Chapter 479 - Spying, Secretly Learning the Cultivation Technique, Returning to the Earth Soul Realm! - Part 1

Chapter 479 - Spying, Secretly Learning the Cultivation Technique, Returning to the Earth Soul Realm! - Part 1

Nine Flames Tribe, Western Extremities.

A woman with kind eyes but a hopeless gaze sat in the snow, clutching a long flute. The melody she played was soft and distant, drifting away with the falling snow.

When the final note faded, it left behind only heartbreak. She lowered the flute, lips parting as if to speak, but she had long forgotten the words.

Three years ago, she was the revered Khatun of the Nine Flames.

Three years later, she was just a woman adorned in faded glory, forgotten by the world.

They still honored her, still gave her the highest privileges. She could do anything she wanted. But what was left for her to do? To others, it looked like she had the greatest freedom in the world. But in truth, she'd been granted the greatest loneliness.

This woman was Jen’gal Snow.

Now, her heart was like cold ash. Detached. Hollow. Her man had died, in that grand, blazing celebration dancing in front of the withered bonfire. And she knew very well why.

Her grandson, Jen’gal Tengsur, was being raised by the Wolfmother, Meng Xingxian. She, the grandmother, could do nothing to help.

Her son, Jen’gal Naran, had seemingly gone mad. Day and night, he buried himself in cultivation or drilled with the two-headed direwolf cavalry, as if racing against death itself.

She understood why. Not only understood, she accepted it, and it broke her heart.

Sometimes she wondered if she had listened to her husband and not given birth to that ill-fated child, would things have turned out differently?

But that question had no answer.

Snow's life had ground to a halt, as if frozen in time. She would remain here, unmoving, until her lifespan ran out. Until death quietly came. Nothing would change.

Meng Xingxian had once said she might be allowed into the Deathless Tomb. The guardian there, known as the Crowmother, might let her enter for the sake of past ties.

Now, across the snowbound plains of the Western Extremities, the two-headed direwolves were not alone. The crows had come, too.

They flew in flocks, blackening the skies. And among the Ice Folk who only half-understood the legends of the Deathless Tomb, there was a new name for its guardian, the Crowmother.

Even Meng Xingxian had quietly acknowledged the title.

Crows. Direwolves. Snow. Barbarians. Evernight. Together, they formed a scene unique to this forsaken land.

Snow remained seated, perched at the edge of the firelight. No one paid her any mind, so she picked up her flute again.

She was just beginning to play when her ear suddenly twitched. It felt like a tiny insect had landed there.

The sensation was oddly nostalgic. It reminded her of the time she had snuck away from the Western Extremities and met her husband. Back then, in the mountains, there were insects like this everywhere.

She couldn’t bring herself to swat it away. She let it stay, buzzing gently by her ear.

And then, she heard a voice.

“Don’t draw attention.”

Snow froze, body trembling. Her eyes widened in disbelief.

And all the emotions she had buried deep inside suddenly surged forth, summoned by that familiar voice.

The voice continued,

“There are many things, many secrets. But for now, there’s no one in this camp you can trust. Just listen to me quietly.”

Snow took a deep breath and forced her face to remain calm.

But inside her chest, it was as if war drums had begun to pound. Louder and louder, until her soul quaked from the sound. From the barren, deathly stillness of her heart, a green shoot broke through. Fragile, but full of life.

In that instant, a flood of emotion surged through her. It was grief, fear, and a deep, aching sense of being wronged.

She whispered, barely audible, “Is it really you?”

The tiny insect replied,

“It’s me. Your man’s a bit more impressive than you gave him credit for. He didn’t die. He’s right here. Inside your ear.”

Snow’s eyes reddened in a flash, her lips trembling. “C-can you still change back?”

The little bug said proudly, “72 Transformations, name it and I can do it. Don’t believe me? Walk a little farther away and I’ll change back to show you.”

But Snow didn’t move. Instead, she suddenly asked, “When we first met, what was your name?”

The little bug paused for a moment.

“Woody.”

“And what did we do together?”

“I dragged you along with me to buy new shoes, embroidered ones. But then you decided the shopkeeper was too weak to deserve payment and wanted to rob them instead. That thought alone shook me for days. Then I went back with you to the Trueflame Tribe.

The moment we arrived, someone tried to mess with me. I remember Jen’gal Changar, that was his name. Lost his two wives to me in a bet. I didn’t even do anything to them and returned them right away.

At the time, I thought, what kind of tribe is this? Nothing but a pack of uncivilized savages. Later, I showed a bit of my strength and got made into the Grand Elder.

Then we went to investigate the Deathless Tomb, only to get ambushed. If you hadn’t carried me on your back through snow and storm, I’d have died there for sure.

And after that...”

The little bug went on and on, rambling like a brook.

And Snow’s memories flowed backward with his words.

A lifetime spanned a hundred years, but the moments a person treasured most—the ones that kept returning to them, that continued to move them—were always the most foolish, the most impulsive, and the most vividly clear days of one’s youth.

She closed her eyes, listening quietly. A soft smile played at her lips from time to time, and at other times her face turned gentle, as if she were truly reliving those memories. By the time he finished, her cheeks were wet with tears.

There wasn’t a shred of doubt left in her. She rose to her feet, tucked the flute away, and leaned on her cane, preparing to walk off into the distance.

But she had barely taken a few steps when two female wolf riders came charging in on twin-headed direwolves, fast as a whirlwind.

As they drew close, both riders reined in their direwolves and dismounted swiftly. “The cold outside is dangerous, please allow us to—”

Their words were cut short by a voice sharp and cold as steel.

“Am I a prisoner now?”

The riders froze and leapt down from their wolves.

One said hurriedly, “We wouldn’t dare!”

The other added, “The Khatun only ordered us to stay close for your protection.”

Snow’s tone grew icier. “I’m merely walking near the tribal grounds. Must I be watched like a criminal?”

“N-no, of course not! It’s not surveillance. She is simply worried about you...”

Snow struck her cane hard into the snow, then drew a line with its tip. Her voice was calm but firm. “Then hear me now. None of you are to cross this line.”

Though she spoke gently, her presence commanded obedience. Her authority, though quiet, was absolute.

The two riders looked stricken.

Snow softened her tone. “It’s too warm near the bonfire. I just want to take a walk. Alone. You don’t need to worry.”

One of the riders said nervously, “But you...your life is priceless. You can’t just—”

Snow cut her off. “Once, I walked barefoot through snowstorms, carrying the old Khagan on my back for thousands of kilometers, just to find the way home. What

priceless

body are you talking about? Tell the Khatun I just want to walk. I’m not here to make trouble.”

One of the wolf riders said, “Then please wait just a moment. I’ll go report right away. I’ll be back very soon!”

Without another word, she leapt onto her direwolf and sped off like a gust of wind.

Snow watched her disappear into the distance. Her eyes, once hollow and dim with despair, now shimmered with calm and quiet resolve.

Not long after, the rider returned and bowed respectfully. “The Khatun is indeed concerned for your safety, but she never meant to restrict your freedom. Just...please don’t wander too far.”

Snow gave a small nod. Then she turned around, and a faint, cold smile curled at her lips.

Leaning on her cane, she slowly made her way forward. As the heat of the Trueflame Tribe’s bonfire waned, she finally arrived at a secluded outcrop of ice and stone. She whispered, “Here, right?”

The little insect buzzed forward, then suddenly transformed before her eyes into a young man.

He looked exactly the same as before. Familiar face, commanding presence, powerful frame, broad shoulders.

Snow was stunned. And before she could gather her thoughts, the young man pulled her into a firm embrace.

Her body trembled, and her arms, thin and unsure, wrapped shakily around his strong waist. She clung to him, burying herself into his warmth, as if trying to melt into him completely.

From deep inside her, a long-lost feeling of peace and softness slowly bubbled to the surface.

Then she heard a gentle voice in her ear.

“I’m still here.” It was Li Yuan. His voice was soft as snow. “Forgive me for the deception. The bones you saw...I left them there on purpose.”

Once upon a time, Snow had been a naive girl. But that innocence had long since been burned away, burned by the lies of the Deathless Tomb, the birth of a child fated to be a Arikkhan, the fabrication of the Ancient Sun Canon, the rebellion of the Bronze Clad Tribe, Meng Xingxian’s power grab... After all that, she was no longer the simple girl she used to be.

So now, standing in the arms of this man, there wasn’t even a flicker of anger in her eyes. Instead, her voice was soft with admiration. “Good thing you kept it secret.”

Because if he hadn’t, if he had told her the truth back then, no amount of acting on her part could have fooled Meng Xingxian.

And once Meng Xingxian caught wind of the truth, everything would’ve spiraled out of control. A single snowflake might trigger an avalanche.

In their silent embrace, everything was said without a word.

“What do you need me to do?” Snow’s voice was calm, smooth like flowing water, but with an edge hidden underneath.

The moment Li Yuan returned, it was like placing a sharp blade back into her hands.

Li Yuan asked, “In these past three years, everything that Naran and Meng Xingxian have done, you know it all, don’t you?”

“I do,” Snow replied. Her eyes lit up with clarity, and then she chuckled.

Li Yuan raised an eyebrow. “What’s funny?”

“You,” she said. “You’re sly as an old fox. I’ve watched games of

chess

in the Great Zhou. On the board, once a piece is captured, it’s considered dead. That space is empty. But in real life? This

captured

piece, you...it was never really gone. And who would ever expect a dead piece to come back to life?”

Li Yuan gave her a guilty smile. “You’re not mad at me, then?”

“Not only am I not mad,” Snow said with a loving smile, “I love you even more. My man...is the finest man in the world.”

Li Yuan rubbed his face, pretending to be bashful. “You’re making me blush.”

Snow laughed as well, then began to speak.

Everything she had seen, everything she had heard, every detail she had deduced or guessed...she told him all of it, without holding anything back.

No one had ever suspected her.

Naran never suspected a thing. Not only that, in their rare meetings, he told her everything—openly, without reservation. Because deep down, he carried a heavy guilt toward this mother he had wronged.

Meng Xingxian might have been cautious at first, but eventually, even she dropped her guard. Not only did she stop hiding things, she even confided much of her and Naran’s plan to Snow—hoping that she, out of lingering sentiment, might help them gain access to the Crowmother’s domain.

But now, all of that trust, all of that carelessness, had become a gift-wrapped package for Li Yuan.

Time passed slowly. Li Yuan listened in silence, his expression thoughtful, absorbing every word.

By the time Snow finished, he had pieced together a great deal. And when he combined it with what he already knew, a picture began to form. It was one that included his youngest son training in Sea of Slumber, Kabrol, and learning the Earth Soul cultivation technique.

“What should I do now?” Snow asked quietly.

Li Yuan’s voice was gentle. “Keep watching. Keep listening. And wait for me to come get you.”

“Mhm.” She nodded and pulled him into another tight embrace.

In that moment, hope returned to her heart.