Chapter 1 The Ice Layer

The Sword Saint, holding Long Yuan, leaned against the pillar, his gaze fixed on Zheng Fan, who was sitting in front of him.

This wasn’t the first time the Sword Saint had seen Zheng Fan drawing, using charcoal to create clear lines.

It had been at Xuehai Pass, when the Marquis of Jing Nan had, on a whim, sat in the courtyard to draw an orange tree, and then asked the Sword Saint to critique it.

Gou Moli had praised the painting to the heavens at the time, piling on the flattery.

The Sword Saint had simply said that it lacked *shenyun* (spirit and charm).

Back then, the Sword Saint had still possessed a bit of aloofness.

But Marquis Zheng didn’t have any professional fastidiousness, and had asked directly,

“Which of your paintings do you want your descendants to remember you by?”

The Sword Saint hesitated, then pointed to the orange tree.

No one wants their descendants to have an abstract impression of their ancestors when they think of them; they’d rather their faces be more realistic.

And now,

what Zheng Fan was drawing on the easel

was a vast expanse of ice.

Around the corners of the picture, a group of savages knelt, prostrating themselves in worship.

In the center of the picture, beneath the ice, was the shadow of a person.

The whole picture gave off an extremely oppressive feeling.

Zheng Fan put down the charcoal pencil. This was a picture he had conjured up based on some information he’d obtained in the past, plus the information he’d gotten from Little Monk Liaofan the other day.

The details definitely had issues. What exactly did the person beneath the ice look like? Was he naked, or wearing clothes, or even armor?

Were there weapons nearby?

What color was his hair?

Were the faces of the savages those of the Xia people or not?

These things were all unknown.

Little Monk Liaofan had fallen asleep after speaking the other day. He had woken up in the middle, only to drink some porridge, then sit by the bed in a daze before falling back asleep.

Zheng Fan didn’t ask him for more details. The little monk’s mental state was terrible. He had to wait for the Blind Man to arrive to get the plan.

But one thing was certain:

the prophecy

was real.

Hu Bamei's prophecy seemed to mention the ice layer, the awakening, and the coming of the Demon King.

This was confirmed by what Liaofan and his master had seen.

Moreover, this thing had already opened its eyes, meaning it was alive. To put it another way, it had already... descended.

What did Little Monk Liaofan mean by "cracked"?

Did the ice crack because he took action, or was there another reason?

Could he leave the ice layer now and move freely?

Hu Bamei's prophecy had the number "seven" in it. Was he alone? Were others also waiting beneath the ice, and he was the first to rise?

"You’ve been staring at this painting for a long time," the Sword Saint said.

Zheng Fan nodded, stretched, and said,

"This painting is very important to me."

"I can see that."

"Lao Yu, do you think there are really Second Rank and so-called First Rank cultivators in this world?"

"Are we talking about officials?"

"You know what I mean."

"I don't know, but since there are Second Ranks, First Rank isn’t impossible. It’s just too difficult, so difficult that you can’t even see a path. Do you think the person in this painting is that kind of existence?"

"I won't mind speculating about it to the greatest extent."

"And then?"

"First find out, then determine the location."

"Many emperors in the past had similar thoughts to yours now. Anything that could threaten their imperial power, even if it was only a potential threat in the future, they would try to strangle in advance."

"Yes."

"Isn't that boring?" The Sword Saint shook his head. "If it were me, I’d hope my opponent was strong enough. No, I’d hope I could encounter an opponent like Tian Wujing every now and then."

"You’d find that kind of life fulfilling, but I really don't like it. I prefer to drink tea in the afternoon and listen to the women at home sing."

Zheng Fan reached out and gently stroked the painting,

saying,

"Fortunately, he's in the Snow Plain."

The Snow Plain is adjacent to my sphere of influence.

The Sword Saint nodded.

At this moment, the county magistrate came in to report, "Lord Marquis, the Prefect has arrived."

"Please."

"Let me put the painting away for you first," the Sword Saint said, stepping forward.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

...

"Aiya, Old Zheng, what’s wrong? I heard you ran into trouble in Shangchuan County?"

Xu Wenzu was still so fat. When he was busy with military and political affairs, he was bloated, but when everything was smooth, he was content and stout.

"Well, a former subordinate of mine had an accident. He was injured here and ended up being sold into a red tent to become a *xiang gong* (male prostitute)."

Marquis Zheng sighed as he spoke.

He had mobilized the nearby garrison in Shangchuan County. Such a big commotion couldn’t be hidden from anyone, so it was better to say it openly.

For the dignified Marquis of Jing Nan, something like this happening to someone in his household was outrageous. Wouldn't it be normal for the Marquis to get angry and mobilize troops to avenge a personal grudge?

As for someone impeaching him for being domineering, that was less than a scratch for the current Marquis of Jing Nan.

Of course, if anyone dared to impeach him for having ulterior motives, they would definitely be dealt with in the imperial court first. The reason was simple: the Marquis of Jing Nan really did have the strength to have ulterior motives.

"Is he alright?" Xu Wenzu asked.

"His mind hasn't recovered yet."

"I'm talking about his person," Xu Wenzu said, shifting his butt and winking.

"He hasn't had a chance to receive guests yet."

Perhaps this was a blessing in disguise.

"That's good, that's good."

"I say, brother, your focus is quite unique."

"Hey, I haven't told you about this. I used to only hear about Jin Feng Piaoyi (a type of male prostitute) and didn't care. I thought I, your brother, was a true Yan native and grew up on the edge of the desert.

"But who knew that after entering Yingdu, every time I attended a banquet, these kinds of *xiang gong* were brazenly accompanying the guests...

"Your brother was too embarrassed to refuse. When in Rome, do as the Romans do, right?"

"You've worked hard."

Zheng Fan actually sympathized with Xu Wenzu, because Xu Wenzu's figure and appearance were like Pigsy in human form. He was tired of eating ginseng fruit and liked to play with new things.

Of course, this was a misunderstanding.

Moreover, the great families of Jin treated male courtesans as "refined objects," that is, more valuable gifts than gold, silver, and concubines.

In Jin, having a foundation and raising a singing girl wasn’t anything special. You had to raise a refined man to show your status.

Valuable gifts should naturally be given to the person with the highest status.

"Damn it, brother, do you know what’s most infuriating?"

"What is it?"

"Hey, your brother has also opened his eyes this time. There are really men in this world who are more beautiful than women, and not a few of them!"

"Oh."

Marquis Zheng looked at Xu Wenzu and blinked.

"Your brother hasn't touched one yet."

"Okay."

"But sometimes, I get scared when I think about it. After being teased for so long, I really get tempted to try it."

"Hehe."

Marquis Zheng nodded.

They weren't feeling tense at all now.

Because Xu Wenzu had long been considered half a member of the Sixth Lord’s faction, now that Ji Chengjue was the emperor, he didn't have to worry about his career.

If he wanted to continue serving as a regional official for a few more years, he could. If he wanted to change positions, he could return to Yanjing. At the very least, a position as a *shangshu* (minister) would be reserved for him.

So, this meeting allowed them a lot of leisure to talk about some romantic matters.

"By the way, Old Zheng, you can recommend someone for the garrison general of Yupancheng, and I'll appoint him."

"I understand. I'll arrange it after I get back. Also, the *zhifu* (prefect) must be one of my people."

Xu Wenzu narrowed his eyes, smiled, and said, "Look at what you're saying. What am I reluctant to give up?"

"Brother, it's not that I'm greedy, nor that I want to circle Jin Dong and treat it as my backyard. It's just that I've already discussed it with His Majesty. After two years of recuperation, we'll be ready to make a move.

"The troops under my command, the various warlords, must be reorganized and resettled once more. If I don't secure the fence, I won't be able to deploy them."

"Okay, I understand, I understand."

"Have you eaten?" Zheng Fan asked.

"Not yet. I asked that county magistrate to prepare it."

"Okay, let's eat together."

"That's a given."

The county magistrate accompanied them for the meal, constantly pouring wine and talking beside them. Zheng Fan and Xu Wenzu ate quite comfortably.

After the meal, without even waiting for tea, Xu Wenzu smiled and said that he would go back first since there was nothing else to do. He could also see that Zheng Fan seemed to have something on his mind.

Zheng Fan sent Xu Wenzu out of the county office.

If nothing unexpected happened, the two of them would be the best partners in the next few years.

After returning, Zheng Fan went to check on Little Monk Liaofan's condition again.

The maid said that he had just eaten and was now asleep again. The doctor had also prescribed medicine for him to regulate his body.

Zheng Fan didn't bother him and walked towards his room. As he passed the garden, he saw a woman with a decent appearance approaching him with pastries.

"Lord Marquis, this is a local specialty of our Shangchuan County, sugared red sugar cake. The method is unique, and you can't eat it anywhere else. Would you like to try it?"

As she spoke, she actually took the initiative to pick up a piece and put it to Zheng Fan's mouth.

"Sigh."

Marquis Zheng sighed. This should be the concubine of that county magistrate.

"I'm not in the mood. Go back and tell your master to do my job well, and I'll appreciate his kindness."

"Yes, Lord Marquis."

Zheng Fan walked out of the garden and saw the Sword Saint sitting on the steps, basking in the afternoon sun. The Sword Saint had a smile on his lips.

"What are you smiling at?"

The Sword Saint shook his head and said, "So, as long as you become an official, it doesn't matter if you're a Yan person or a Jin person, you're all the same."

"You just realized that?"

"When are we going back?" the Sword Saint asked.

Because of Little Monk Liaofan's matter, they had delayed for a few more days.

"I think Liaofan's physical condition isn't very good and he can't withstand the journey, so I'll leave him here for now. Tomorrow, you and I will go back to Fengxincheng first."

"What about the matter here?"

"Let the Blind Man handle it."

"Okay," the Sword Saint agreed.

Because Si Niang had already set off for Shengle to investigate the matter of the human traffickers, Zheng Fan slept alone after dinner.

He didn't sleep very soundly. He woke up in less than two hours.

The north wind was blowing outside. Zheng Fan lay in bed, staring at the window across from the bed, lost in thought.

After lying on his side for a long time, suddenly, someone came to report,

"Lord Marquis, that little monk has woken up and is making a fuss to see you."

"I know."

Zheng Fan didn't delay. He got up, dressed, and walked out of his bedroom.

When he arrived at Liaofan's room, he saw Liaofan lying on the ground, his hands and feet constantly spasming.

"Lord Marquis, he woke up at night, and we prepared food for him. He just took two bites and asked where this was, then made a fuss to see you. Now, he's even turned into this..."

"Alright, all of you retreat. Without my order, no one is allowed to approach."

"Yes, Lord Marquis."

"Yes, Lord Marquis."

The maids retreated.

At this moment, the Sword Saint, wearing a white undergarment, walked over and stood by the door, squinting.

Liaofan raised his head, looked at Zheng Fan, and the pain on his face instantly disappeared, replaced by a look of joy,

He shouted,

"Lord Marquis, Lord Marquis, Lord Marquis!"

"You've regained consciousness?"

Zheng Fan moved closer.

Suddenly,

a fierce look flashed in Liaofan's pupils, and he shrieked,

"It's you, you made my master and me suffer so much! It's you, you're the one who did it!"

As he spoke, Liaofan suddenly pounced on Zheng Fan.

Zheng Fan didn't hesitate. He was, after all, a Fifth Rank expert. Even if this little monk suddenly went crazy, he would never be able to get close to him. With this kick, Liaofan was directly kicked away, stopping only after crashing into two coffee tables.

"Ugh..."

Then, Liaofan began to vomit violently.

However, this time, the vomit contained obvious black, fishy, and sticky substances.

Zheng Fan picked up a lit candle, covered his nose, and walked forward to inspect it. He stepped on it with the sole of his boot, and it made a "squelch" sound.

"Lao Yu, come and take a look. What is this?"

"I'm not going. It stinks."

The Sword Saint refused very directly.

He was only willing to come out and accompany him at night because Zheng Fan had promised to set off for home at dawn.

Moreover, there was no one else around Zheng Fan now. He was worried about the Marquis of Jing Nan, who was afraid of the dark.

Marquis Zheng was also open-minded enough to pick up the chopsticks that had fallen on the ground earlier, pick up the black stuff, and then turn around and bring it to the Sword Saint.

The Sword Saint held his breath,

looking at the black, sticky substance held by the chopsticks.

"Doesn't it look like seaweed?"

The Sword Saint seemed to recognize it. He looked at it carefully for a few times, and then said,

"It's black weed."

"Oh, that's a very descriptive name."

It's black, looks like seaweed, so it's called black weed.

"It grows on the Snow Plains, but the herders on the Snow Plains know that you can't eat it unless it's absolutely necessary. It's just like *guanyintun* (edible clay).

"However, eating this won't cause bloating, but it can confuse people's minds. It doesn't matter if livestock eat it, but if people eat it, their brains are prone to problems."

Zheng Fan pointed to Little Monk Liaofan, who had been kicked over there,

"So, his brain is like this now because he ate too much of this black weed before?"

"That should be the reason. Maybe the medicine the doctor prescribed for the past two days, plus your kick just now, had some effect."

At this moment,

Little Monk Liaofan sat up.

He looked at Zheng Fan and the Sword Saint standing at the door again with some confusion.

Then,

he reached out and pointed at Zheng Fan,

weakly shouting,

"Lord Marquis... hurry up and save my master... hurry up and save my master..."

Marquis Zheng asked in surprise,

"Your master is still alive?"

"..." Little Monk Liaofan.

A mouthful of repressed air gathered in the little monk's throat, unable to come up, and his whole body rolled his eyes, almost fainting.

The Sword Saint took action, his figure instantly arriving beside Liaofan, his fingertip tapping on Liaofan's chest and swiping upwards.

"Huff..."

Liaofan suddenly took a long breath, and then began to gasp for air.

Finally,

his gaze fell on Marquis Zheng, who was standing in front of him.

"Lord Marquis, my master stayed there to save me. I ran out to find Lord Marquis, to find Lord Marquis, to save my master, to save my master."

"Tell me carefully, did you and your master discover anything in the far north?"

"The thing that Lord Marquis asked us to find, no, that person, we found him. He's alive, he's alive."

"Slow down, what's the specific situation of that person? What does he look like?"

"Just... human-like."

Marquis Zheng gritted his teeth,

"Is he naked?"

"No, he's wearing armor, wearing armor, black armor, and he's holding a knife, his eyes are so scary, so scary..."

"Did he leave your master behind?"

"No, he didn't move. The ice layer cracked open by itself, and then... then..."

Little Monk Liaofan covered his head,

"My head is so messed up, so messed up..."

"Don't worry, think slowly..."

"Master and I finally climbed out, and then, someone asked us, asked us why we were here, why we were here... no, it seems like they asked us before, before, before falling down and climbing out,

"No, no, it was before my master and I touched the ice layer, someone asked..."

Obviously, Liaofan's memory hadn't fully recovered yet. When he narrated, the timelines were contradictory.

"Woman... there's a woman."

Liaofan suddenly looked at Zheng Fan with certainty.

"What kind of woman?" Zheng Fan immediately asked.

"Master said, said she was very beautiful, yes, Master said it, said it before."

"And then?"

"The woman asked Master, asked Master, why we were here, who sent us here, yes, she asked, she asked."

"What did your master answer?" Zheng Fan could only ask along with his thoughts.

"Master said that he was a guest of Marquis Pingxi and that he would have a good life in the temple with him in the future."

"..." Zheng Fan.

"Hehe," even the Sword Saint couldn't help but laugh.

"And then?" Zheng Fan could only continue asking.

"Then... then Master, woman, woman, Master, then..."

Monk Liaofan began to hold his head again,

"Then, the eyes opened, the ice layer cracked, Master and I, climbed, climbed..."

As Little Monk Liaofan spoke, he fell asleep. It wasn't because he couldn't breathe, but because he was exhausted.

Although he had been eating and sleeping these past two days, in reality, his mind had been colliding intensely. The consumption of his mind was the most tormenting.

"I understand some of it," Zheng Fan said.

"You can understand this?" The Sword Saint was a little curious.

Zheng Fan nodded,

and said,

"They didn't find the person under the ice themselves,

"but,

"they were captured and sent to the ice as...

"sacrifices."