Chapter 6: Advancement

Early the next morning.

A crowd had gathered by the dark lake.

Dong Zhuang, Ye Yu, their teammates, Qin Yong—the eldest of the Qin family—Second Sister Qin Lan and her husband, Third Brother Qin Hui and his fiancée, Fourth Sister Qin Xin, Sixth Sister Qin Zi, all stood together, tear stains marking their faces.

The youngest, Qin Zi, was cradled in Ye Yu’s arms, both girls sobbing uncontrollably.

Qin Hui’s eyes were red, his face full of guilt. If he hadn’t encouraged Fifth Brother to go fishing, perhaps none of this would have happened.

Xu Liang, responsible for their group, frowned deeply, his expression grave. Usually, as long as work wasn’t affected, they wouldn’t interfere with convicts fishing. Occasionally, someone died, and the guards hardly cared—most people in the Frozen Abyss lived short lives anyway.

But this disappearance was different, raising suspicions of escape.

Li Ye, leader of this group of guards, was now surveying the scene with several “management” members, his face dark.

“The fish is still here, the rod too—looks like a sudden attack. There’s a long drag mark; most likely, he was assaulted by something from the lake, couldn’t react at all…”

Li Ye motioned for a torch to be brought closer, pointing at a distinct trail along the shore.

He crouched down, touched it lightly, pinched some between his fingers, and smelled it. A faint fishy odor wafted up. He mused, “Could there really be monsters in this lake?”

Having been here over two and a half years, he’d heard the rumors but never taken them seriously.

“Doesn’t make sense—we fish here all the time, why has nothing ever happened?” someone muttered.

“We have cultivation, our aura is different from these convicts. Even if there were monsters, they wouldn’t dare approach us,” another said.

Li Ye stood, addressing the grieving crowd in a detached tone, “Most likely dragged away by a lake monster while fishing. If so, he’s dead.”

At those words, the Qin siblings and many friends close to Qin Yue couldn’t hold back their tears again.

“He’s gone. But the land he was responsible for—either your family takes over, or your group does,” Li Ye said, glancing at Xu Liang. “Handle this.”

Xu Liang nodded silently.

Li Ye continued, “No one really cares if you live or die, but let me warn you—don’t be so greedy. Otherwise, you die and drag your family down with you.”

The torchlight made the sorrow on their faces starkly clear. Li Ye’s gaze swept over them: “Disperse. Get back to work! Only a few months left before the ice lotus matures. Don’t say I didn’t warn you—delay its growth, and none of you will fare well!”

With that, he and his companions left swiftly.

The Qin siblings and their friends, Dong Zhuang and Ye Yu, were left in deepest grief.

Qin Xin could barely stand, supported by Qin Hui’s fiancée, sharing his self-reproach.

Xu Liang came over and said quietly, “Enough, go back. If you delay work, I’ll have no excuse.”

He took a small cloth bag from his person and handed it to Qin Hui. “Life goes on. Take this refined salt.”

“Thank you, Lord Xu,” Qin Hui rasped.

Life had to continue, just as the sun would never rise in the Frozen Abyss. The death of one was commonplace.

…

A few kilometers away.

Qin Yue silently watched the distant torchlight fade and asked the old madman beside him, “Master, how did you handle it?”

“Call me Teacher,” the old madman replied calmly. “There’s a monster in the lake.”

Qin Yue was stunned. “Really?”

The old madman nodded, glanced at Qin Yue. “Let’s go. As of now, you’ve been eaten by the lake monster, vanished from the world.”

Qin Yue took a deep breath and turned to leave.

From then on, he spent every day learning killing techniques from the old madman, cultivating the Northern Abyss Breath and the Netherworld Escape arts.

He continued to practice Stealing Sun and Moon, though lacked opportunities to use it.

During his studies, he found that whether it was a chant or movements demonstrated by the old madman, they would manifest as “animations” in his mental world for him to observe.

Learning in the mental world proved far more effective than trying to memorize in waking reality. It even “corrected” errors, making key movements more precise.

Thus, Qin Yue realized that training through the Fate Disk of the Yin Year was fundamentally different from other cultivators—his efficiency was markedly higher.

His master’s meals were far better than before—not just meat, but ice lotus and grains. The old madman’s skill at making pancakes was unparalleled: fragrant and soft.

Qin Yue, once as thin as a reed, grew sturdy; color returned to his pale cheeks.

The old madman also gathered various herbs, had him soak in medicinal baths. Afterward, during body tempering, Qin Yue’s spine felt like a dragon, his body bursting with strength.

The only discomfort was that the old madman forbade him from leaving their hideout.

Their home was beneath the lakeside forest—an underground palace the old madman had excavated over years of seclusion, spacious for living and cultivation.

Half a month passed in a blink.

Qin Yue’s dantian vortex grew stronger and stable; his internal energy had increased vastly since he began training.

No longer did he collapse after a slight expenditure.

Each arm could exert a thousand pounds of force; channeling energy through his technique, he could shatter a five-centimeter-thick stone slab with a punch.

The old madman was very satisfied, though he never praised him aloud. Inwardly, he was delighted.

Most gratifying was the boy’s exceptional diligence and steady temperament.

All these days, Qin Yue had not once disobeyed the order to stay inside.

Finally, the old madman relaxed.

“Keep training here. I’ll go out and hunt; meat supplies are running low. If I’m lucky, it’ll take a day. If not, maybe three to five days,” he instructed before leaving.

The old man had barely stepped out when the obedient boy followed.

After so many days, Qin Yue was nearly driven mad with boredom!

Here, he couldn’t fully employ Stealing Sun and Moon, nor practice the escape techniques he’d gleaned from the Netherworld Escape.

In the Frozen Abyss, with no sun or moon, Qin Yue couldn’t tell the time. He quietly used Netherworld Escape to slip back home.

The house, once home to four siblings, now held only three.

Qin Yue found Third Brother, Fourth Sister, and the youngest still asleep. He left without a sound, heading to their group’s ice lotus plot.

The lotuses he’d empowered with Stealing Sun and Moon earlier thrived, their glow brighter, more vibrant.

He’d been cultivating this art in his mental world, and now he could apply it to eighteen lotuses.

A touch of his finger, spiritual energy flowing—far more satisfying than visualizing the Northern Abyss fish!

Though ice lotus wasn’t a great medicine, as his master said, it was a fine spiritual herb, prized by the Zhaoyang Sect.

Over the next few days, with the old madman still absent, Qin Yue kept sneaking out, honing his earth-escape technique and “helping” Zhaoyang Sect cultivate more top-quality ice lotuses.

No matter how profound a technique, it remained shallow without practice. In a few short days, the number of lotuses he could absorb essence from at once doubled from eighteen to thirty-six!

He realized this correlated with his own cultivation—the higher his level, the more essence he could absorb and digest at once.

His earth-escape technique improved dramatically: from only half his body submerged, he could now go seven or eight feet underground, teleporting over a dozen yards. Progress was remarkable.

He still struggled with ice and stone, but could sense and avoid them in advance.

The old madman returned late on the fifth night.

He dragged in a huge polar ice bear, and immediately sought out Qin Yue.

When he found the boy missing, he broke out in a cold sweat.

Just as he set out to search, Qin Yue returned, caught red-handed, offering an awkward smile. “Master…”

“I told you not to call me that!” the old madman scolded, coldly eyeing him. “Why did you go out?”

He worried Qin Yue couldn’t let go of his family, and had gone to see them.

He could understand, but could not allow it. The boy might not realize how disastrous exposure would be—he knew better than anyone how much Zhaoyang Sect cared about convict cultivators.

If discovered, the consequences would be dire, possibly implicating their whole suffering clan.

“It’s inconvenient here. I went out to practice lightness skills, only visited home once, didn’t disturb them…” Qin Yue explained.

“They didn’t know you’d been back?” the old madman asked suspiciously.

He knew how tough life was for convict clans. If Qin Yue had smuggled supplies home, it would be understandable.

“No,” Qin Yue shook his head. “And I didn’t bring them anything.”

The old madman paused, scrutinized Qin Yue, then smiled, dropping the subject. “Come, help me butcher the ice bear. We’ll cook bear paw tonight!”

From that day on, he no longer barred Qin Yue from going out, nor reminded him of anything.

Qin Yue could come and go freely, just a word of notice.

He remained curious about the lake monster his master mentioned, but each time he asked, was told to stop prying.

He secretly scouted the lake a few times, found nothing—though he twice saw Li Ye fishing alone.

Of all the guards, Li Ye left a deep impression.

Strict, ruthless, cruel.

The elders said that before Li Ye arrived, for two consecutive terms—six years—no one was sent to the ice prison. Since his arrival, in less than three years, seven or eight had been imprisoned… earning him the nickname “Black-hearted Li.”

All for trivial reasons.

Caught slacking, cried out too loudly; looked at him the wrong way when cursed.

Upon arrival, he locked a clansman in the ice cell for half an hour, nearly freezing him to death. Several fingers and toes lost to frostbite, the man crippled.

Fortunately, Zhaoyang Sect had a rule—Frozen Abyss women were inauspicious and untouchable.

They prided themselves as upright, so adhered to rules. Otherwise, untold women would have suffered over the years.

Knowing Black-hearted Li was dangerous, Qin Yue kept his distance when he saw him.

He slipped into the ice lotus plot, continually strengthening his cultivation.

Since he began practicing Northern Abyss Breath, spiritual energy in his body split: part entered his mental sea and the bronze wheel, part gathered in his dantian vortex, solidifying his foundation.

Qin Yue wasn’t sure what stage he’d reached, but his vitality grew daily, vigorous as a dragon.

His greatest skill—the earth-escape—now allowed him to penetrate two or three yards underground, run over a hundred yards.

…

Time in his mental world felt endless; sometimes a day and night seemed to pass, but when he asked his master, only three or four hours had gone by.

Yet real time passed swiftly; in a blink, Qin Yue had been in this world two and a half months, and the old madman had imparted all his knowledge.

Qin Yue mastered everything, thanks to the extended time in his mental world.

Though untested in real combat, he was now a minor expert, able to survive in the martial world unless facing true masters.

This was the old madman’s assessment based on Qin Yue’s progress.

One day, the old man said, “Meat is running low. Come hunt with me. Then, it’s almost time to leave!”

Qin Yue was momentarily stunned; joy surged in his heart—at last, he could see the sun, leave this place.

But soon, he felt reluctant to go.

In the end, he nodded silently.