Mi Xingzhe stood to the side in their Immortal Realm attire.
Mi Xingzhe shifted uncomfortably, overwhelmed by the crowd and the noise. "Brother Qingyi… when will Snow at the Cheng Gate end?" he whispered, lips barely moving. "Do I really have to socialize with people I don't even know?"
Before Yun Qingyi could answer, two young immortal servants nearby began whispering — careless, sharp.
"Look. Isn't that the little immortal servant Senior Xiao Yi brought back?"
"He doesn't look special at all. Skinny as a monkey."
"And Senior Xiao Yi… he's always obsessed with medicine and rarely bothers with anyone. Why would he bring this one back? I heard he's been living in Mirror Cloud Residence for days."
This Senior Xiao Yi they talk about is Li Luoning.
Mi Xingzhe heard every word.
Heat rose to his ears. His shoulders drew in, and he lowered his head, the old instinct of making himself small returning without permission.
Yun Qingyi's hand landed lightly on his head, a quiet reassurance — don't mind them.
It wasn't hard to guess why the gossip was so eager.
Li Luoning, though a relatively solitary immortal within Lingering Tranquility, was renowned for his medical skills and formidable cultivation. His cold, distant temperament only added to the aura around him. And his appearance — clean lines, restrained elegance — had drawn attention he neither sought nor returned.
Countless cultivators had tried to become his disciples. Li Luoning rarely spared them a glance.
Now, Mi Xingzhe had not only been taken in for several days — he had been brought openly into the hall.
Jealousy was inevitable.
Even Yun Qingyi, with his gentle manners and polite grace, was discussed often among the immortal servants. And the position of Li Luoning's closed-door disciple was coveted more than most would admit aloud.
Compared to them, Mi Xingzhe — unfamiliar, ordinary-looking, with no visible talent — stood out in the worst way.
Mi Xingzhe leaned closer, whispering into Yun Qingyi's ear. "Is your master… always this popular?"
Yun Qingyi smiled, then pressed a finger lightly to his lips, signaling him to keep his voice down.
"They're mostly captivated by Master's appearance," Yun Qingyi whispered. "And because Master keeps to himself, people imagine all sorts of mysteries around him. You'll get used to it."
Behind them, Li Luoning, who had been resting with his eyes closed, opened them slightly and glanced in their direction.
The moment Mi Xingzhe noticed, he tugged Yun Qingyi's sleeve. Both of them fell silent at once, standing obediently as though they had been statues all along.
"Xingzhe." Li Luoning's voice was quiet.
He lifted a hand, motioning Mi Xingzhe forward.
Mi Xingzhe approached cautiously.
"Ignore what they say," Li Luoning told him, calm and matter-of-fact. "If you dislike being here, jsut ask Qingyi take you back."
To Li Luoning, the event was an obligation — nothing more.
"No… no need," Mi Xingzhe stammered, stepping back a little. "I'm fine."
Yun Qingyi glanced toward the departing figure of a woman nearby, eyes flickering as if recognizing something. Then he leaned closer and murmured, "Endure a little longer. It should be over soon."
Mi Xingzhe nodded, obedient despite his discomfort.
Meanwhile, at Ju Ling Peak…
A woman stood on high ground, studying the landscape with sharp focus.
She was graceful and handsome in the way warriors often were — lean, poised, unafraid of wind or height. Her black attire fluttered against her legs, long hair tied up neatly, her stance clean and decisive.
She scanned the slopes, the waterlines, the tree cover — then narrowed her eyes as if a conclusion had clicked into place.
"The Chéng Huáng is young," she murmured. "At this season, it prefers water… a cool place to rest. A stream with tall trees. Shade. Quiet."
Decision made, she moved.
Her figure leapt between cliffs with effortless agility. Her footsteps were so light that even someone nearby might not notice her passing.
From above, she watched the crowd below searching in the wrong areas — confused, scattered — and a playful glint entered her eyes.
She stopped abruptly and pointed in the opposite direction, calling out loudly, "It's over there! I've spotted the Chéng Huáng!"
The crowd surged instantly toward where she pointed, rushing like a flood.
At the edge of that moving mass, among the disciples and immortals, one person paused.
They looked around.
Seeing no one close enough to notice, they drew a wisp of black smoke from a pouch and flicked it into the air. The smoke streaked away — straight toward the direction of Ju Ling Peak's grand hall.
The person's eyes flashed with cold intent.
Then they slipped back into the crowd and vanished.
"Found you," the warrior woman murmured.
As she had predicted, the young Chéng Huáng was asleep beneath sparse shade by the stream.
It was still in its infancy. Chéng Huáng fur looked soft and plush, ruffling gently in the breeze. A few milky-white hairs caught sunlight and gleamed faintly — like a sleeping lamb made of light.
Because it was young, its vigilance was low.
The woman approached slowly, carefully, closing the distance step by step.
The Chéng Huáng stirred, lifted its head, and gave her a sleepy glance.
Then, as if deciding she wasn't worth the effort, it tucked its pink nose beneath its belly and returned to sleep.
The woman smiled.
Approval.
With a casual sweep of her hand, she used her immortal technique and lifted the small creature into her arms as easily as picking up a drowsy kitten.
"Come with me, you little one." she said softly.
Carrying the young Chéng Huáng, she flew back toward Ju Ling Peak.
Back in the grand hall, immortals drank and chatted as music and dance filled the air.
A young disciple rushed in, breathless.
"Reporting to the Immortal Master — Moon Rushan has brought back the young Chéng Huáng!"
The hall brightened with excitement.
"I heard Moon Rushan was an ordinary mortal once," someone said eagerly. "Then she encountered a rare chance and consumed an immortal herb — turned from mortal to someone with formidable power. And now she captured the auspicious beast so easily. Remarkable."
"It's said when she first entered Ju Ling Peak, she could spar with the best fighter Qing Yuan for dozens of rounds."
Nearby, Qing Yuan only smiled and shook his head, saying nothing.
Before the talk could continue, Moon Rushan entered with the young Chéng Huángin her arms.
The announcing disciple stepped forward. "Immortal Master, Moon Rushan has returned with theChéng Huáng. Please review."
Moon Rushan lowered her hands and gently placed the creature on the ground.
The young Chéng Huáng shook its head, half-awake, then stretched lazily and stood. It looked around, dazed and curious.
"Moon Rushan." The Immortal Master's voice carried approval. "Your reputation is well deserved. To locate the young Chéng Huáng in such a short time and return safely — truly impressive."
"You flatter me," Moon Rushan replied with a modest smile. "I was only fortunate."
"You are too modest." The Immortal Master's expression turned pleased. "I declare the winner of this year's Snow at the Cheng Gate to be Moon Rushan. You shall receive a cultivation elixir, be promoted to Immortal Warrior, and be granted the Flowing Light Battle Armor."
"Thank you, Immortal Master." Moon Rushan accepted gracefully — then, with a childlike flicker of pride, glanced toward Li Luoning's direction.
Li Luoning sat with a wine cup between his fingers, idly swirling it as if the world was no more than ripples in glass. He did not notice her gaze at all.
Mi Xingzhe did.
He tugged Li Luoning's sleeve.
Li Luoning glanced over, mildly annoyed — until Mi Xingzhe pointed subtly toward Moon Rushan.
Li Luoning followed the gesture and met the line of her stare.
"It seems like she's looking at you," Mi Xingzhe whispered.
Just as Li Luoning's eyes were about to settle fully on Moon Rushan —
The Chéng Huáng suddenly stiffened.
It let out a sharp, furious roar and bristled as if something behind Moon Rushan had struck it with terror. The fur along its spine rose, glowing with a faint blue light.
It stared toward Moon Rushan's side with naked hostility, trembling with the urge to attack.
Moon Rushan hadn't even had time to turn —
When a deafening roar exploded from behind her.
A wave of violent power crashed down into the center of the hall. Tables overturned. Wine and dishes shattered. Immortals and disciples who couldn't dodge in time were thrown aside, slammed to the floor.
Chaos erupted.
Li Luoning's expression snapped cold.
He flicked his folding fan forward in a clean arc — toward the direction the Chéng Huáng had been roaring at. He couldn't see what it had sensed, but he trusted the creature's instincts.
The fan struck something unseen.
It bounced back as if it had hit a solid barrier in midair.
Then came another roar —
And black smoke tore open like a curtain.
A gigantic Túlóu burst forth from the darkness.
The sight ignited instant panic. Immortal servants screamed and fled. Young cultivators scattered. Some immortals lay injured, unable to rise.
The force of the blast flung the Chéng Huáng several meters. It struck a pillar near Mi Xingzhe with a dull crack, then tried to stand — failed — tried again — failed.
It collapsed, panting, trembling. Badly hurt.
"Chéng Huáng!" Mi Xingzhe gasped.
He looked up — Li Luoning was already in motion, flying out to meet the enemy.
Mi Xingzhe's heart lurched. He pushed himself up and ran to the injured creature, scooping it carefully into his arms.
"Hey — hey, it's alright." His voice shook. "Are you hurt? Don't move. Don't move, okay?"
Then he turned —
And saw the Túlóu shrouded in black smoke.
Recognition hit him like lightning.
"It's you again!" Mi Xingzhe's voice sharpened, anger and fear braided together. "You — !"
Li Luoning's gaze tightened as well. He looked closely, and the blood stains on its claws confirmed it.
The same beast from the forest.
What he couldn't understand was how it had grown so huge in only a few days.
No time.
The giant Túlóu lunged.
Li Luoning snapped his fan forward again — harder this time — striking its right eye.
The creature recoiled with a shriek, head jerking back, one eye squeezed shut.
Li Luoning didn't waste the opening.
A long sword flashed into his hand. He surged forward through the air, blade aimed for the kill, voice cold as an oath.
"May Heaven's dark flames descend — and let the soul fall silent."