Chapter 330 – The Invasion of the Ice Folk, Reborn in the Flame - Part 2

When the reunion feast finally broke up, Yan Yu tugged Tang Nian’s sleeve and whispered, “Nian Nian, next time you intercept a love letter, let me read it first and tell me the boy’s background. My rouge peddler can push Yin marked rouge through the neighboring towns. If his clan isn’t too far away, I can have the peddler take a look.”

“Of course, Godmother,” Tang Nian answered with a grin. Then, she added softly, “Don’t worry. It’s all just childish teasing for now.”

After a few more quiet words, she directed the Tang Qiu puppet to lift the waiting carriage. It rolled away with Tang Nian, Xue Ning, and Sheng'er inside—lanterns dwindling, wheels crunching over snow until only wind and white peaks remained.

Li Yuan and Yan Yu turned back toward the black market ghost domain.

They had gone only a dozen steps when Li Yuan said, “Yan Yu, I want to try.”

Yan Yu looked over her shoulder. “Will it kill you?”

“A fourth rank martial artist can revive from a single drop of blood. I’ll force a temporary breakthrough with heavenly thunder, store a few drops, then attempt it. If I fail...I don’t know how long recovery will take. I need to leave some letters. Please see they reach the right people.”

𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

“I will.” Yan Yu’s support was ironclad.

In the mortal world that might have been a scene of red sleeves and warm lamplight; here, ghostly mist swirled while pale fingers ground ink.

The first letter went to Jen’gal Snow. Li Yuan revealed his true identity, apologized, but confessed he had always regarded her as his wife. He offered her another path, to come to the Tang Sect, live well, and simply wait. Ultimately, he left the choice entirely to her.

The second letter went to Yao Jue. He wrote that he was alive, now fourth rank, and currently in Cloudpeak Province but unable to travel. If danger loomed, she could bring Cui Huayin, Ping'an, Jing Shuixiang, and the others to Cloudpeak Province. However, she couldn’t reveal the fact that he was alive to anybody else unless absolutely forced. At the end, he listed names she could trust. This included the leader of the Black Cloaks, Wang Heran; the matron of the Old Oakhouse, Si Fengru; and the boss of the Black Wolf Gang, Wang Linji.

To Li Yuan, the former maid Yao Jue was rational and quick‑witted; as Gu Xuejian’s sworn sister, she would use the letter well.

The third letter was addressed to Jen’gal Suljagar but entrusted it to Tang Nian for the proper moment. It was insurance against an invasion of Cloudpeak Province. If the tribes of the Nine Flames invaded, conflict would be inevitable since the Tang Sect and the various clans of the west had forged a

web of interests

.

In an all out conflict, the Tang Sect and various clans would lose.

The letter was blunt.

Li Yuan warned that the people of the Nine Flames should exercise restraint. When the outcome was obvious, they should claim a few townships and be done with it.

Near the end, he wrote—

“Tell me, do you believe the gods cursed me or rewarded me with a gift to digest? Beyond Cloudpeak Province stand many powerhouses who are my equal. If they discover you, they may cage you as slaves. Leave room for tomorrow, or tomorrow will leave no room.

- Jen’gal Yuan”

It was, in essence, a plea to sit down and negotiate, meant to be delivered only when the Tang Sect and great clans of the west could no longer hold the tribes of the Nine Flames back.

With the letters sealed, Li Yuan slept soundly, then meditated a full day and night. When the gods seemed distant and his mind lay still as water, he set White Serpent at his side and stepped outside the black market ghost domain.

He summoned heavenly thunder. Lightning sheathed his skin in blinding silver. And within that silver, one scarlet point burned like a brand.

Drip, drip, drip!

Several drops of blood spattered into the jade vial prepared beforehand.

Yan Yu glanced inside. “Pure Yang, definitely fourth rank.”

Li Yuan dismissed the thunder and sat in a quiet meditative pose.

Three days and nights passed; the stored blood did not degenerate. Only then did he return to the black market ghost domain, inhaling great draughts of Yin energy to herd the fire within his lungs toward his heart.

The flame was uncanny, seeping from his lungs like molten steel.

Li Yuan grunted, sweat pouring even in the deep‑winter chill. Each inch the blaze crawled felt like a red‑hot blade twisting in his gut.

At last, the flame reached his heart.

His whole body snapped rigid; fingers and toes flared wide. Head thrown back, throat taut, he let out a roar no human throat should make—and a jet of flame blasted from his mouth.

Fire gushed from his seven orifices, the tongues of flame weaving together like fiery serpents, restless and blood‑red, coiling madly through the night.

“ARRRGGH!”

Panting, Li Yuan snatched up Azure Serpent and sprang toward the edge of the black market ghost domain. But barely a dozen strides in, a hand clamped down on his shoulder.

Yan Yu’s bone‑white fingers hissed and smoked where they met the scorching flesh, the smell of charred meat rising between them.

“I’m all right, Yan Yu,” he rasped.

Only then did she loosen her grip.

Li Yuan burst into the wind‑whipped peaks. A brilliant light flashed.

The Tranquil Sea Blade detonated.

It was as if a monster had charged into the range. Every step triggered an avalanche; a casual

bite

gouged a trench hundreds of feet deep; a second

bite

reduced a peak to drifting powder.

Fire now pulsed through his heart. Every droplet of blood carried flame.

Li Yuan halted; blood‑jets spurted from every pore, each wreathed in fire. When he swung Azure Serpent, it blazed of its own accord, while white lightning still crackled around him. Fire and thunder intertwined. He hacked and cleaved, forcing his body to adapt—and hopefully coaxing the blaze to coalesce into a proper technique.

No one knew how long he raged, but the surrounding mountains became a rock‑strewn wasteland no mortal could cross. Every path was buried in rubble.

Completely spent, Li Yuan staggered back using the blade as a crutch. Wrapped head‑to‑toe in fire, he did not re‑enter the black market ghost domain; he merely sank down with his back against its border.

Yan Yu wordlessly took up station behind him.

“Wine,” he croaked.

She fetched two jars of Snowbrew and rolled them outside the threshold. Li Yuan tipped the jar over and swallowed one big mouthful. Then he spewed it out in a roaring gout, a dragon of flame more than a hundred feet long. Sparks mingled with whirling snow, painting a breathtaking scene.

“Yan Yu...the flame is too pure. I have to digest it out here.” His voice was raw. “If...if it looks like I’m losing control, drag me inside and drown the flames. But if I can endure...let me bear it.”

“You will endure,” she said simply. “And if not, I’m here.”

Li Yuan laughed, a ragged, booming sound.

He planted Azure Serpent and White Serpent in the frozen earth, crossed his legs, and began to breathe. Flames ate away his clothes; tongues of fire writhed from his eyes, ears, nostrils, and pores like a nest of scarlet serpents.

Time crawled.

Winter deepened, then deepened again.