Han Yu frowned. "What realm is she at?"
"We do not know," Changli said. "Most assu she is a Core Condensation cultivator, since only soone strong could manage rowdy cultivators and drunks."
"But," another whispered, "there are rumors she is far stronger."
Han Yu stilled.
"How strong?"
The man gulped. "So say that core condensation realm n who tried to be rough with the won there vanished overnight. Completely vanished. No body, no screams, nothing. Just gone."
Han Yu narrowed his eyes.
That was not the kind of ability a re Core Condensation cultivator possessed. That was the level of soone skilled in high-level assassination or illusion… or soone with strange powers entirely.
"Madam Cold Fang is the richest woman in Frost Bloom Town," Wei added. "Richer than every clan combined. Nobody dares to cross her."
"And yet Changli practically lives there," one of the hunters laughed.
Changli groaned. "Stop telling lies!"
They ignored him and pulled Han Yu closer on both sides, arms locking around his shoulders as if they had been brothers for years.
"Brother," the thin hunter said with a sly grin, "if you want, we can take you there when we reach the town. Show you so fleshly pleasures."
Han Yu chuckled, though the thought didn't sit right with him.
Sothing about Madam Cold Fang tugged at the back of his mind. Intuition? Caution? Or simply a cultivator's instincts telling him that any woman capable of making cultivators disappear without a trace was dangerous.
"I will consider it," he said mildly.
The hunters cheered as if he had already agreed.
Changli leaned closer, whispering loudly enough for everyone to hear, "Be careful though. The Pavilion might empty your wallet faster than a beast drains blood."
Another hunter added, "But you will die with a smile!"
More laughter erupted.
Han Yu allowed himself a faint smile. Their banter was crude but harmless, a world away from the calculated cruelty of sect disciples or the absurd bloodshed of the Harrow Mountains. For a brief mont, he felt almost normal.
As they continued walking, Han Yu and Changli moved ahead to scout. When beasts approached, the atmosphere shifted instantly from joking to deadly seriousness.
A Frost Hill Wolf darted from behind a rock.
Changli charged it with a whoop and swung his axe with powerful force.
Han Yu, anwhile, made the kill look theatrical on purpose. He spun the halberd in a flourish, kicked off a stone, and cut down two wolves in a single spinning strike. He felt small plus of grey surprise bloom from the watchers behind him.
Then bright green joy followed when they realized just how safe they were with him around.
Changli noticed and laughed breathlessly.
"Show-off!"
Han Yu only smirked. "I will accept paynt in good whiskey."
The n laughed and promised to give him entire barrels.
As hours passed, they hunted three small packs of wolves, two spirit foxes, and a stubborn ram. With Han Yu handling the dangerous strikes and Changli finishing off beasts, everything felt easier.
The path sloped downward steadily, snow thinning as they descended toward the foothills. By afternoon the sky brightened, showing hints of forest-green instead of endless white.
"We should reach Frost Bloom Town in four days at this rate," Wei announced cheerfully.
"You will love the whiskey there," another man promised Han Yu.
"Not as much as he will love the Frost Lily Pavilion!" soone else shouted.
Changli turned red again and tried to smack him, missing entirely.
Han Yu exhaled softly.
Warmth. Humor. Human company. A temporary refuge from the mountains' hell.
Just a few more nights and he would reach a civilized town. Then Riverglade. Then the Fatui Clan. Then the next stage of his mission.
But first… Frost Bloom Town waited ahead.
And perhaps a woman nad Madam Cold Fang, whose existence alone was an enigma.
Five days passed in steady travel, laughter, and the occasional spray of beast blood across the snow.
Thanks to Han Yu, the journey had been far easier than the hunters had expected. The paths on this side of the Harrow Mountains were noticeably smoother, better traveled, and occasionally even reinforced with wooden stakes or stone markers left behind by hunting groups.
This alone saved them hours. But the true reason they made swift progress was simple.
Han Yu killed nearly every dangerous beast before it could reach the group.
And every ti he did, he made the kill look effortless.
The hunters began to look at him the sa way townsfolk looked at veteran guards: with awe mixed with relief.
On the third day, an early stage Core Condensation Alpha Frost Hill Wolf attacked them—larger, paler, and covered in denser fur than the others. It howled, icy cold rippling through the air like a gale.
The hunters panicked.
Changli tugged his axe free but even he muttered, "This one is trouble…"
Then Han Yu stepped forward, spreading his feet slowly like an actor about to begin the first scene of a play.
"Stand back."
The wolf lunged.
Han Yu flicked his wrist.
A bright sphere of orange fla swelled inside his palm, growing rapidly until it was bigger than a man's head. The hunters shouted in surprise from behind him.
Han Yu tossed it lightly... almost lazily.
BOOM.
A shockwave of heat blasted outward, snow lting instantly in a ten ter radius. Flas wrapped around the wolf like a hungry serpent and then erupted again in a vibrant explosion that sent fiery sparks dancing across the sky like an evening festival.
The n behind him gasped, mouths hanging open as if they had forgotten how to breathe.
One whispered, "Did… did he just make fireworks out of a Core beast?"
Another slapped his own cheeks. "Am I drunk already?"
Changli stared, half in awe, half in despair. "He really does make my axe look like a stick…"
Han Yu brushed soot from his sleeve with mild annoyance, as though killing a Core Condensation beast with a flashy fireball had rely dirtied his clothes.
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