Volume Two: The Mortal Realm Chapter 102: Ice and Release

Thrust, collapse, hook, pierce, block.

Amidst the wind and snow of the dark night, the old beggar repeatedly cycled through these simple, archaic boxing stances to spar with Ye Mingke. In the blink of an eye, they exchanged dozens of blows, with Ye Mingke being driven back hundreds of feet by the old man’s fists. The force behind the old beggar's strikes seemed comparable to Ye Mingke's own, yet the simple stances he employed were anything but simple in his hands. Every strike was precise in its orientation, footwork, rhythm, power, and angle; these few basic postures combined into countless ingenious maneuvers.

Ye Mingke realized the old beggar was likely teaching him, yet the terrifying pressure radiating from the man and the sharpness of his fists left Ye Mingke no room for complacency. A single misstep would result in him being sent flying, coughing up blood from a heavy blow. With his Spirit Eye activated, Ye Mingke perceived every subtle shift in the old man's technique. Driven by the meticulous control he had cultivated over five years of chopping wood, he began to mimic and learn the beggar’s movements, returning the old man’s own methods against him.

The tempo of their duel accelerated. The anger initially visible in the old beggar’s eyes gradually transformed into fighting spirit and passion, mixed with a joy hidden behind his lethal intensity. He was like a wine flask pouring into a cup; most people are like blocked vessels that hold nothing, and even geniuses are often merely small cups that spill when filled too quickly. But Ye Mingke was like a vast wine jar—he caught every drop poured into him, and the speed of his absorption seemed to be limited only by the speed at which the old man poured.

Ye Mingke’s mind was now focused purely on the shifts in power and form. He learned more and more stances, his learning speed increasing as his advanced deductive capabilities began to combine and evolve these techniques into his own original moves. After only half an hour of combat, the old beggar had to increase his own power by half a percent just to maintain total suppression and keep enough space to demonstrate his art.

"What kind of talent is this? Perhaps only such a gift could revive the path of martial arts and purge the curse of the immortals." The old beggar was inwardly astonished, his shock beyond words. Outwardly, however, he remained stoic and ceased holding back, his movements becoming so complex that the basic stances vanished into a seamless, unified flow.

The feedback from Ye Mingke’s Spirit Eye grew increasingly overwhelming. Due to his intense focus and the strain on his eyes, his pupils began to leak blood. The old beggar shifted his technique again, moving beyond physical stances to infuse every punch with intent and momentum. Every blow seemed to resonate with the world itself, striking Ye Mingke with the force of a collapsing mountain or a raging sea.

This exceeded the range of what Ye Mingke could precisely replicate. Lacking a matching stance to counter, he was caught off guard and struck repeatedly by the old man’s intent-infused blows. Carrying Aru, he was sent crashing through the wind and snow, blood spilling from his lips. Yet, even as he was struck, Ye Mingke’s pupils burned brighter; only by experiencing these blows firsthand could he gain a deeper understanding.

Seeing Ye Mingke injured again, the cyan glow in Aru’s eyes flared violently. As the old beggar stepped through the snow to close in once more, the air whistling with his powerful strikes, Ye Mingke prepared to block—but then, he heard a strange, ethereal, and quiet voice echo in his ears.

"Aru, no." Ye Mingke, reacting instantly, cried out to stop her.

But it was too late. Something seemed to descend amidst the falling snow, creating silent ripples. The old beggar, his fist inches from Ye Mingke, suddenly froze. His white hair and long beard whipped back from the sudden, jarring halt. Ye Mingke, face-to-face with him, saw the old man’s pupils rapidly dim, and the wrinkles on his face deepen sharply.

"Boom!"

The next moment, a tidal wave of pressure exploded from the old beggar into the snow. Ye Mingke felt as if he had been hit by a massive wave and was sent flying backward. Only then did he realize how much the old man had been holding back; if he had truly unleashed his killing intent, Ye Mingke would have struggled to even withstand the shock of it.

Standing in the snow, the old beggar bowed his head slightly and spat out a mouthful of dark blood. He slowly looked up, casting a cold, indifferent glance at the fierce-eyed Aru and the guilty, worried Ye Mingke. He said nothing, turned around, and walked toward the campfire where they had been resting.

"Senior, I am truly, deeply sorry. Are you alright?" Ye Mingke, seeing the old man suddenly turn away in silence, followed him anxiously, his voice filled with guilt and concern.

But the old beggar did not respond. His strides remained long and steady, as if unaffected. Only his back, which had regained some vigor after the night of wind and snow, seemed to stoop a little more. Liu Xi, who had been watching from afar, flew over to intercept the old man, but he simply shook his head at her and continued walking quietly. Liu Xi stood still in the snow, her head lowered, her expression unreadable. Eventually, she followed him back to the valley where they were sheltering from the storm.

Seeing that the old beggar seemed to have no major injuries, Ye Mingke felt his heart lighten, but his thoughts turned to Aru, who had recklessly used her strange power to try and kill the old man. He lowered her from his back, grabbed her shoulders, and reprimanded her in a stern, cold voice.

"Aru, have you forgotten what I told you?"

"He is not a bad person. Why did you hurt him? You must never hurt others at will, especially not with that ability of yours. Do you understand?"

Aru stood in the freezing night, held by Ye Mingke, feeling his anger and severity. Her pale face showed a mixture of fear, stubbornness, and malice.

"But... he... wanted to... kill you."

Aru, who had only begun to speak after her transformation, spoke with a stiff, unnatural tone, yet she stared defiantly into Ye Mingke’s worried and angry eyes.

"I told you, you are not allowed to hurt them. He wasn't trying to hurt me; he was teaching me. If you cannot understand the situation, you must listen to me. You must never use that power again. Otherwise..." Ye Mingke stared sternly into her eyes, his voice harsh, but he trailed off at the end.

"Otherwise... you... will leave me behind?"

Aru’s delicate face was pale, devoid of color. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her stubborn gaze held flickers of malice, sadness, and fear that she could not hide. Ye Mingke did not know what else to say. He let out a heavy sigh, picked her up, and climbed onto his back again, walking step by step toward the distant firelight.

As Aru rested on his back, watching the distant glow, her small hands gripped his clothes tightly. Ye Mingke suddenly felt cold tears falling onto his back.

He sighed heavily again, but he was still just a boy who didn't know how to care for a child, nor how to comfort or guide one.

Back at the campfire, the old beggar and the woman sat quietly by the flames. Ye Mingke examined the old man carefully and found he seemed unchanged; the face that had aged prematurely due to Aru’s power had returned to its former ruddy complexion. His heart settled further.

The winter night was cold. Seeing Ye Mingke return, the old man and the woman soon lay down to sleep. Ye Mingke curled up with Aru, who was still silently weeping, and drifted off as well.

At the first light of dawn, the old beggar and Liu Xi rose to set off again. Ye Mingke woke up and, seeing that Aru was still in a deep sleep, decided not to wake her. He wrapped her snugly in his coat, carried her on his back, and followed them.

The old man and the woman moved with great speed, as if trying to chase something down. By noon, they had crossed several mountain ridges. Suddenly, Ye Mingke stopped. He realized that although the sun was high, Aru had not yet woken up. He set her down and found her eyes tightly shut, her face pale, and her breathing weak. She wouldn't wake up. He reached out to check her temperature, and her skin was ice-cold, filling his heart with terror.

"Aru! Aru!" He shook her gently, calling out urgently, but there was no response.

The old beggar and the woman ahead had noticed him stop. Hearing his voice, they both turned to look.

"There should be a cave ahead where we can shelter from the wind," Liu Xi’s cool voice came from a distance. They turned and headed in that direction.

Hearing her, Ye Mingke knew that staying in the snow was bad for Aru. He hoisted her onto his back and followed. Not long after, in this strange mountain range riddled with underground caverns, the old beggar—who seemed to know the terrain well—led them into a cave that sloped deep into the earth.

Ye Mingke followed them in. The cave was deep, and after walking for a while, he felt the temperature rise, the biting wind from outside blocked off. He put Aru down again, but seeing her unconscious and her body temperature continuing to drop, he was at a loss. He knew nothing of medicine and had never encountered such a situation. The only thing he could think of was to build a fire.

He had just returned from gathering firewood when he saw the old beggar crouching beside the unconscious girl, his expression heavy. Seeing Ye Mingke, the old man spoke calmly:

"This child isn't just suffering from the cold; she has damaged her life source."

"A naturally cursed body is not meant to be used the way she uses it. It is actually quite fortunate that her life force is only just now beginning to wither after she used her curse so many times."