In the extreme cold torment, Feng Rugu dreamed of an event from his youth.

Ten years ago, when he was traveling with little Hongchen to a small town at the foot of Wuji Mountain, he received a letter from Fengling.

The letter had three pages. The first page was in the handwriting of his master, Lord Xiaoyao, and the tone was quite businesslike: Boning, in two days, the Eastern Emperor Sacrificial Ceremony will begin at Mount Qiemo, and you need to lead and preside over it. Everything has been arranged, return quickly.

The next page was still in the same handwriting, but the tone changed: Rugu, are you having fun?

Feng Rugu knew that although his master, the Daoist Lord Xiaoyao, was one who enjoyed roaming the world, he was perceptive enough. But he couldn't figure out how his master saw through that he and Senior Brother Chang had swapped identities.

When he left the mountain that year, his master was so bothered by his wife that he couldn't even come down the mountain. In the end, he didn't even see him off, so how would he know that it was him who went down the mountain, not Senior Brother Chang?

Full of questions, Feng Rugu turned to the third page of the letter.

"Nonsense. Would you be so honest as to go into closed-door cultivation for more than four years?"

Feng Rugu laughed out loud.

You Hongchen, who was practicing calligraphy on the side, raised his head, his eyes moist and bright as he looked at him: "Adoptive father, is there something joyful?"

Feng Rugu sat down beside him, put his arm around his shoulders, and said with a smile, "Of course there's good news. We can go home."

He had long wanted to take You Hongchen back to Fengling, walk the bright path, and give him a home, so that he wouldn't have to accompany him wandering around without a fixed abode. Unfortunately, the five-year travel period had not yet passed, and Feng Rugu dared not run back easily, lest he upset his master's wife again.

Now that the five-year period was coming to an end, and his master had guessed that they, the senior and junior brothers, had exchanged identities, as long as he could preside over the Eastern Emperor Sacrificial Ceremony well, and his master put in a few good words for him, his master's wife would probably not hold such a grudge.

The problem was that Senior Brother Boning was in closed-door cultivation. After five years, his cultivation had probably reached a critical moment. If he was forced to come out of seclusion at this time, it would be unfavorable. His master had also considered this point, so he asked him, who had his senior brother's face, to go back and temporarily act as a stand-in.

Time was tight, and he had no time to go back to Fengling to settle You Hongchen. He was even more afraid that without him by his side to keep watch, those mischievous kids from Fengling would tease his little Hongchen for fun.

Anyway, this child had a well-behaved and quiet temperament and never ran around. The Eastern Emperor Sacrificial Ceremony would take five days at most to finish. Feng Rugu simply settled little Hongchen in the inn, bought new clothes for him to wear when taking him up to Fengling, paid the full room fee, and left enough silver money for him to spend lavishly for a month, before he ran and jumped all the way to Mount Qiemo.

He arrived half an hour later than the agreed time.

When he arrived at the foot of Mount Qiemo, Feng Rugu saw Han Jing.

As the head disciple of Danyang Peak, like the other Danyang Peak disciples, Han Jing was dressed in a robe of rouge red. The breeze gently blew, and the white jade belt at his waist fluttered slowly.

With his back to him, he was carefully observing a pale little flower blooming on the cliff face, his fingertips reaching for a small butterfly resting on the delicate stamen.

Feng Rugu coughed and greeted in imitation of his senior brother's tone, "Brother Han."

Hearing the voice, Han Jing, who had just caught the small butterfly's wings and was sniffing the faint floral fragrance on the wings, turned around.

Han Jing's appearance was cold and aloof, with phoenix eyes slightly upturned at the corners, eyes like black ink, and eyebrows like snow. His bearing was like that of a peerless sword, but tempered by his gentle temperament, it gave him the visage of an affable gentleman.

He released the butterfly's wings and looked at Feng Rugu, saying softly, "Boning, you're here."

But immediately, his brows furrowed slightly.

"You're not Boning." Han Jing walked up to him, but due to his nature, even his questioning voice sounded overly refined, "...Who are you?"

He walked up, his fingertips activating a bit of vermilion spiritual power, tapping Feng Rugu's forehead. The skin that belonged to Chang Boning gradually faded away, revealing a face that was noble and unrestrained.

"...Rugu?"

Seeing that his disguise was exposed before he even went up the mountain, Feng Rugu simply hugged him and shamelessly acted like a spoiled child, "Senior Brother Han, long time no see, did you miss me?"

Han Jing was helpless against his antics. He patted the back of his head and asked, "Wasn't it said that Boning, Sanchai and I were to look after this batch of disciples at Mount Qiemo? Why are you here?"

Feng Rugu found it too troublesome to explain, and was sure that Han Jing had a good temper, so he simply changed the subject, "Junior Brother Jing is also here? Where is he?!"

How could Han Jing not see through his muddle-headed thoughts? Thinking back to the rumors of "Feng Rugu going into closed-door cultivation, Chang Boning going out to travel" over the past five years, how could he not understand the crux of the matter? He smiled helplessly and led him up the mountain.

On the way up the mountain with him, Feng Rugu touched his forehead, "Senior Brother Han, how do you know Senior Brother's face-changing technique?"

Han Jing replied gently, "That year, my master and your master went out to subdue demons, and your senior brother and I went along. He taught me the Seven Flowers Seal, and I taught him the face-changing technique..."

As he said this, he thought of something and turned to Feng Rugu, "Do you want me to change you back?"

Since he had already been exposed, Feng Rugu was too lazy to change back. Besides, he had always liked his own face the most, so he waved his hand, "No need, this is fine."

As they spoke, they had already arrived at the gathering place of the disciples from various sects.

Seeing that it was not Chang Boning who Han Jing brought, but Feng Rugu, who was known in the cultivation world for his madness and arrogance, the young disciples from various sects immediately showed dissatisfaction and started discussing.

Han Jing took a step forward, shielding him, blocking the sunlight and isolating him from everyone's discussions.

Feng Rugu didn't care about this. Since his identity had been exposed, he simply summoned the true form of the Tangdi sword that was properly inserted at his waist, carried the pair of swords on his back, and sauntered over to Jing Sanchai's side, bumping his shoulder against Jing Sanchai, who was sitting on a rock and lowering his head to wipe the tip of his long spear.

Jing Sanchai turned his head and, seeing that it was Feng Rugu, his eyes widened, "Why is it you?"

Feng Rugu lay on his shoulder and stretched out his hands and feet comfortably, "Junior Brother Jing, your dear senior brother is here, aren't you happy?"

Jing Sanchai's face was expressionless, "Stay away from me, be careful I accidentally chop off half your head."

"If you hit me, my master will hit your master." Feng Rugu fearlessly pillowed his head on Jing Sanchai's thigh, "You weigh your options."

Jing Sanchai: "Your skin has certainly thickened. I suppose your birth chart is deficient, which would explain your ill-suited name. You should find a way to compensate for that deficiency."

Feng Rugu: "Brother Jing, what good name do you have? Tell your elder brother and let me hear it."

Jing Sanchai: "Let's call you Feng Jingjing."

Feng Rugu laughed loudly: "Get out of here."

The feelings between the three sects had always been deep, especially between Jing Sanchai and Feng Rugu. Han Jing, who was slightly older, had a gentle and quiet personality and didn't like to be noisy. He couldn't join in the conversation, so he just held his sword and smiled at them, occasionally spacing out for a moment or two, as if thinking of someone.

Feng Rugu was still lying on Jing Sanchai's thigh, swinging the enforcer's token hanging from his fingertips.

Seeing Jing Sanchai carefully wiping and maintaining the spear, he curiously asked, "Didn't your master say that with your talent, you're more suited for the short spear? Why are you still practicing long spear?"

Jing Sanchai spat, "Why should I listen to him? I want to practice the long one."

Feng Rugu laughed, "This isn't one of those things where longer is always better."

Jing Sanchai was furious, jumped up, and lunged at Feng Rugu with the long spear, chasing him all over the mountain. "You still say longer isn't better? Is it or not?"

Han Jing, who was listening on the side, blushed slightly, pretending not to understand, and persuaded them, "You two should make less trouble..."

At that time, the morning sun had just risen above the forest, and looking up, one could see the vast, leisurely returning clouds.

After the two had enough fun, they each returned to their positions. Feng Rugu leaned against a rock, thinking of You Hongchen whom he had left at the inn, wondering if he had eaten steamed buns or bean curd for breakfast this morning.

However, in the next moment, the situation changed dramatically.

A gust of bloody wind swept over the mountain ridge, rattling a clump of bamboo, and as the cold hit, a surge of magic rose from the ground, causing the leaves on the ground to howl and flow upward, as if the world had been completely turned upside down.

Feng Rugu reacted extremely quickly, holding "Yesterday" in his left hand, inserting the sword into the ground to stabilize himself against the wind, and horizontally grasping "Today" in his right hand, quickly casting a light blue "All Evils Prohibited" spell. The sword energy and spiritual energy floated like cyan smoke, but it was only in time to protect the group of disciples closest to him—

A black light gate opened out of nowhere under their feet, and an evil cold air invaded their bodies.

With Feng Rugu's cultivation, it was not difficult for him to escape alone, but the dozens of disciples he was protecting would be severely injured by the twisting magic and their lives would be in danger.

He was the Enforcer representing Fengling, and he could not take a single step back.

Feng Rugu turned his head and found that Jing Sanchai and Han Jing also had no intention of leaving.

Especially Han Jing, who was the tallest, standing tall and straight. The chaotic winds from all directions battered his body, blowing his red robe backward, but his face was exceptionally firm, and the sight of him was reassuring.

However, after the three of them held on for a long time, they were finally dragged into the unfathomable abyss along with the disciples of the various sects under an irresistible suction force.

— The cold air hit the body, cutting like a knife.

Ten years ago, how could Feng Rugu have known what it was like to have the north wind as hard as iron, and to have one's heart and guts pierced by the cold?

He woke up from the illusion, curled up into a ball, trying his best to avoid the gnawing bone pain, and moaned in a hoarse voice, "Mmm..."

...

Although Jianchuan had done a lot of protection work, requiring disciples to tie a rope around their waists every time they went to the river to fetch water for alchemy and forging, there were still inevitably disciples who fell into the water every year. Therefore, Jianchuan had warm pavilions ready all year round to treat those who fell into the water in time.

Ruyi had removed all the wet clothes from Feng Rugu's body, changed him into dry inner clothes, and covered him with a warm quilt, but saw him rolling and muttering on the bed, suffering in pain. He felt as if his heart was soaked with ice water, causing bursts of numbness and pain.

Sang Luojiu lifted the quilt a little and grasped his ankle that had turned pale green. Noticing that the meridians in Feng Rugu's body were sluggish and there was no spiritual power flowing, he was not very surprised, "Master overdrew his spiritual power just now, and his spiritual body is probably severely damaged by the deep water and cannot recover on its own..."

Before he could finish, he heard Ruyi say in a low voice, "...Everyone, get out."

Luo Fuchun interjected, "I won't! I want to stay with Master!"

Ruyi didn't bother to say more. With a fierce flick of his sleeve, the powerful spiritual pressure directly forced Luo Fuchun and the others out of the warm pavilion.

The door slammed shut.

The warm source holding his feet disappeared, and Feng Rugu immediately retracted his ankles into the quilt, "Cold... Senior Brother Han..."

Ruyi held his frozen feet and gently rubbed them in his palms, injecting heat, and emphasized, "I am Ruyi."

...Who was his "Senior Brother Han"?

But he had no time to think about this question.

Feng Rugu's whole body was cold, really chilled to the bone. Just lying on the warm bed and being warmed was of no use.

Seeing that the situation was urgent and could not be allowed to deteriorate further, Ruyi hesitated for a while, took off the monk's robe he had just put on, lifted the quilt, and crawled in.

Feng Rugu's body was like a piece of ice, piercing cold when first embraced, but after holding him for a while, Ruyi felt that his bones were soft and comfortable to hold in his arms.

Ruyi avoided his gaze, not looking at his face, and tried to slowly transfer his body heat to Feng Rugu, dispelling distracting thoughts.

Feeling the heat source at close range, Feng Rugu closed his eyes and instinctively acted coquettishly, "Senior Brother... Senior Brother Chang, hug..."

At this moment, hearing him mention his adoptive father so intimately, Ruyi's heart suddenly turned sour for some reason, and then it jumped and swelled, making his heart boil with fire. For a moment, he forgot himself and actually turned over to press on top of Feng Rugu, one arm pressed beside Feng Rugu's ear, and raised his voice a little, "...Look clearly, it's this poor monk Ruyi."

Feng Rugu was awakened by this shock, squinted his eyes, stared at the person in front of him for a moment, and murmured, "Little Hongchen..."

Before Ruyi could react, his bare arms hugged his neck, and his cheeks rubbed against Ruyi's chest like a cat.

For a moment, Ruyi's body was even more rigid than the frozen Feng Rugu.

Who would have thought that after recognizing him, Feng Rugu actually put his hand on his chest and pushed him out, saying in a low voice, "...Don't hug me, your hands will get cold."