Chapter 59: Gathering Storms (Third Update Delivered!)

Northern Undersea Clan, Icebound Pavilion.

The Icebound Pavilion was constructed from snow-ice rocks, a rare natural stone exuding bone-chilling cold even in the height of summer. Rising nine stories and dozens of zhang into the air, the pavilion radiated frigid air in all directions, looming like a desolate, glacial mountain.

—This was where Beiming Shang endured his bitter cultivation.

The "Extreme Frostflame" martial spirit of the Northern Undersea Clan was innately cold and dark. Training within the Icebound Pavilion, built entirely from snow-ice rock, brought great benefit to those who possessed the "Extreme Frostflame" spirit.

Generally, Beiming Shang seldom left the Icebound Pavilion except to temper his secret treasures. Every guest who visited the clan had to brave the freezing air within the pavilion and meet him there. Beiming Shang was a man who cared nothing for the comfort of others; he expected all to accommodate him.

From the first to the ninth floor of the pavilion, the cold intensified with each level. Even the younger generation of the Beiming Clan, when paying their respects, could only wait on the third or fourth floor at most—any higher, and their bodies could not endure.

Sixth floor of the Icebound Pavilion.

Amidst towering icy pillars, Beiming Shang sat solemnly. His robust frame was shrouded by dense, swirling frost. Upon the pillars, strange icy flames burned, making the chill here all the more piercing.

Mordo frowned, standing across from Beiming Shang. At his side was the handsome Beiming Ce. In the shadows behind two pillars, Yin Kui and Jiu Shan sat like ghostly apparitions, heads bowed as though in slumber.

Led by a pavilion attendant, Mu Yudie and Diyalan ascended to the sixth floor. The cold here was twice as biting as the floor below. The moment the two young women set foot on the sixth floor, their delicate bodies shuddered; it was as if they had stepped into an ice cave, their limbs quickly growing stiff.

“You’re here,” Beiming Ce said, stepping forward and signaling to Mu Yudie. “This is my grandfather, and this is... the head of the Mo family.”

Mu Yudie and Diyalan’s faces both changed slightly. They glanced at Mordo, their expressions almost frozen. Luo Hao’s death had been made clear by Hu Long: aside from the interference of Barnard and the Darkmoon Envoy of the Shadow Underworld, bolts of lightning had also struck from the sky...

Afterwards, the two women had met Mo Chao Ge and realized that he must be involved in Luo Hao’s death. Unfortunately, the Mo family’s power within the Mercantile Alliance was significant, and their ties with the Beiming Clan not shallow. When Beiming Ce had so easily driven Mo Chao Ge away, it was clear he wished to avoid open conflict with the Mo family and had no intention of standing up for them.

Now, unexpectedly confronted with the Mo family’s patriarch in the Beiming household, Mu Yudie and Diyalan felt a surge of displeasure. Yet, in Beiming Shang’s presence, they dared not reveal it and could only stew in silence.

“Greetings, Grandfather Shang.” The two bowed together to Beiming Shang, deliberately ignoring Mordo.

Mordo’s expression remained unchanged, a subtle smile playing on his lips, as if he were indifferent to their disregard.

“I heard that you spent some time with a certain young man in the Dark Forest. There are matters I wish to ask him about. Do you know his background?” Beiming Shang’s narrow eyes betrayed no emotion as he went straight to the point.

Mu Yudie’s heart tightened. After a moment’s hesitation, she replied, “He is just an insignificant martial artist. How could Grandfather Shang know of such a person?”

“There is something on him that I want,” Beiming Shang said, his brow furrowing. “Do you know where he comes from?”

Shaking her head, Mu Yudie answered, “I don’t know. We met him by chance on the road. Out of fear of the murderous spirit beasts, we traveled together. I truly don’t know his background, only that his name is Ding Yan. He seems to be an ordinary martial artist from the Mercantile Alliance.”

“Ding Yan...” Beiming Shang nodded, pausing before asking, “Do you know which city he hails from, or where he might be found?”

“I don’t,” Mu Yudie replied, shaking her head again.

Beiming Shang fell silent for a while, then said calmly, “Very well, that’s enough. The martial tournament will be held soon. You two can accompany Ce to watch. Staying here every day must be dull. I was once friends with your grandfather; now that he’s gone, I will naturally look after you. Rest assured, the people of the Shadow Underworld would never dare move against you within the Mercantile Alliance.”

“Thank you, Grandfather Shang.” Mu Yudie’s eyes grew moist, her voice choked with emotion. “Whenever I think of what happened to my family, I wish I could tear those murderers to pieces! My Mu family—over a hundred souls—was slaughtered in a single night. Grandfather Shang, you must help me avenge them!”

“These things can’t be rushed. We’ll speak of it in time,” Beiming Shang replied, waving a hand. “Go and rest now. This floor is too cold for your cultivation level.”

“Yes.” Mu Yudie did not linger. After bowing again, she tugged Diyalan’s sleeve, and together they withdrew.

“Do you think that girl is hiding something?” After the two women left, Mordo frowned. “A single name is not much to go on. Searching will be troublesome.”

“Ce, what’s your opinion?” Beiming Shang glanced at Beiming Ce.

“I don’t think she’s lying,” Beiming Ce replied. “I’ll find another chance to ask. In any case, the remnant map from the Ethereal Pavilion is still in our hands. There’s no need to rush.”

Beiming Shang nodded. “Good. Keep an eye on those two girls. Remember not to be deceived—I don’t want you becoming someone else’s tool, understand?”

“Grandfather, I know what I’m doing,” Beiming Ce assured him with a confident smile.

“Mordo, don’t worry about this matter for now. I’ll notify the Shi and Zuo families to keep watch for Ding Yan as well. Rest assured, I’ll use my own name to search—no one will trace it back to you,” Beiming Shang said with pride. “With the five great families of the Mercantile Alliance searching together, I refuse to believe we can’t find a commoner! Make sure your people send me that boy’s portrait. If he’s alive, he won’t escape.”

“Very well, I’ll take my leave,” Mordo replied, nodding before turning to go.

“Ce, keep an eye on Zuo Shi of the Zuo family. She’s made contact with Chixiao. If you can bring her into our family, it will save us a lot of trouble,” Beiming Shang said after Mordo had left. “That girl is exceptionally gifted and is Zuo Xu’s beloved daughter. She’s also quite willful. If you can win her over, Zuo Xu will have no choice but to bind his family to ours.”

“There’s no rush. One step at a time,” Beiming Ce replied confidently.

Beiming Shang nodded again. “Mu Yudie is talented as well, but her musical martial spirit, though powerful, offers little benefit to our ‘Extreme Frostflame’. That Diyalan girl, however, possesses the ‘Blue Demon Flame’ martial spirit, which may well complement our own. Keep a close eye on her. If you can form a union with her, she might give our family an outstanding heir.”

“Don’t worry, Grandfather. If I set my sights on something, it won’t escape.”

“Good. Since they’ve come to our clan, they shouldn’t expect to leave.”

...

Zuo Family.

Zuo Xu sat leisurely in a side chamber, sipping tea. Behind a screen, a shadowy figure knelt and reported, “Beiming Shang has sent word, asking us to help search for a young man named Ding Yan. He claims the boy stole something from his clan and is offering five Xuan-grade weapons as a reward if we find him.”

“Five Xuan-grade weapons?” Zuo Xu chuckled as he savored his tea. “Beiming Shang is as stingy as ever. Five Xuan-grade weapons in exchange for half a map to the ‘Heaven Gate’? Such a calculating old fox.”

“What are your orders, Master?”

“Search, of course. Have our people call out his name in every city, but don’t take it too seriously. Grab a few men named Ding Yan to fob him off, so he doesn’t get suspicious.”

“Understood.”

...

Shi Family.

Shi Jian had received the same news. With a cold laugh, he held the letter. “So Mordo has gone to Beiming Shang for help. Hmph! Luckily, Shi Yan told me the truth, or I’d be in the dark. Beiming Shang, you could never imagine—Ding Yan is Shi Yan himself. And now you want me to help you find him? Fine, I’ll help you search!”

“How?” Han Feng asked flatly.

“Round up a few people connected to the Mo family, make them mute, tell Beiming Shang they’re all named Ding Yan, and send them over.”

“Understood.”

...

The five great families of the Mercantile Alliance—Beiming, Zuo, Mo, Shi, and Ling—began a sweeping, overt and covert search for a man named “Ding Yan” in every city under their influence.

Suddenly, the name “Ding Yan” became infamous throughout the Mercantile Alliance. Many who bore the name were seized by the five families. Even those with close ties to the Mo family but not named Ding Yan suffered misfortune, beaten into cripples and made mute, then delivered to the Beiming Clan.

With the martial tournament approaching, warriors across the Alliance were sharpening their skills, and outsiders traveled great distances to compete. Laughably, many martial artists were captured simply for being named Ding Yan.

In a single night, “Ding Yan” became a hunted name, cursed by all.

Yet the true Ding Yan, the cause of all this turmoil, was quietly training in the Shi family’s gravity chamber, thrusting his fingers into iron sandbags tens of thousands of times each day.

With each strike, the massive sandbags, weighing hundreds of jin and suspended from the ceiling, were pierced through with deep holes.

With a sharp sound, Shi Yan drove his five fingers deep into the center of a sandbag. As he withdrew his hand, his fingers glimmered with an eerie, metallic frost, as though they were blades of steel—striking and terrifying.

“Well, the martial tournament is about to begin, and the storm from the Ethereal Pavilion is coming. My ‘Finger Spear Technique’ has at last reached a modest level of mastery.”

...

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