Chapter 22 – Frost Veins Beneath Silent Moon

Bing Yue woke before dawn as always. The courtyard lay silent under a pale moon, frost glittering along black stone tiles and pine needles above. Thin morning mist rolled down the western cliffs, curling around her seated form in swirling silver spirals.

She sat cross-legged upon her frost jade mat, spine straight, eyes closed. Her breaths were light, barely stirring the mist around her.

Within, she circulated her qi according to her cultivation manual:

[Ice Phoenix Vein Manual – Cycle 47]

(1) Inhale frost qi through Tianyin point (collarbone)

(2) Guide into Dan Tian

(3) Condense at core into Phoenix Ice Seed

(4) Flow along Third Meridian Loop

(5) Expel hidden heat impurities through Baihui point (crown)

Each cycle took thirteen calm breaths. She repeated it unerringly, the cold force streaming through her meridians, refining them with biting chill.

Frost crystals formed upon her pale lashes. A faint crown-shaped mist drifted above her head – the embryonic sign of the Ice Phoenix Manifestation her manual described.

Cold is clarity. Heat is weakness.

That was the first teaching engraved into the opening scroll of the Ice Phoenix Vein Manual – a truth she had woven into her bones.

When dawn painted the eastern sky in pale gold, she opened her eyes.

Across the courtyard under the silent pine trees stood Ren Moxi. He wore simple pale grey robes lined in black and silver cloud embroidery. His long dark hair was half tied with a black cord, fluttering softly in the dawn breeze.

Even without moving, he emanated an aura vast and fathomless – as if an entire moonlit ocean lay beneath his calm gaze.

Bing Yue observed him quietly. Her frosty blue irises reflected dawn's first light.

Master is cultivating standing posture again… does he even sleep?

She suppressed the thought. Ren Moxi was like a silent immortal frost lotus – profound, untouchable, and far beyond her comprehension.

After dawn meditation, she unsheathed her sword to practice her attacking technique. The Frost Moon Sword Codex was a gift from Ren Moxi when she entered his tutelage.

Today's form was:

[Frost Moon Sword Codex – Form Nine: Silent Moon Descent]

(1) Step left: Crescent Edge Arc

(2) Pivot: Frost Vein Thrust

(3) Withdraw: Silent Moon Return

Each stance flowed into the next, her pale figure gliding across frost-slick tiles. Mist trailed her blade's edge, humming with condensed ice phoenix qi.

She repeated the form sixty times without pause. On the fifty-fifth repetition, her right wrist tendon tensed with strain.

Weak… only fifty-five before tension. Master would scoff.

Her lips twitched faintly at the thought. If Master Ren Moxi saw this, he would probably just glance at her wrist, sigh imperceptibly, and assign her double drills tomorrow without a word.

How thoughtful.

Halfway through her drills, she sensed rapid footsteps. Jian Tian arrived carrying two wooden buckets of fresh spring water across his shoulders. His black training tunic clung to his sweat-drenched torso.

"Morning, Bing Yue-jie!" he called brightly, panting as he tried not to slip on the frosted tiles.

She completed her final pivot, sheathed her sword with a ringing click, and turned to him calmly.

"Morning," she replied, nodding slightly.

Jian Tian beamed at her rare greeting. Despite being Master Ren Moxi's first disciple, he was twenty years younger than Bing Yue, thus calling her jie (older sister) had become his daily comedic misfortune.

He sighed dramatically. "Ah… I'm the first disciple, yet I still carry water buckets like an outer sect novice… Bing Yue-jie, shouldn't you carry them for your first senior brother once in a while?"

She looked at him, her expression as frosty as her qi. "If I carried them, your weak shoulders would deteriorate even further."

Jian Tian gaped, then laughed weakly. "That… is… encouraging…"

As he trudged away toward the alchemy hall, she wiped condensation off her sword blade with frost qi to prevent rust.

First disciple, yet he acts like a toddler with his first tooth…

She repressed a sigh. Though annoying, Jian Tian's bumbling presence warmed the silent frost of her cultivation days.

At noon, she moved into Ice Phoenix Needle Manifestation, an advanced technique detailed in her manual:

[Ice Phoenix Vein Manual – Appendix III: Phoenix Frost Needle Art]

(1) Condense frost qi at Dan Tian

(2) Split into 500 ice phoenix threads

(3) Manifest as physical frost needles

(4) Maintain structural cohesion for 30 breaths minimum

Five hundred frost needles flickered around her in a wide circle, refracting sunlight into prismatic blue and white gleams. Sweat beaded on her brow as she concentrated.

Breath one… two… twenty-nine…

Suddenly a squirrel scuttled across the pine branches overhead. Her concentration flickered. Frost needles clinked softly as they lost cohesion, dissolving into a fine mist.

She exhaled, unperturbed.

Distraction resistance training… add to tomorrow's drills.

At dusk, she knelt upon her frost jade mat for final meridian cleansing.

The setting sun dyed the sky in gold and vermillion, casting her slender silhouette into sharp relief against the courtyard tiles. Within, her qi flowed in a silent glacial river, clearing the fatigue and strain accumulated through the day.

Distantly, Jian Tian's loud chatter drifted from the kitchen hall as he bragged to outer disciples about carrying spring water for Master Ren Moxi's Eight Petal Mist Lotus refinement.

Small victories… small minds.

She let the thought melt away with her exhale, returning to calm focus.

Later that night, lying upon her thin bedding, she gazed at the flickering oil lamp overhead. Master's qi signature still radiated from the alchemy hall, steady and vast as an unbroken glacier.

Master Ren Moxi…

She closed her eyes, sensing her frosty meridians pulsing with tranquil clarity.

One day, I will master the Ice Phoenix's full manifestation…

She paused, before adding in dry comedic resignation:

…but on that day, I will probably still have to scrape burnt rice from Master's iron pot after he tries to "cook" again.

Outside, moonlight bathed Dragon Tale Peak in pale silver, illuminating the courtyard where drifting frost mist curled like silent white dreams waiting for dawn.