068 Trapped Together with Beauty

Inside the Buddha grotto.

The once gentle spring, with its flourishing grasses and trees, and rare, jeweled blossoms carpeting the ground, was now entirely sealed beneath frost and ice.

Frost clung to the faces of the Buddha statues, lending them an indescribably eerie aspect.

Three streaks of escaping light shot through a fissure in the earth, making their way directly to the ninth grotto.

Here, a mighty river of void flowed through the air, blocking their path.

This river was the only thing in the entire Frozen Domain untouched by the icy tides!

The three alighted at its bank.

Ye Xue immediately produced her fishing rod artifact, casting the line into the flow.

The current, filled with razor-sharp fragments of space, surged past with chaotic force.

The fishing line quivered, unable to find an anchor in the outside world.

The cold grew ever more intense.

The protective auras around the three flickered on the verge of collapse.

Pang Yue activated his nameless eye technique, a spiritual light flashing in his gaze as he stared at the void river. Secretly, he used the Innate Infinity Tablet to deduce its patterns.

“It’s still not working…”

Suddenly, Ye Xue’s face turned pale, her spiritual power nearly depleted, and despair crept across her features.

Luo Qingyuan, unable to help herself, gave a bitter smile. “To think this is where I’ll fall in this life—truly, fate is inescapable!”

She glanced at Pang Yue, who remained calm and unruffled, and couldn’t help but ask, “Brother, what are you still looking at?”

Pang Yue replied coolly, “Eighteen years.”

“What do you mean, eighteen years?” Ye Xue paused, then seemed to understand. “Are you saying that in eighteen years, the void river will calm? How did you calculate that?”

When she tried to anchor to the outside world just now, she’d sensed a certain rhythm in the river’s changes!

If they could wait until it calmed, she’d have an eighty percent chance of anchoring to the outer void.

But she shook her head in frustration. “But we can’t even hold on for another two hours, much less eighteen years…”

“Who says we can’t?” Pang Yue smiled, turning to produce a bronze ritual vessel with a wave of his hand.

“Ladies, after you.”

...

Within the Mountain and River Vessel.

A thousand-acre field of spiritual crops lay before them.

Neat paths crisscrossed the land, spiritual springs gurgled, and a small river split the vast field in two. Dense veils of light and mist shrouded the entire area.

Above, a clear sky blazed with a great sun, suspended high and radiating warmth.

Within the sun, countless runes flickered and changed, fusing and splitting in endless cycles, creating a sense of ancient, unchanging eternity.

In the field, a new crop of Primordial Yang Rice had just sprouted, lush and green, bringing peace to the heart.

The Mountain and River Vessel was a third-tier treasure, a world unto itself.

Within its bounds, the outside chill was utterly severed, and the three felt a weight lift from their shoulders, breathing out in relief.

“Xu… I never imagined you possessed such a treasure!” Luo Qingyuan’s exquisite face bloomed with the joy of deliverance, her beautiful eyes sparkling as she looked around, her tone suddenly warmer.

Ye Xue also bowed to Pang Yue, her face solemn. “Thank you, Brother. From this day forward, I owe you a debt.”

“I happen to have a supreme artifact here. Ladies, have a look!” Luo Qingyuan said, and with a sweep of her sleeve, released a magnificent palace. Below it, acres of snowy clouds formed, supporting the building as it floated in midair.

The palace gleamed with gold and jade, red pillars and white steps, intricate galleries and grand columns reaching the sky, splendid and stately.

Inside, every furnishing was exquisitely crafted and luxurious.

The palace had three courtyards, each with six spacious and comfortable rooms.

Luo Qingyuan’s background as a scion of one of the six great Jindan families of the Demon Sigil Sect was clear in her every detail; her daily standard far outshone Pang Yue and Ye Xue.

Each chose a room to rest and recover.

...

Inside his room, Pang Yue set up wards to seal the space, then returned to his jade couch and sat in quiet meditation.

After the time it takes to drink two cups of tea, he exhaled a breath of cold air. His power circulated freely, purging all traces of the icy tide’s effects.

“Eighteen years… I should take the chance to raise my cultivation.”

With his mind and body united, he produced an Ice Soul Snow Lotus and swallowed it in a few bites, then began refining it.

Although he had obtained the “Ten Directions Frost Demon Path,” he did not intend to switch to it, but only to use it as support in cultivating divine abilities.

His true pursuit remained the “Flame Demon True Record,” and the subsequent “Chaos Profound Demon Sigil Canon.”

The Ice Soul Snow Lotus contained supremely pure spiritual energy; refining one saved a cultivator three years of hardship.

Now, Pang Yue channeled the overbearing “Flame Demon True Record,” swiftly converting the lotus’s essence into his power.

His cultivation began to rise at an unprecedented pace.

...

Time slipped quietly by. Two months passed.

One day—

A gentle, melodious voice sounded outside the door.

“Brother, would you lift the wards and allow Qingyuan to come in for a chat?”

Pang Yue woke from meditation.

A sweep of his senses told him who it was.

With a wave of his sleeve, he dispelled the ward. “Senior sister, please come in.”

The door opened, and a stunningly beautiful young woman glided in on delicate steps.

Luo Qingyuan had clearly dressed with care today.

Her hair was piled in a cloud-like chignon, her brow encircled by a violet diadem, a drop of blood-red jade at her forehead. Her beauty could shame fish and birds, her skin gleamed white and flawless, and her chest rose with a pair of full, proud peaks.

Her waist was shapely, her long legs straight and perfectly proportioned, her curves enchanting.

She wore a sumptuous gown, noble and graceful, yet with an intoxicating hint of boudoir charm.

Her figure was mature to perfection, blending the allure of a woman with the firmness of a maiden—like ripe fruit steeped in honey, tempting in every way.

“Congratulations, brother. Your cultivation has advanced again—it seems you’ve gained much,” Luo Qingyuan said with a soft smile, her voice as sweet as an oriole’s song.

Pang Yue politely invited her to sit. “Senior sister, your own wounds are fully healed—that too is worthy of celebration.”

Luo Qingyuan’s lovely eyes swept up and down Pang Yue. “We of the demonic path are not ascetics like the orthodox sects. The thought of being trapped here for eighteen years makes me restless. Sitting idly, I nearly fell into madness.”

“Would you help me dispel a little of this gloom?”

Faced with her bold, direct gaze, Pang Yue gave a faint smile. “How would you like me to do that, senior sister?”

A brilliant, watery light shone in Luo Qingyuan’s almond-shaped eyes. Her voice turned coy. “I’ve heard that on your island, there is a cauldron maiden who, though you draw from her daily, remains fresh and charming, even growing in power… Would you show Qingyuan this secret art?”

Pang Yue laughed aloud.

“Senior sister, your intentions seem rather different from your words. If you have something to say, why not speak plainly?”

A blush colored Luo Qingyuan’s fair cheeks as she shot him a half-wicked, half-playful glare. “Are you always so dense?”

“Hurry and speak, or I’ll return to my cultivation,” Pang Yue replied, unmoved.

“You really are impossible!” Luo Qingyuan rolled her eyes, then grew serious. “I came to propose a trade, brother.”

Pang Yue’s heart stirred; he raised an eyebrow. “Have you come for my fourth-tier treasure?”