North winds, laden with ice particles, lashed at her cheeks like blades. Shen Qingyao pulled her fox-fur cloak tighter; the fur collar was already matted with ice, and each breath she drew turned into a puff of white mist that condensed into tiny crystals in the biting air, hanging for a moment before being swept away by the gale. Frost had gathered on her eyelashes, glinting coldly under the moonlight like two tiny, translucent combs refracting shards of light.
The yellowing manuscript in her hands rustled violently in the wind. The handwriting left by her father had been blurred by time, the ink bleeding across the pages until some parts were nearly illegible, yet the instructions remained clear: "In the furthest North, use Black Ice as the catalyst; the Cold Abyss hides the secret, and the Ice Soul Mystic Pearl shall suppress the evil." She looked up at the sky, shrouded in leaden clouds so thick they felt as if they might collapse at any moment.
The edges of the clouds glowed with an eerie purple hue, as if stained by blood or harborers of some dark omen. Suddenly, the snowfield beneath her feet emitted a sharp "crack," and a fissure spread across the surface before her eyes. From the crack seeped a ghostly blue chill that shot straight up her spine, making her teeth chatter uncontrollably and her entire body tremble, causing the manuscript in her hands to flutter.
Chapter 93