In an ordinary room, an ordinary girl lay sprawled on her bed, her delicate fingers flipping through the pages of a novel. Lin Xue was tall and slender, her long, raven-black hair cascading around her shoulders, framing her beautiful, almond-shaped eyes. Despite the world seeing her as merely another face in the crowd, her gaze held a quiet depth, something powerful yet untapped.
She had always found solace in stories of cultivation and mythical beasts, losing herself in the tales of immortals who defied the heavens. The humdrum of daily life never quite fit her, and so her escape had always been these novels.
Tonight was no different. She had just gotten to a particularly thrilling part—a scene where the protagonist faced down an ancient dragon—when the air around her shifted, growing unnaturally thick. The pages of the novel began to flutter wildly, although no wind had entered the room.
A cold shiver ran down her spine.
Suddenly, without warning, a loud crack split the air. Lightning, brilliant and fierce, tore through the roof of her room, striking her directly. Pain seared through her body. Her vision blurred, and her mind screamed as if the very heavens had ripped her soul apart.
The book fell from her hands, the words no longer making sense as darkness swallowed her whole.
"Where am I? What happened?" Lin Xue's thoughts were frantic as she floated in an empty void. Her body felt weightless, like she was drifting through space. "Am I dead?"
Then, the blackness began to shift, rippling like water disturbed by an unseen force. A cold voice echoed in her mind, indifferent, ancient. "Your destiny has come. Rise."
Her consciousness snapped back violently as light filled her vision once more. But the room she opened her eyes to was no longer hers. Gone were the familiar walls and ceiling. Instead, she found herself in a vast hall, gilded with golden designs, lanterns flickering softly along the carved pillars. She was lying on a luxurious bed, silken sheets beneath her.
A figure stood by the door—an elderly man with a long silver beard, his robes regal and flowing. His presence was overwhelming, exuding the power of someone who had touched the very fabric of the heavens. This man, she would come to learn, was none other than Grandmaster Yi Feng, leader of the revered Frost Moon Sect.
He spoke, his voice like ice cracking on a winter's day. "You have awakened. I have waited for your arrival."
Confused, Lin Xue sat up slowly. Her body felt different, stronger—charged with a power she had never known. She glanced at her hands, and as if on instinct, she summoned a small sliver of frost, the cold energy swirling between her fingers effortlessly.
"You are no longer bound by the mortal realm," Yi Feng continued. "You have been chosen. Your talent surpasses anything this world has seen."
Before she could ask any questions, a girl her age appeared, bowing low at the foot of her bed. "Mistress, I am Han Mei, your handmaiden. I have been assigned to serve you as you cultivate to the pinnacle."
Lin Xue's mind spun, but somewhere in the chaos, the truth crystallized. This wasn't a dream. She had been pulled into a world of cultivation, a place where strength determined fate. But she had no interest in the glory of the powerful, nor the pursuit of wealth or affection. Her goal was simple: reach the pinnacle and survive.
Yet, even as she made this vow, she felt a tug—an ominous presence lurking beyond the sect's walls. Someone powerful, someone with insatiable desire, had already taken notice of her.
And he would stop at nothing to have her.