A heavy, dark shadow suddenly loomed beside Xiao Changming. Niuhua gasped in surprise, stopping his legs mid-stride, struggling to raise his arms into a defensive stance, only to find Qian Jing running frantically ahead, not sparing him a glance.

“Idiot!” Qian Jing cursed internally, without looking back at Xiao Changming—the one who had triggered the avalanche: “Do you think I have time to worry about you now? If you manage to run out of the Four Seasons Valley passage with me, I swear I’ll finish you myself!”

Rumble, rumble, rumble…

The avalanche intensified. The expanse of silver-white snow completely enveloped the sky above the valley behind Qian Jing. Even the ground before him was darkened as the sunlight was completely blocked by the deep snow, and slivers of bone-chilling cold snaked down his neck.

“Save… save me… save me…”

Qian Jing heard Xiao Changming’s voice calling out intermittently from somewhere not far behind him, before it was utterly smothered by the snowslide. A mixed feeling of relief and shock surged in his heart; the avalanche was terrifyingly fast.

The exit! Qian Jing suddenly spotted a vast, open clearing in the distance. Although it, too, was heavily blanketed in snow, sparse patches of vegetation were still vaguely visible.

“Just a little more!” Qian Jing gritted his teeth, pumping his exhausted legs, rapidly closing the distance to the exit. Ten meters, eight, six… five… three…

The snow pressed against Qian Jing’s trailing legs. For someone utterly depleted of energy, even a shallow layer of snow acted like a powerful arm, gripping his limbs.

“Damn it! So close!” Qian Jing wrenched his leg free, but felt the snowslide had already covered him up to his mid-thigh.

“Bad luck!” Qian Jing glanced at Shui Lian Ying’er pressed against his chest, then bit down hard! Fine! If he couldn't burst through, he wouldn't let anyone be buried with him! Though his legs were losing strength, his arms still held power!

Qian Jing swung his arm back, grabbed Biluo from his back, and hurled both women outward with a sudden jerk. At that exact moment, the avalanche completely submerged Qian Jing.

In the span of a mere second or two, the valley floor was choked with blinding white snow. Though the snow nearest the mouth of the valley’s open area was less deep than elsewhere, it was more than enough to bury life completely.

Shui Lian Ying’er and Biluo were thrown clear. They tumbled several times before stopping, staring blankly at the spot where Qian Jing had been, now completely buried beneath the snow, leaving no trace of him visible.

Snowflakes are perhaps the lightest of objects, melting instantly upon contact with warm skin. Yet, these feather-light particles, amassed in such volume, became as heavy as mountains. Qian Jing felt as though his bones were being crushed by the weight of the snowpack. His back felt as if it had been struck hundreds of times by a mighty warrior. Blood surged relentlessly in his chest, rising past his throat and pooling in his mouth. He couldn't move an inch, and his consciousness began to fade rapidly. Fragments of his past life started flashing before his eyes in quick succession.

These flashes were utterly disjointed, like scattered photographs lacking any sense of continuity. Suddenly, the fragments vanished, and his entire internal world was flooded with light. Then, the aged face of his father, Qian Cheng, swam into view. Illuminated by the dim, flickering glow of an oil lamp, the features gradually sharpened.

“Dad, I’m leaving.”

“Yes. Things are different outside the Qian Clan. You must be cautious in every matter.”

“And…” Qian Jing hesitated, looking at his father’s wrinkled face, ultimately holding back what he intended to say. Just the act of leaving the Qian Clan had cost his father so much. As a son who couldn't share his father's burdens, he was already unfilial; how could he ask for more?

“Son,” Qian Cheng gazed at him quietly, his rough hand gently patting his shoulder as he sighed, “It’s my fault. I couldn't become a Bloodline Warrior, making you suffer too.”

Qian Jing bit his lip and shook his head silently. Within the Qian Clan, if his father had been a Bloodline Warrior, his own status wouldn't have been so low, even if his own bloodline hadn't awakened.

But conversely, if Shadow’s bloodline had awakened, his father would have received significant compensation even without awakening his own.

“Dad,” Qian Jing’s voice was strained, “It’s my fault.”

Under the dim oil lamp, Qian Cheng’s face looked even older. His rough hands seemed to be patting his own shoulder as much as his son’s, offering comfort. “I know what you want to say. Son, Hai Qing’er grew up with you; I understand the depth of your bond. But, some things are truly fate.” Qian Jing nodded silently, his eyes shining with deep resentment.

“I know you love Hai Qing’er, and I know she loves you,” Qian Cheng sighed softly, a shadow of loneliness crossing his face. “But you know her family only agreed to let you be together because you had the potential to awaken your bloodline—you belong to one of the three ultimate Bloodline Warrior families. Now that your awakening has failed, even if Hai Qing’er still wished to be with you, her family never would. Don't forget, her family is also a family of Bloodline Warriors.”

“I know, Dad,” Qian Jing felt too drained to utter another word, as if his strength had been completely sucked away in an instant.

“Alright, go now.” Qian Cheng stood up and pushed open the door, stepping out with a slight stoop.

Watching his father's retreating back, a wave of heartache washed over Qian Jing. It wasn't a deliberate bend; it was the crushing weight of life that had bowed his father’s waist.

“Come on, let’s go.”

Qian Cheng walked ahead, hands clasped behind his back, slightly hunched. Viewed from behind, this man in his early forties, who should have been in his prime, looked like a sixty-year-old elder, his steps slightly unsteady, devoid of any warrior’s spirit.

The entire conscious world was suddenly illuminated, the scene shifting to an empty street.

Beneath a sky full of stars, a young maiden stood at the far end of the street. Her long black hair swayed gently in the breeze, and her pale green dress hugged the long lines of her legs. Even the darkness couldn't obscure her bright, agile eyes, filled with stubbornness and defiance.

The wind blew softly.

Qian Jing stood at the opposite end of the street from Hai Qing’er. They simply watched each other, not speaking a single word.

Yet, Qian Jing saw countless words reflected in Hai Qing’er’s eyes.

“I will wait for you! No matter what my family decides for me, I will wait!”

“You must become a powerful warrior. I wait for you to return and marry me!”

“I will grow stronger too! I won’t let anyone dictate my fate!”

“You wait! I will come back for you! Even if you are carried to another man’s sedan chair! Even if you have stepped through the gates of that Bloodline family, I will drag you back!”

Under the night sky, Qian Jing drew every ounce of air into his lungs and let out a roar directed upward. He quickly turned and vanished into the darkness, leaving the beautiful figure standing alone at one end of the long street.

A blinding light flared again, and the image of Qian Cheng’s slightly bowed back and faltering steps became the only vision in his mind. But after a few seconds of stillness, it morphed back into the scene of the solitary, beautiful figure at the end of the street.

The two images flickered back and forth. Qian Jing’s limbs, already freezing from the snow, slowly began to regain warmth. Two intense surges of emotion collided within him, causing his blood, his Battle Qi, and his Iron Forging Breathing Technique to erupt like three fierce flames.

Die? No! He hadn't yet become the great warrior his father could be proud of! He hadn't yet married Hai Qing’er! His father always considered Hai Qing’er his daughter-in-law; how could he die now?

Battle Qi flooded into the Zhanmadao in his hand. His boiling blood melted the cold snow around him, and slivers of strength returned to his body. His formidable energy surged through him like a rushing river. The arm strength Black had labored to build over many days allowed him to struggle to lift his arms in the snow!

The Zhanmadao erupted with an unprecedented brilliance within the snowdrift. The hard, heavy snow quickly parted to the sides, only to be immediately replaced by new snow pressing down from above, which was then parted again, and again…

Break! Break! Break! Open! Open! Open!

Biluo’s eyes suddenly brightened. She noticed a specific spot in the otherwise settled snow beginning to sink slowly downward. Although the fluctuation was small, it was noticeable upon close inspection.

Could it be…? Biluo stared anxiously at the snowpack. The rate at which the snow was collapsing seemed faster than initially.

A bit faster… and still accelerating!

“Open for me!”

Beneath the snow, a furious roar pierced through the drifts and shot toward the sky! The gleaming Zhanmadao sliced through the snow! Qian Jing violently kicked the rigid snow surrounding his body, using hands and feet together, his eyebrows covered in white frost, while breath steamed in white clouds from his mouth as he squeezed through the opening.

With a final shout, the already quiet Four Seasons Valley echoed with a faint, deep rumble once more. Qian Jing looked up and saw the snow on the surrounding peaks beginning to slide and cascade downward again, transforming into a snow-roar. He had no time to indulge in the heroic gesture of laughing three times at the heavens. Gripping his Zhanmadao, he scrambled and crawled his way out of the valley, using both arms and legs.

Breaking free from the snow had consumed nearly all of Qian Jing’s remaining strength. He collapsed onto the empty ground inside the valley, looking up at the avalanche—now a true snow-howl pouring down from the mountaintops with devastating force. He felt incredibly fortunate. If he had been pinned by the decaying snowpack at the tail end of the first wave, rather than the current cataclysm, all his fighting spirit would have been useless; a hundred lives wouldn't have been enough. Biluo and Shui Lian Ying’er each grabbed one of Qian Jing’s arms and dragged him backward with effort. Even though they were inside the Four Seasons Valley, they couldn't be sure the avalanche wouldn't spill in, and remaining too close was dangerous.

After dragging Qian Jing fifty or sixty meters, both women sank onto the ground, completely spent. Biluo, a magic student, naturally possessed some strength, but Shui Lian Ying’er, a swordswoman, had lost a significant amount of vitality due to her bleeding wound, leaving her with little energy left.