Book 2 Chapter 1

Disciple's Runaway Form

A white goddess descends from the sky and surrounds them,

Decisions made in isolation are like a quilt.

The earth was covered in a blanket of white.

It was early winter in Amishan, and the first snow was falling, but the streams in the valley were still rushing and flowing. Rough waterfalls continued to cascade down, unimpeded by the might of the Winter General. But the rocks that surrounded the valley were now covered in snow-white crystals, holding their breath as if they were about to hibernate.

The valley of winter, the valley of icy cold, is filled with a chill that is as cold as the blue-indigo color of its deepest abyss, sending a chill through anyone who approaches it. Even in summer weather, you can feel the chill deep inside your body, so what can you say in winter…….

A small ripple appeared on the surface of the quiet valley wall. At first, it was about the size of my thumb and forefinger curled in a circle, but then a slightly larger ripple formed around it, and then another, and another, and another, and another, and another, and another, and another, until a circle of ripples was drawn dozens of times. Soon, a ripple about half a sheet of paper in diameter had formed again. From the last and largest circle of ripples, a spiraling vortex formed in the center of the room, collapsing in on itself like a spinning top with the center of the room as its axis.

A turbulent whirlpool was about to form in the quiet winter valley wall. According to the laws of nature, there shouldn't be a whirlpool on this wall. The fact that it was there where it shouldn't be told me that this whirlpool was a man-made phenomenon, not a natural harmony.

The spirals of the whirlpool gradually became wilder and more powerful. The spiraling vortex, which seemed to suck in and crush everything, suddenly came to a halt, and with it, the spinning top created by the water's rotational force. The whirlpool gradually lost its power as its rotation and speed suddenly decreased. At this time, from the center of the dwindling and dissipating spiral, InYoung leaped out through the ring of ripples. He was a young man.

"Kek, kek, kek, kek, huh-huh, huh-huh!"

The young man who had fallen to the water's edge knelt on the ground, clawing at the earth with his hands, breathing raggedly. His breathing was ragged and irregular, as if he were in pain. His complexion was flushed, making him look even more exhausted. He breathed out irregular, painful gasps, as if he had been holding his breath for a long time. His face was pale, as if he had used up all the strength he had stored up in his body, and his limbs were limp and limp, like cotton wool that had eaten water.

The young man, breathing heavily, sprawled out on the white crystals that covered the ground like a quilt, his ragged breathing not yet subsiding. The young man who had emerged from the middle of the valley's maelstrom in the cold of winter was none other than the sole heir of the current Bi Liu Clan, and the only disciple of the current Bi Liu Clan lord. He was also their maid, cook, and housekeeper, and their only source of labor.

In this context, labor power is the ability to earn income in exchange for labor. Without him, the old master would not be able to drink, would have to cook his meals by hand, would have to fetch his own side dishes, and would have to earn his own money. Without the young man, the old master would have to hunt and gather, earn his own money, and make his own living. In that sense, the old master was very grateful to the young man.

Calming her ragged breathing, Bi Ryuyeon brushed the snowflakes from the sky against her body and stared blankly at the silver sky with white dots falling from it.

"Hmph, hmph, hmph… hmph, chit!"

Bi Ryuyeon let out a childlike whine under her breath as she asked what was wrong. She made a very unhappy face and continued to stare at the sky with a wistful look in her eyes.

'You mean I'm still too young to have the power of the Thunder God…… huh, huh.'

Muttering something unintelligible, Bi Ryuyeon looked up at the sky in protest. The sky, surrounded by silver, was beautiful. Lying on the cold earth, she closed her eyes without fear.

Thunder God! The god of lightning! The ultimate, final, and final power of the Thunder God. Yet he had yet to obtain it, let alone cast it. At this rate, he might not be able to progress any further, Bi Ryuyeon thought. He could understand it in his head. He just couldn't do it with his body. He knew the reasoning, he knew the method, but he couldn't do it.

Her current state was like that of a person who knows the way to go, but is unable to travel it because the road is too rough and difficult. Only when she has the strength to walk up that path, to control her body and mind, without succumbing to the roughness and difficulty, will she be able to attain the power of the Thunder God she longs for. The power of the final end…….

But he could not walk now. Was he discouraged because he hadn't gotten the ultimate thing he needed to get? When you're young, you'll do anything to turn your back on the world, and there are few better ways to do it than to bury yourself in the snow in the dead of winter with wet clothes. If you fall asleep, there's a good chance you'll wake up not knowing if you're alive or dead. That's why people who are stranded in the mountains in winter try to keep their wits about them and cheer each other on to avoid falling asleep. Unprotected sleep in the winter mountains is a sure sign of death.

He was practicing a very wise and useful method of committing suicide in comfort. He stretched out his four limbs into a large bed, lay down on a pure white quilt, drank in the cold air, and gazed longingly at the silver sky. He was practicing the perfect way to say goodbye to the world and hello to the afterlife. Had he lost his fear? No, he couldn't have. It's impossible for a fear that hasn't been there for a long time to suddenly appear and disappear again. One by one, snowflakes fell over his body, covering his body. Looking at the snowflakes, layer by layer, he felt cool and cozy rather than cold and chilly.

His body quietly slipped into the silvery blanket of snow. Like a man bent on death, her unexplained behavior had baffled even the heavens. Yet she hadn't stopped thinking. Fortunately, her mind was still intact. The new year is about to begin. The end of the present and the beginning of a new one. As the celestial fairy sprinkled snow to usher in winter, Bi Ryuyeon was deep in thought.

'It's a new year's fabric……. Soon it will be time to leave…….'

Muttering strange words that only she could understand, she buried herself in the snow. Thinking that she was cozy, she slept. A cool, cozy, sweet sleep……. The snow continued to fall, and finally her body disappeared from the ground. She buried herself in the snow. Like a child sleeping under a blanket of pure white cotton, her form was completely hidden in a quilt of pure white crystals. The snow continued to fall. It was the first snow.

'Argh! Bong, there's no… there's no… there's no… there's no… there's no…'

It was all so confusing and astonishing. The vicious master could only stare blankly at the sheet of paper, unable to anger himself at the absurdity and stupefaction of it all. The black smudges on the white page were probably letters.

It was the only thing his student had left behind. But while there was one thing left behind, there were many things taken, and that broke his heart even more. There was no lightning box. There were no bribes, no thunderbolts. There could not and should not be. A person who had just completed the rituals of succession, a person who hadn't even finished the rituals of transmission, had taken the Qin Sanzhi treasure box, a treasure among treasures, a treasure among treasures. To his knowledge, there was no other human being in the history of the sect who had done such an ignorant and unorthodox act. A lightning box was a box that was meant to contain thunder, or lightning. But more important than the value of the box itself was what it contained. A lightning box was a box for storing lightning bolts.

This is a jewel-red box, embroidered with silver thread, and containing a total of ten thunderbolts, five each on the right and left sides. Because of its unusual properties, it was a treasure that could be used to keep the thunderbolts from spoiling the sharp foresight of a thunderer and prevent the thunder spirit from losing its strength and becoming weak.

In fact, the bolts of lightning that Bi Ryuyeon has been using are, in short, crap, at best, practice, and at worst, knockoffs. This does not make it any less powerful than any other weapon. In fact, I'd argue it's more powerful. But the real thing is always going to give the real thing a run for its money, otherwise it wouldn't be called real.

When the next generation of disciples reaches a certain level of cultivation, through a ritual of succession, the master passes on the true mantra to the disciple and the master uses the false mantra. This is the exchange of the genuine for the imitation. The reason for this is that the master is already familiar with the original, while the student is not, and needs to gain sufficient practice with the original. Because of the incorrect intensity of the spirit projections, the disciple, upon reaching a certain level of cultivation, is forced to cultivate with the real thing. That was the tradition that was passed down in the Bi Liu Gate. But…….

'This, this guy. No, this guy… Heh, heh, heh, heh, heh, heh, heh.

Whether because he no longer had the energy to be angry, or because he had exhausted himself in his astonishment, the master's voice had fallen helplessly flat, and his laughter had a bitter, hollow ring to it. Moreover, he had never allowed bribery and silence, even though he had approved of it, and now his only disciple, the next generation of transmission, was sneaking in like a thieving cat in the middle of the night and running away with the master's treasures………………………………………………………. It would be rather strange if one's mind was still intact after such a thing, but right now, the master was so dumbfounded that he didn't even have the energy to be angry. For now, he could do nothing but stare blankly at the letter with the squiggly writing on the white background, or the object they called a scroll.