Chapter 76

Ning Shiting was running out of strength.

What had he just… seen?

Gu Tingshuang had the distinct feeling that he had glimpsed something of great importance, yet something was blocking him from recalling it.

The helplessness of it made him restless, even angry—until he heard someone calling his name. Snapping back to awareness, he found himself standing in a vast, white, empty illusionary realm. In the distance, a shadowy figure flickered.

He took a few steps forward, trying to make out the figure’s shape. But with every step he took, the mist retreated by the same distance, never allowing him to see clearly.

Then, the figure spoke. “Don’t come any closer.”

Gu Tingshuang froze.

That was his own voice.

His expression turned cold. “Who are you? Why are you imitating my voice?”

The other figure remained silent.

After a moment, Gu Tingshuang asked again, “What did I just see? What did you show me? Why let me see it, yet refuse to let me remember?”

This time, the voice answered.

“It is fate. It cannot be defied, Gu Tingshuang.”

Slowly, Gu Tingshuang began to understand. He had likely entered the Snow Yao’s spiritual consciousness—some kind of mindscape. The realisation brought him some relief. At the very least, he still remembered who he was.

Otherwise, if his consciousness were to scatter and he woke up believing himself to be a mushroom, Ning Shiting—the Jiaoren—would probably laugh at him. That ice mayfly spirit certainly would. And the little wolf… the little wolf would surely wonder why his Wang had suddenly turned into a mushroom.

He simply started strolling through the vast, white consciousness realm, no longer fixating on the shadowy figure before him. Instead, he focused on ways to strengthen his self-awareness.

He thought he was being discreet, but the other figure seemed to sense his intentions and let out a quiet chuckle.

A chuckle in his own voice.

Gu Tingshuang said, “Have you gotten addicted to impersonating me? No matter what you do to my consciousness, you won’t escape death. My subordinates are already on their way.”

The figure fell silent for a long moment.

Then, at last, it spoke again. “I need you to tell him something.”

“What? Who?” Gu Tingshuang waited, but once again, the other figure lapsed into silence. This time, it truly pushed him to anger. “Are you kidding me? Are you done yet? Who the hell do you think you are, playing mysterious like this? And you want me to pass on a message for you? Keep dreaming.”

“…I can’t… I’m unable…” The murmured voice drifted over, repeating the same phrases over and over. “I can’t… I can’t… You must tell him…”

As Gu Tingshuang listened, a strange unease crept over him. Then, he heard the final words— “My time is almost up.” In an instant, he was violently thrown out of the consciousness realm.

Clarity returned to his vision.

Gu Tingshuang was still dazed, but the endless white void had abruptly transformed into reality once more. The sudden shift sent another wave of searing pain through his spiritual consciousness like he was being torn apart. But he endured it. Because he saw Ning Shiting.

Ning Shiting emerged right before his eyes, climbing out of a crack in the ground while cradling a small wolf that had been knocked unconscious by falling snow.

The Snow Yao, still beyond his control, immediately chased after Ning Shiting. As it did, the voices that had been swirling around Gu Tingshuang’s ears vanished.

The Snow Yao had shut him out of its consciousness.

Gu Tingshuang had never expected this to happen. Ordinary beings had no way to control their own consciousness, no matter how hard they tried. Only he, born with a Celestial Spiritual Root and having cultivated the Nine Layers of Spiritual Severance, could freely manipulate his own mind.

But this Snow Yao, a creature that had emerged from the depths of a remote mountain forest—where had it learned to wield such power over its own spirit?

He realised something was deeply wrong.

But he had no time to dwell on it. The distance between the Snow Yao and Ning Shiting was shrinking rapidly, and the thought of the Jiaoren dying before his eyes sent a chill down his spine. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to focus, straining to wrest control back from the Snow Yao’s mind.

The resistance seemed to have some effect—its movements slowed noticeably, and at one point, it even stopped in its tracks, as if momentarily confused about what it was chasing.

Yet the moment Ning Shiting appeared in its line of sight, the Snow Yao snapped back to its relentless pursuit, as if regaining its awareness, locked onto Ning Shiting with unerring precision.

Gu Tingshuang was left with a single, all-consuming thought—Ning Shiting was about to die.

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

Ning Shiting was running out of strength.

The journey here had already been an immense burden, and now, exhausted from fleeing for his life, he was also dragging along a small, plump wolf that had just shrunk back to its original size after fainting.

"Yinbing... Yinbing?"

As he fled, Ning Shiting called out softly, murmuring Gu Tingshuang’s name.

No response. The little wolf had been completely dazed by the fall.

He had no idea what had happened to Gu Tingshuang, nor did he understand why the Snow Yao had suddenly abandoned the temptation of desire-incense and turned to attack him instead.

There was no other path—he could only keep running forward, never looking back. Ning Shiting didn’t know how long he had been inside the spiritual mountain, but at some point, he noticed that the moon above had changed. It was no longer the same one he had seen upon entering; now, a pale, luminous full moon hung directly overhead, exuding an eternal, ancient presence.

This was… Cliff of the Eternal Moon!

He had entered the territory of the Wolf God’s shrine!

Beyond this lay the estate of Qing Wang, but Ning Shiting knew that between the path of life and the path of death lay a vast, boundless sea of molten lava.

This land, blessed by the White Wolf God, carried an inherent command barring all foreign intrusions. That was why the White Wolf Shrine was the only place untouched by the ravages of wind and snow.

Ahead, the crimson tide of lava loomed ever closer. Behind him, the snowstorm grew colder and fiercer.

Ning Shiting reached the precipice and looked down. Below, the molten lava flowed sluggishly, so blindingly bright and scorching that it nearly seared his eyes.

He gritted his teeth, crouched down, and wrapped the little wolf tightly in his embrace.

There was no retreat—his frail Jiaoren body was all he had to shield the small wolf from this impending doom. Beneath the vast, eternal moon of Spirit Mountain, with the Snow Yao hurtling toward him like an avalanche, his figure seemed so insignificant and fragile. To think he could stand against the storm and ice with mere flesh and blood—it was like an ant trying to shake a tree.

Everyone fears death. Ning Shiting had already died once—perhaps that was why he no longer feared it as much.

But he hated how this second life of his was coming to such an abrupt, meaningless end. He hadn’t yet had the chance to personally slay the one who had destroyed him. He had saved Tingshu, but without him, what would happen next? What kind of fate awaited Tingshu when he returned to Baili Hongzhou, a man so heartless and indifferent?

As chaotic thoughts raced through his mind, a deep wolf’s howl suddenly echoed behind him. Then another. Then more, rising one after another, reverberating throughout the spiritual mountain. It was a call to kin—and a warning to the enemy.

His eyes flew open, and he turned sharply to look behind him.

The blizzard roared, an unstoppable force crashing forward. But at his feet, without him even realizing when it had appeared, an enormous, ancient tree root had begun extending at an astonishing speed—stretching across the chasm to the opposite side.

On both sides of the lava sea, colossal trees had suddenly emerged, their massive trunks bridging the gap and forming a bridge with a small break in the middle. The gap wasn’t large—just enough for a person to climb across.

Ning Shiting bolted forward.

At the same time, the little wolf in his arms stirred. At some point, it had regained consciousness and leapt out of his embrace, running ahead and gesturing for him to follow.

Its eyes were pure and clear—Gu Tingshuang’s spirit was no longer inside it. …Then where was he?

There was no time to think.The bridge of trees was sturdy, but with the searing molten lava below, the roots were already catching fire. Flames licked upward, and soon, the entire structure would collapse.

The Snow Yao was right behind him, white mist billowing in its wake. The moment it reached the bridge, the clash of wind and snow against fire engulfed the entire crossing in a blazing inferno! For an instant, Ning Shiting felt like his entire being was about to melt.

He was a Jiaoren—fire was his greatest weakness.

The little wolf had already leapt to safety on the other side, but the root Ning Shiting was clinging to was crumbling to ash. His hands, weakened by pain and exhaustion, were slipping.

He was about to fall.

Above him, the ancient white wolves had gathered, trying to pull him up, but to reach him, they would have to step onto the bridge—which was moments away from collapse.

Just one cun. Two cun.

The root tilted further, and the fierce wind made it harder to hold on. Cold sweat drenched his entire body. But suddenly—the fire was no longer behind him. It was no longer fire but… ice.

The Snow Yao—shockingly—was climbing after him.

It had never tried to cross before. But now, as if drawn by an unstoppable force, it was following him onto the lava sea. The root creaked ominously beneath their combined weight—a sound like the very gates of hell opening.

But the moment the Snow Yao stepped further—it fell. Too heavy, it plummeted straight into the molten abyss. Silence. Then—a deafening hiss. The power of the ice was so immense that for a fleeting instant, the searing magma was completely suppressed—steam exploded into the air, shrouding everything in thick mist. Then—nothing.

The crackling of burning wood had ceased.

Ning Shiting was drenched in cold sweat.

He looked down. For that one instant, the lava had been smothered by the freezing cold—but only for a heartbeat. The Snow Yao was melting. As the mist cleared, the lava glowed once more, its searing curse consuming the last remnants of ice. Layer by layer, the Snow Yao’s form peeled away. A deep, resounding howl rose from the depths. It was the Snow Yao’s voice. But it wasn’t a cry of pain. There was no desperation, no madness of a dying beast.

It was… looking at him. And as the last of the ice dissolved, a figure emerged from the mist. A human silhouette.

It reached out toward him—fingers grasping at the air—and then vanished into the molten abyss.

"Yin… Yinbing?"

Ning Shiting’s breath caught. His mind felt like it was unravelling, a nightmare threatening to surface—but he couldn’t grasp it.

Yet in that creature’s final cry, it was as if… it had been calling out to someone. The Snow Yao’s body was gone—its form erased completely. And in that instant, Gu Tingshuang’s spirit was freed. A hand seized Ning Shiting’s wrist—pulling him up from the brink of death.

It was Gu Tingshuang.

He stood before him, supporting himself on his sword, barely able to stand.

Behind him, the ancient white wolves crouched—Golden Ridge at the front, Yueya pushing his wheelchair behind him. Clearly, the great wolf had anticipated this moment and had already brought Gu Tingshuang’s body to the Eternal Moon Cliff.

Nearby, Tingshu lay unconscious, a few wolf cubs curled up on his chest to keep him warm. Ning Shiting, hoarse and breathless, asked, “Yinbing?”

Gu Tingshuang’s gaze flickered with confusion. Only when Ning Shiting spoke did he seem to regain some clarity, though his exhaustion was evident. His eyes roiled with turmoil—one moment familiar, the next eerily detached.

“Who am I, Ning Shiting?” the youth asked.

“You are…” Ning Shiting hesitated before answering softly, “the Shizi. Your name is Gu Tingshuang. You are human.”

"I see."

Afterwards, Gu Hearing Frost's eyes closed, his fingertips no longer able to grab onto anything, and under the weight of his dislocation, his entire body flung itself forward uncontrollably, and when Ning Shiting took a step forward, he fell unconscious in his arms.

Above them, light snow began to fall.