Everything requires resources, especially research into serious conditions such as the "Frozen Mind." Already burdened by a mountain of debt, Wu Jian found herself with no choice but to borrow even more money, sinking deeper into financial ruin. Fortunately, the money she borrowed from the Infinite Dao Sect came with no interest rate, offering a sliver of relief amid her mounting troubles.
After Wu Jian explained her condition to the leader of the Crystal Expanse branch of the sect, she was granted access to the sect's state-of-the-art facilities and resources. This generous support allowed her to conduct her research with a degree of peace she hadn't known in ages. Furthermore, the sect elevated her access privileges, permitting her to read rare books and examine advanced research materials related to her condition. The leader himself even suggested inviting specialists from the Golden Immortal World to help her find a solution.
However, Wu Jian resolutely refused the suggestion. Inviting immortals from the Golden Immortal World would indeed be beneficial, but it came with an astronomical cost. She calculated that the price of such assistance would be so high that she might be unable to repay it even if she worked for trillions of years. Already drowning in debt, she resolved to first exhaust every possible solution on her own before resorting to external help. Only if she truly failed would she consider taking such a drastic step.
"After all," she thought, "even though time means little to immortals, I would still prefer not to work for the sect for quadrillions of years without compensation."
Although the Infinite Dao Sect had been extraordinarily helpful, she understood that their aid wasn't born of pure charity. Everything they provided came at a cost—one measured not in currency, but in labor and allegiance. Their assistance was built upon her credit, and she couldn't afford to be naive about it.
"Inviting a few immortals would cost me trillions of years of free service to the sect! What kind of help is that?" she muttered, her frustration bubbling to the surface. She saw through their intentions clearly. "They know I'm in trouble and want to exploit me while I'm vulnerable!"
The value of trillions of years of service far outweighed the expense of bringing in a few immortals to assist her for a mere few million years. Yet, even with this bitter realization, Wu Jian harbored no regrets about joining the sect. Without their support, she would have failed long ago. For instance, the pale golden pill they had provided her was a critical turning point. It had helped her reach the realm of true immortality, saving her life at a moment when she might otherwise have been torn apart and destroyed.
But then, as she pondered her predicament, a sudden thought struck her.
"Wait… maybe!" Her eyes lit up with the spark of an idea.
Could that pale golden pill have had a connection to her current condition? "That pill froze my body… Could it be that it also contributed to my mind being frozen?" The possibility seemed increasingly plausible the more she thought about it.
This idea had not occurred to her earlier because her focus up until now had been on creating her incarnation. But now that she had regained a source of willpower, she could finally dedicate her thoughts to unraveling this mystery.
"I need to find out exactly what was in that pale golden pill," she decided firmly. The pill's freezing properties, which had preserved her body, combined with her cold-element complete law, might have amplified each other, unintentionally causing her mind to freeze.
As she continued to analyze this possibility, another, more troubling thought entered her mind. "Did the sect intentionally give me that pill knowing it would cause trouble later on?"
The idea gnawed at her. It wasn't beyond the realm of possibility that the sect had deliberately created this situation to ensure her dependence on them. By doing so, they could secure her loyalty and labor for countless years to come.
"There's no such thing as a free lunch in this world," she sighed, her frustration mingled with a sense of resignation. While she couldn't deny that the Infinite Dao Sect's help had been instrumental in her reaching true immortality, she couldn't shake the suspicion that their assistance might have come with strings attached—strings that could entangle her for eons.
"I should summon the Will of the Heavens," Wu Jian thought resolutely. In her understanding, karma was a double-edged sword—it worked both ways. As a member of the Infinite Dao Sect, any betrayal on her part would surely invoke karmic retaliation, especially given the unbreakable oath she had taken upon joining. But this principle also applied to the sect itself. As one of their esteemed Great Elders, the sect could not trick or exploit her without facing consequences from the same karmic forces.
Normally, the Will of the Heavens performed its duties naturally, without anyone needing to interfere. However, Wu Jian's intention in summoning it wasn't to seek justice or retribution. She simply wanted confirmation: had the sect faced any karmic retaliation for their actions against her?
Yet, as soon as the thought crystallized in her mind, she hesitated.
"If the sect truly orchestrated this, it's better for me to play dumb," she reasoned. If they suspected that she had uncovered their plans, their attitude toward her could shift dramatically—and not for the better. For now, she decided it was wiser to tread carefully.
"I should let this matter rest until I've resolved my Frozen Mind issue," she concluded. Sometimes, ignorance wasn't just bliss—it was survival. Even if she had a strong hunch about the sect's intentions, confronting them prematurely might invite unnecessary hostility. In the face of the Infinite Dao Sect's immense power, she preferred to maintain the delicate balance of their current relationship.
With her suspicions set aside for the time being, Wu Jian refocused on her immediate task. "Alright, let's get back to the books," she murmured, turning her attention to the daunting collection of knowledge provided by the sect.
...
The process of reading was anything but quick. Thousands of years passed as she poured over the materials. The sheer volume was staggering: more than a thousand titles, each containing tens of millions of pages. The texts were not only voluminous but also profoundly complex, requiring extraordinary intelligence and insight to decipher.
If her mind hadn't been frozen, she could have completed and comprehended the texts much faster. But with her mental faculties impaired, relying on her external mind made the process arduous and painstakingly slow. Still, she persevered.
Despite being called "books," these texts were far from ordinary. The words within them weren't fixed or concrete. Different readers would see entirely different texts, shapes, or even abstract concepts. For mortals, these books would appear as meaningless scribbles, their depth and meaning utterly beyond comprehension. For highly intelligent scholars, however, the books offered glimpses of hidden truths—clues that could take years, decades, or even centuries to decode.
As one unraveled the layers of these texts, the knowledge within would gradually reveal itself. The process was deeply tied to the reader's existing knowledge base; the more one already understood, the easier it became to extract and interpret the wisdom contained within the books.
For ordinary mortals, the task was impossible. Their limited knowledge made even the simplest word an enigma. But Wu Jian was no ordinary scholar. Her vast reservoir of knowledge ensured that she could decipher the texts, albeit slowly. The issue wasn't her intellectual capacity—it was her limited willpower due to her frozen mind.
After thousands of years of effort, she finally finished reading all the materials provided to her. When she closed the last "book," she let out a long, weary sigh.
Her disappointment was palpable. Although she had learned a great deal about the cold element and related laws, the information she sought most—anything about the pale golden pill—was absent. She was now almost certain of one thing: a complete cold-element law alone should not have been enough to freeze her mind.
"The pill must have played a role," she thought grimly. Despite her efforts, the books provided no insight into the pill's composition or its effects.
"Are they intentionally hiding it from me?" Wu Jian wondered, her thoughts spiraling into suspicion. She could confront the sect directly and request access to knowledge about the pill, but she knew the outcome all too well: they wouldn't hand it over for free. Instead, they would likely demand additional work from her—perhaps even billions of years' worth—just for access to a single book or document.
"I feel like I'm sinking deeper and deeper into debt!" she thought bitterly, the weight of her predicament bearing down on her. It was now painfully clear to her how these so-called "decentralized" sects had managed to grow so vast and powerful. The truth was simple: they milked outsiders like her, exploiting their desperation and locking them into cycles of servitude.
But what choice did she have? With her mind frozen, she was powerless to chart her own course. Her condition left her reliant on the sect, even as she resented it. "I just have to swallow it and stay quiet," she concluded grimly. "If I start making noise, they'll definitely shut me down."
Resigned to her fate, Wu Jian sighed deeply. Though the prospect of working for trillions of years to repay her debt was daunting, she reminded herself that at least she had achieved true immortality. "That's all that matters," she thought, clinging to this small consolation as her last resistance melted away.
With no other options, she contacted the Crystal Expanse branch of the sect and formally requested assistance from specialists.
...
Not long after, nine immortals—each a True Immortal with extensive experience—arrived to examine her condition. The leader of the group, a kindly old man with a long silver beard and an air of authority, took the lead in diagnosing her.
"This is a common side effect of the Pale Sun Pill," he explained with a reassuring smile. "There's a five percent chance that anyone who takes the pill will develop Frozen Mind Syndrome. But don't worry—it's treatable. Here's what you need to do: take one of these Hot Ice Pills every century. After about ten million years, your mind will begin to thaw."
Wu Jian's heart sank. The solution sounded unbearably costly. She asked the dreaded question: "How much does it cost?"
The old man's response came without hesitation. "Hot Ice Pills are quite expensive," he admitted. "Each one costs 500 million immortal jades. But don't worry—you have plenty of credit with the sect as an immortal. At most, you'd need to work for free for a few quintillion years. It's nothing serious!"
He spoke as though a debt of quintillions of years was inconsequential, a mere trifle in the grand scheme of eternity.
Wu Jian's voice trembled with despair as she pressed further. "Is there no other way?" To her, the thought of owing so much time was utterly unimaginable, a burden too vast to comprehend.
The old man shook his head gravely. "Unfortunately, no. The Pale Sun Pill is an extraordinary item—it completely halts bodily disintegration, something very few alchemical creations can achieve. But as always, the heavens demand balance. Its effects are incredible, but its side effects can be severe. You were simply unlucky and fell into the five percent who suffer from Frozen Mind Syndrome."
He paused for a moment, letting his words sink in before continuing. "Now, your mind is completely frozen. The only safe way to melt the ice is to use Rank 10 Hot Ice Pills. Anything else could destabilize the ice, causing it to crack, shatter, or even completely destroy your mind."
His voice softened, taking on a tone of gentle advice. "As an immortal, you must trust me on this—years pass quickly when you have eternity ahead of you. A few quintillion years of service is nothing in the grand scheme of things. Please, don't take unnecessary risks. Follow the prescribed course of treatment, and you'll recover in time."
Wu Jian stared at the bottle of pills in her hand, the weight of the situation pressing heavily on her. She sighed, her resistance drained, and quietly accepted the bottle.