The cold of the North Plains was merciless. It crept into Hui Jian's bones, settling there like an unwelcome guest as he trudged through the thick snow. His breath billowed in white clouds, dissipating into the freezing air, while the trees stood like silent sentinels—tall, foreboding, their branches weighed down by frost. The endless expanse of white stretched out before him, a stark and desolate landscape where even the sound of his own footsteps seemed swallowed by the snow.
Every step was a struggle. His fur-lined cloak whipped in the wind, offering little protection against the biting chill that gnawed at him. The primeval essence within his aperture stirred sluggishly, the faint warmth of it unable to stave off the frost that clung to him. As a Rank 1 Gu Master, his reserves were meager at best, and in the North Plains, the cold was an enemy far stronger than any he could face with a blade.
Hui Jian kept his senses sharp, his eyes scanning the horizon. The wind whistled through the pines, carrying the scent of frost and damp wood. It was quiet—too quiet. He had learned not to trust silence in these lands. The North Plains were a cruel place, where danger lurked in every shadow. Beastmen prowled these regions, and rival Gu Masters were just as deadly. One mistake here could mean death.
He stopped for a moment, crouching low behind a snow-covered boulder, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the area. His breath slowed, controlled, as he listened for any signs of movement. The world around him was still, but he could feel the weight of the wilderness pressing in, watching him.
Satisfied that he was not being followed, Hui Jian rose to his feet and continued forward. His camp was not far now—just beyond a small ridge where he had found shelter in a narrow cave. It wasn't much, but it had kept him alive for the past few days. Shelter was rare in these parts, and Hui Jian had learned to take what he could, no matter how fleeting it seemed.
As he walked, his thoughts wandered to the camp he had left behind weeks ago. The settlement had been barely hanging on, a collection of survivors banded together by necessity, not trust. Disunity had plagued them, with leaders arguing over whether to stand and fight the beastmen or flee south to safer lands. Hui Jian had watched from the fringes, his survival instincts telling him that staying too long in one place was a mistake. The North Plains didn't care for human squabbles; it only rewarded the strong, the ruthless.
That was why he had left, striking out on his own to scavenge and survive. But even now, as he moved further from the settlement, he couldn't shake the feeling that the cold wasn't the only thing threatening to consume them. The beastmen were growing bolder, their attacks more frequent and coordinated. It was only a matter of time before they overwhelmed the camp entirely.
Hui Jian pushed those thoughts aside as the rocky outcrop came into view. His refuge, a small cave hidden beneath the ridge, offered little more than a shield from the wind and cold, but it had kept him alive this long. He crouched low, slipping through the narrow entrance and into the cramped space within. The walls of the cave were rough and jagged, and the ceiling low enough that he had to crouch to avoid hitting his head.
The embers of his earlier fire still glowed faintly in the dark, casting long shadows across the stone walls. Hui Jian wasted no time in rekindling the flames, gathering the kindling he had stored. His fingers were numb, and the cold gnawed at him relentlessly, but he worked quickly. The fire sputtered to life, its warmth spreading slowly through the cave, chasing away the worst of the chill.
With the fire burning steadily, Hui Jian pulled off his cloak and set it aside to dry. His pack followed, and from it, he retrieved the supplies he had managed to scavenge—a small bundle of dried meat, a few herbs, and a handful of primeval stones. It wasn't much, but it was enough to sustain him for now.
As he ate, his thoughts drifted to the Mind Flower Gu hidden in a small crevice in the cave wall. He had found the dormant Gu worm not long ago, its petals folded tight around itself like a sleeping flower. It was a powerful Gu, capable of enhancing strategic thought and sharpening the mind to incredible levels. But it was also beyond his current abilities.
Hui Jian sighed, his eyes drifting toward the shadowed corner of the cave where the Gu was hidden. One day, perhaps, he would be strong enough to refine it, to claim its power. But for now, it remained out of reach—a reminder of how far he still had to go.
The fire crackled softly as Hui Jian leaned back against the stone wall, his mind already planning his next move. The North Plains were vast and unforgiving, and survival meant staying one step ahead of the dangers that lurked in the cold.
But even as he closed his eyes to rest, the weight of the wilderness pressed in on him. The North Plains had no mercy for the weak, and Hui Jian had no intention of being weak.
Hui Jian's body ached from days of relentless travel, but his mind remained sharp, always aware of the precarious balance between survival and death in the North Plains. The fire's warmth was a small comfort, but he couldn't afford to relax. His instincts, honed over years of hardship, never allowed him to let his guard down.
As he chewed slowly on the dried meat, his thoughts circled back to the settlement he had left. He wondered how long they would last—if they were even still alive. Disunity, fear, and indecision had already begun eroding their fragile existence. The few supplies he had managed to steal from the beastmen would only buy them time, not salvation.
He stared into the flickering flames, his thoughts growing darker. There was no sense in going back. They were already on a path to ruin. The leaders bickered and fought among themselves, each too afraid or too proud to make the hard decisions necessary to ensure their survival.
A small part of him had considered staying, perhaps even leading. He had the instincts for survival, the ability to outthink his enemies. But the people in the camp—what use were they? They weren't willing to sacrifice what was necessary. They clung to false hopes, hoping the beastmen would retreat, or that help might come from somewhere beyond the snow-covered plains.
Fools. Help wasn't coming.
Hui Jian knew that survival in this world was earned, not given. The weak were consumed by the cold or killed by stronger predators. If he was going to survive, he would have to become stronger. He would have to rely on himself, and no one else.
His hand drifted to his pack, where a few primeval stones lay nestled among his meager belongings. He held one up to the firelight, watching the faint glow within it. Primeval stones were valuable, their essence nourishing the aperture and strengthening a Gu Master's cultivation. But there weren't enough of them. Not here, not in the frozen wastes of the North Plains. He would need more—many more—if he was to refine the Mind Flower Gu and unlock its potential.
But primeval stones weren't easy to come by, especially in this barren land. If he wanted to advance, to rise beyond his current limits, he would have to venture deeper into the wilderness, risk more, and face the dangers head-on. There was no other way.
As Hui Jian contemplated his next steps, a distant sound reached his ears—faint, but unmistakable. He froze, listening intently. The wind outside had picked up, howling through the trees, but beneath it, there was something else. A rhythmic crunching of snow. Footsteps.
His hand moved instinctively to the hilt of his knife, his body tensing. Someone was out there, moving through the forest. Slowly, Hui Jian rose to his feet, careful not to make any noise as he moved to the entrance of the cave.
The firelight flickered behind him, casting his shadow long against the stone walls. Outside, the snow-covered forest was bathed in pale moonlight, the shadows of the trees stretching across the ground like skeletal hands.
Hui Jian crouched low, peering out from the narrow opening of the cave. The wind howled, but the sound of footsteps was closer now, unmistakable. Whoever it was, they were moving deliberately, their pace steady.
A figure emerged from the trees, their silhouette faint in the distance. They moved with caution, their steps careful as they scanned the area. The figure was tall, wrapped in a thick fur cloak, with a spear slung across their back. Even from this distance, Hui Jian could sense the tension in their posture. This was no traveler. This was a hunter.
Hui Jian's grip on his knife tightened as he watched the figure. They moved closer, their eyes sweeping the forest, as if searching for something—or someone. He could feel the cold weight of danger settling over him, the familiar thrill of anticipation coursing through his veins.
Whoever this was, they weren't here by accident.
The figure paused, their head tilting slightly as they studied the ground. Hui Jian's tracks. His heart pounded in his chest as he silently cursed himself for not covering them better. The snow had been thick, the wind strong, but it hadn't been enough to hide his trail completely.
The figure knelt down, examining the tracks closely. Hui Jian could see the glint of their eyes in the moonlight, sharp and calculating. They were close now, too close. He had to act.
But before he could move, the figure stood abruptly, their gaze sweeping across the clearing. Hui Jian ducked back into the shadows of the cave, his heart racing. He could hear the faint sound of the figure's breath now, see the vapor of it in the cold air.
For a moment, there was silence. The wind howled through the trees, the fire crackled behind him, and the world seemed to hold its breath. Then, the figure spoke, their voice low and steady.
"Hui Jian."
The name hit him like a hammer, cold dread seeping into his bones. How did they know his name?
He didn't move, didn't make a sound. His mind raced, trying to piece together how this stranger had tracked him, how they knew who he was. He hadn't seen another human in weeks, not since leaving the camp.
The figure didn't move either, but their voice carried through the wind again. "I know you're there, Hui Jian. You've left quite the trail."
Hui Jian's grip on his knife tightened. He weighed his options, considering whether to fight or flee. But something about the figure's voice gave him pause. There was no malice in it, no threat. Just calm certainty.
Slowly, Hui Jian rose from his crouch, stepping out of the shadows and into the entrance of the cave. The firelight flickered behind him, casting an eerie glow over his form.
"Who are you?" Hui Jian's voice was low, steady.
The figure stepped forward, the moonlight illuminating their face. A familiar face.
"Tao Xun," the man said, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. "I've been looking for you."
Hui Jian relaxed, but only slightly. Tao Xun was no stranger, but in the North Plains, even old allies could turn dangerous.
"What are you doing here?" Hui Jian asked, his eyes narrowing.
Tao Xun shrugged, the fur cloak around his shoulders shifting slightly. "Looking for you, obviously. The camp's not doing well without you. Thought I'd find you before the beastmen do."
Hui Jian didn't respond immediately. He studied Tao Xun's face, searching for any signs of deception. But there were none. Tao Xun had always been straightforward, perhaps too much so for his own good.
"You're a long way from the camp," Hui Jian said, his voice still wary.
Tao Xun nodded, stepping closer to the fire. "I know. But the camp won't last much longer without us. We're running low on supplies, and the leaders are divided. They need someone who knows how to survive out here."
Hui Jian stared into the fire, his mind racing. He had left the camp for a reason. Returning now would only drag him back into their endless squabbles. But Tao Xun's words carried weight. If the camp fell, he would be on his own again—completely. And the beastmen were growing bolder by the day.
"You think we can change things?" Hui Jian asked quietly.
Tao Xun smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Maybe. But we won't know unless we try."
Hui Jian remained silent for a long moment, the fire crackling softly between them. The wind howled outside, and the cold crept back into the cave, but Tao Xun's presence brought a strange sense of comfort.
"Fine," Hui Jian said finally, his voice low. "But we do it my way."
Tao Xun's grin widened. "Wouldn't have it any other way."