As the sky slowly darkened, night descended upon them, the full moon casting a silvery glow over the landscape. Time passed, and the moon rose high in the sky, shining brightly. Eventually, Xiaofen gently settled Xiaotian into bed after a leisurely hour of dinner and tutoring.
"Good night, Sister Xiaofen," Xiaotian whispered softly.
"Good night, Xiaotian," Xiaofen replied with a tender kiss on her forehead, gently patting her arm before she drifted off to sleep. Once she was sure her younger sister was soundly asleep, Xiaofen quietly tiptoed out of the room, then out of their courtyard and made her way to the Tranquility residence. Her steps quickened in the hushed night as she entered the tranquil abode. Unbeknownst to her, a pair of watchful eyes followed her every move.
"Miss, she has entered the Tranquility residence," a maid reported, relaying the information to Mingzhu.
"Again?" Mingzhu exclaimed in surprise, having been outside in the courtyard enjoying the evening breeze. "Miss, look!" the maid urged, drawing Mingzhu's attention. Drifting through the night sky on a sword, a man clothed in white and blue robes soared alongside a young maiden. Unmistakably Bingwen and Xiaofen, but the destination of their journey remained shrouded in mystery.
Clutching onto Bingwen's robes, Xiaofen held on tightly as they flew, her heart pounding with a mixture of fear and exhilaration. This was her first time flying on a sword, and the sensation of soaring through the air imbued her with a sense of awe. As they ascended higher, the world below appeared as a tiny mosaic of lights, beckoning them onwards. Bingwen, a vision of elegance and refinement, his robes billowing in the wind, soared across the horizon. After what felt like an eternity, a chilling wave of frigid air swept over them, the air turning sharp and piercing. They were approaching a frozen mountain range, its jagged peaks piercing the sky like icy teeth.
Xiaofen, clinging to Bingwen's back, shivered violently as the sword dipped down, landing atop a snow-covered peak shrouded in fog.
"We are here," Bingwen announced, turning to see Xiaofen's pale complexion and slightly frozen eyelids.
"Here?" she stammered, struggling to follow as Bingwen strode forward into the frozen wilderness.
The temperature plummeted further as they progressed, a bone-chilling -79 degrees that seemed to seep into their very marrow. Despite the icy assault, Bingwen remained unfazed, his complexion as radiant as ever.
They finally stopped before a cluster of rocks, arranged in a circular pattern with the largest one placed in the center. This central rock, though shrouded in the dense fog, seemed to glow with an inner light, its surface smooth and polished.
"Remove your outer robe and sit on it," Bingwen instructed, his voice calm and steady.
"What?!" Xiaofen stared at him, her eyes wide with shock and disbelief.
"You have a portion of cold attribute in your physical constitution," Bingwen explained, his gaze unwavering. "You need to cultivate your body to temper this cold attribute." He paused, then continued, "The best way to cultivate is to find the immense cold within you. The less the impediment, the better."
Xiaofen hesitated for a moment, then reluctantly removed the first layer of her robe. A wave of frigid air pierced her skin, seeping into her bones, sending shivers through her body. Her teeth chattered uncontrollably, her face paling with the cold. Slowly, she walked towards the largest rock and sat down, her entire being struggling against the onslaught of the icy wilderness. The cold was unrelenting. Within seven breaths, Xiaofen's vision blurred, her consciousness slipping in and out of a hazy darkness. After eleven breaths, her vision went black, and she fainted.
When she awoke, she found herself in Bingwen's chambers. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as she stared at Bingwen, who was engrossed in writing on a scroll.
The crown prince sat with an air of detached indifference as Chang-Yuchun recounted his encounter with Binggan. Suddenly, a cold, chilling laughter pierced the silence. It was a sound both low and rich, yet imbued with a menacing coldness.
"That incompetent fool," the voice sneered, causing Chang-Yuchun to jump in startled surprise.
"Proceed," the prince commanded, his voice a mere whisper.
Bingwen shifted, his gaze falling on Xiaofen. Despite her warm caramel complexion, he could sense a faint blush rising on her cheeks, betraying the fiery emotions burning within her.
"I will do better, I promise," Xiaofen said, Bingwen rose and walked towards the bathroom chamber, Xiaofen trailing close behind. The chamber was filled with a large pool of water, studded with glistening ice cubes. Bingwen glanced at Xiaofen, his eyes conveying a silent instruction. Understanding, Xiaofen stripped down, leaving only her inner robe. It was thin and transparent, revealing the graceful lines of her arms, shoulders, and collarbones. Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the frigid water, her body shivering at the sudden shock. She sat down, the water level rising to the midsection of her chest.
"Close your eyes and feel the cold from within," Bingwen instructed, his voice a low murmur. Xiaofen closed her eyes, focusing her attention inward. She felt something, a subtle sensation like a tiny snowflake, intricate and delicate. It expanded, morphing into a blinding snowball, then a swirling snow cloud, culminating in a raging snowstorm. Her energy pathways opened, a surge of spiritual energy flowing to her core, freezing the surroundings. Xiaofen felt a wave of dizziness as her power surged outward, the water around her gradually turning to ice, slowly solidifying into a crystalline prison. A surge of spiritual energy coursed through her, a wild, untamed torrent. Bingwen, his face etched with concern, stepped into the near-frozen pool. He gently placed his hands on her back, his touch radiating warmth. He guided her, his voice soft and reassuring, as she closed her pores, stemming the leak of power. It was a blessing, this raw, innate power, but without years of cultivation, her body struggled to contain it. Her physical constitution, unprepared for such potent energy, was fragile, a vessel unable to hold the force it contained.
Three hours of intense cultivation had taken its toll. Xiaofen leaned against Bingwen, her body trembling with exhaustion, her consciousness slipping away. He gently wrapped his arms around her. He channeled his spiritual energy, a warm, comforting stream, into her, aiding her in regaining her strength. The intimacy of their embrace, the soft, gentle touch of her skin against his, sent a jolt through him. Her body was so soft, smooth, and beautiful, a stark contrast to the raw power she wielded. The sweet scent of her long, wavy hair, a delicate blend of floral and spice, intoxicated him. He could feel her slender frame, her youthful curves, and a powerful instinct told him she would mature into a breathtaking beauty. A primal urge, raw and undeniable, surged through him, erasing his rational thoughts. He couldn't resist the pull any longer. He leaned down, his nose brushing against her delicate neck, inhaling the intoxicating scent that clung to her skin. A soft, muffled sound escaped her lips, a mixture of pain and something that felt disturbingly like a moan. It sent a jolt of heat through him, pushing him over the edge. He abruptly pulled away, biting his lip hard, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He lifted her gently from the pool, his hands trembling with the effort of controlling his desires. He carried her to the bedroom, placing her on the bed. As his inner maids moved to tend to Xiaofen, he stepped back, pulling himself away from the overwhelming pull of his desires. He needed to regain control, to calm the storm raging within him.