Underfoot were dark stones, most of them crushed into small pieces. Rarely was there one bigger than a palm, and the smallest had already turned to sand. Their dark gray hue didn’t reflect light, making the mountain appear black from afar. The stones that made up the snowy peaks were likely of similar texture. There wasn’t snow here—yet—but the air was already filled with biting cold. The vegetation had grown sparse and low to the ground, mostly a single kind of shrub. A few trees that resembled pines managed to grow here, though they were far shorter than usual. Some had even bent low, sprawling along the ground, as if even the steadfast pine had to bow in the face of this deep mountain. Green, fuzzy mosses clung to the branches—this parasitic plant seemed to suggest that the air here was damp and misty. The swallow stood atop one of those pines, which wasn’t even as tall as a person, gazing up at the snow-covered peaks. The little cat, standing on the gravelly ground, looked up at Song You. All around was silent and still, not even birdsong. Only their voices could be heard. “Yan An, did your leg get sand in it?” “L-Leg? How would my leg get sand in it?” “It’s when there are lots of tiny little specks.” “I mean, is your leg numb?” “Lady Calico, my leg isn’t numb.” The cat paused, then said, “Well if it ever does go numb, remember to tell me! I have a good method!” “Birds rarely get numb legs.” “Then wait ‘til you turn into a person and get numb!” Song You paid no mind to their chatter. After watching the snow-covered mountain for a while, he took a step forward. The gravel and broken stones crunched underfoot, not much different from walking across the Gobi Desert. “Lady Calico, focus on the road and talk less. If you find the rocks hurting your paws, you can ride the horse for now. It should be able to carry us until we reach the snowline. After that, the slope gets too steep, and only you and I can climb.” “I can walk on my own!” “As you wish, Lady Calico,” Song You replied, glancing up. “In any case, this mountain isn’t easy to climb.” “Confidence is good, but don’t underestimate the challenge.” “Is it harder than Yunding Mountain?” “It’s taller and steeper than Yunding Mountain. Snow lies on it year-round, the air is thinner, and it takes even more courage to scale. Far fewer people have reached its summit compared to Yunding Mountain,” Song You said as he continued walking forward. “And there’s something even more mysterious about this place, something Yunding Mountain doesn’t have.” “They say a local spellcaster once tried to climb this mountain. He was confident, thinking that since ordinary mortals had made it up, he could surely do so with ease using his skills. But to his surprise, the climb wasn’t any easier—in fact, it was even harder. That spellcaster nearly died on the mountain.” “I didn’t know if it was true before coming here, but now that I’ve felt the mountain’s mystical aura, I believe it probably is.” The cat stared at him seriously, falling into thought. “In any case, this is a sacred mountain. Regardless of how divine it truly is, it has stood here for who knows how many tens of thousands of years. It’s our elder. Lady Calico, you should show it some respect,” Song You said. “Unless absolutely necessary, don’t use spiritual energy or spells. If we disturb the mountain’s aura, it could make the climb even harder.” “It’ll think we’re being disrespectful?” “That’s one way to put it.” As he spoke, the Daoist tilted his head slightly and lowered it just enough to meet the cat’s gaze. “You’ve always been a proper and well-mannered cat god, haven’t you?” The Daoist looked away and continued climbing upward. He usually refrained from using magic or spiritual energy when climbing mountains—today was no exception. But even so, he began to feel the fatigue quickly. The mountain grew steeper, making it increasingly difficult to climb. The thinning air made breathing harder—he couldn’t help but pant for breath. His stamina had clearly declined, his muscles fatigued faster, and his recovery slowed, as though here on this mountain, he had truly become an ordinary man without cultivation. Still, thanks to his physique being far beyond that of the average person, the spiritual resonance of this sacred mountain he was meeting for the first time had shown him some degree of leniency. Song You did not resist the process. He turned back to glance at the cat. She was more or less in the same state, clearly feeling exhausted. On top of that, since she was in her original form and not wearing shoes, the scattered stones across the ground were both sharp and uncomfortable on her feet. Some were loose and would suddenly shift under her weight, causing her to stumble. Even though she quickly adjusted each time, the process still made walking all the more troublesome. The swallow had perched on a nearby small branch. The tree was barely half a person tall. Every now and then, the bird would flap its wings and fly ahead of the group, stop and wait for them, then take off again after they caught up, always staying a bit ahead. They walked for what felt like another half a day, though the exact distance was unknown. The sacred mountain loomed closer. Looking up, it now seemed to occupy the entirety of their view. At this point, the majority of the mountain visible to the eye was draped in a coat of snow-white. The dark section they had seen earlier from the Mount Tian pass was nearly behind them. There was almost no vegetation left around them. The ground was covered entirely in dark grey, nearly black gravel. Only next to a few large rocks would the occasional tiny but tenacious plant be seen clinging to life. In shaded areas, snow had accumulated. The swallow was struggling to walk on the ground. The calico cat was clearly exhausted, panting with her tongue out like a dog. When she turned her head and noticed the swallow’s unusual behavior, she was stunned. Her fatigue vanished in an instant, replaced only by confusion and curiosity: “Why aren’t you flying?” “Why meow? Are you tired too?” “It’s too high. I can’t take off.” “Lady Calico, you may not know this,” the swallow said, perching on a rock. Despite clearly being tired, it patiently answered her, speaking in a tone uncannily similar to Song You’s. “Birds can’t just fly as high as they please. Different birds have different capabilities in that regard.” The cat widened her eyes, it seemed this was news to her. The nearby Daoist had also stopped, leaning on his walking staff as he rested and panted, his breath turning to mist. He asked, “How high can a swallow usually fly?” “Ordinary swallows typically stay within a hundred zhang above the ground when hunting or playing. If absolutely necessary, at most—at most—they can reach a little over a thousand zhang,” the swallow said. This time, the stammer in its words wasn’t from nervousness, but simply from struggling to catch its breath. “As for me, I can usually fly up to several thousand zhang high. But it seems... things are different here.” Song You nodded thoughtfully, leaning on his staff. The swallow had already been struggling to stay airborne some distance back—it had been unable to fly for a while now and was merely hopping along. Coupled with the fact that there was now almost no vegetation around them—not even moss—it was possible to make a rough judgment about their current elevation. Using Great Yan’s system of measurement, they were likely somewhere between fifteen hundred to two thousand zhang above sea level. By the standards of his previous life, this would be roughly an altitude of five thousand meters. And still, the snow-capped mountain ahead towered higher. There was still a considerable distance and elevation to go before they reached a point from which a full-day charge could bring them to the summit. A soft, delicate voice came from the side—it was the calico cat, clearly a bit weak. “Wouldn’t that mean if I pounced on you, I could catch you just like that? You can’t fly, you can’t run fast, you wouldn’t be able to escape at all.” The swallow felt both tense and numb inside. “Lady Calico, don’t scare the swallow,” Song You glanced at it, knowing full well that swallows had very little strength in their legs and weren’t good at walking or jumping. “If you’re too tired, go ride on the horse’s back. Walking and climbing mountains were never a bird’s strong suit.” “I can still keep going a while longer.” “I was lying to him,” the calico cat sighed. “I’m also dead tired.” “But I must not get careless!” “Hang in there, Lady Calico,” Song You didn’t try to persuade her to stop anymore. “Even mortals can climb to the top. You were once the Cat God and are gifted by nature—how can you give up so easily?” “That’s right!” The cat’s expression instantly turned solemn. “Let’s go.” The Daoist had rested enough and resumed walking. Each breath came out as a puff of white mist—the higher they climbed, the more exhausted they became. Though the air was clearly cold, the exertion drained their strength so rapidly that they couldn’t help but sweat. As soon as their sweat soaked through their clothes, the wind would blow, and it felt as though it had frozen—chill and biting, leeching away their body heat. After walking a while, they would have to rest again. “The divine glacial lake...” The Daoist frequently looked up, gazing into the distance. Since the glacial spiritual resonance was said to lie within the sacred mountain, it surely couldn't be at the very summit. The peak was so sharp that only a few people could stand atop it—how could there possibly be a glacial lake up there? It had to be somewhere at the base of the mountain. It was just that the mountain was far too vast. The merchants at the chema inn had said, “It takes two to three hundred li just to circle the mountain.” It was perhaps a bit of an exaggeration, but not by much. Even though Song You had already climbed to this height, to circle the mountain now would still likely take at least several dozen li. And yet, he still had no idea where that divine glacial lake might be. The Daoist, however, wasn’t in any hurry. This was a journey of seeking, and one had to leave it to fate. If they happened to come across it along the way, that would be ideal. But even if they didn’t, he intended to climb the mountain regardless. Once he reached the summit, even if clouds blocked the view below, he would already be at the peak of the sacred mountain, where all spiritual energy converged. At that point, whether the divine glacial lake or the glacial spiritual resonance was near, he would surely sense it. At some point, the ground had become completely covered in snow. The snow was getting deeper and deeper. Before their eyes, the world had turned into a vast expanse of white, and walking became increasingly difficult. The Daoist panted for breath, but his expression remained calm and composed. The cat and the swallow both followed him closely. A line of footprints trailed behind them in the snow. And this was only the beginning. The heavens were ever-changing, and the weather in the mountains was even more capricious. At some point, a wind picked up in the world around them. In an instant, the previously clear weather turned murky. Above their heads, dark clouds rolled and churned, and from time to time, flashes of lightning streaked across the sky—so close it felt like they exploded right beside their ears. The world turned heavy and oppressive, as though the end of days had arrived. The wind howled so fiercely it became difficult to even stand upright. A bolt of lightning split the sky overhead. Snow began to fall in feathery flakes, and fog rose, shrinking their visibility once more. The world grew darker, murkier. Amidst this world—at the foot of the sacred mountain, on the back of a snow-covered slope—a Daoist walked bent over, leaning on his staff, pressing forward against the wind and snow. His steps remained steady and firm. Behind him, a dark red horse carried a heavy load. The calico cat, almost half-buried in the snow, had her fur tossed about by the wind, eyes narrowed against the cold. And a swallow that was constantly on the verge of being blown away by the gusts still struggled on behind him. “It’s already autumn...” Song You looked up at the thunderclouds overhead and murmured to himself. The cold wind quickly stripped the moisture and warmth from his body, reddening his face and chapping his lips. Beneath his thick Daoist robe, he had layered several garments and even draped a paper cloak over his shoulders. Snow gathered thickly on his head and shoulders. “Want me to carry you?” “I can walk on my own,” the cat said from where she was sunken in the snow. Her voice was already soft and delicate, and the wind nearly carried it away completely. Luckily, they were close enough that he could barely make out what she said. “Perhaps this snow mountain really values us—treating us like honored guests, giving us a grand welcome,” Song You looked around at the wind and snow again, his expression showing not the slightest hint of retreat. “We can’t let down such warm hospitality, can we?” “Did you see a stone wall ahead earlier? I think there’s a cave there. We’ll rest there for today. Once we’re well rested, we’ll climb to the summit in one go.” In the distance, thunder and lightning exploded across the sky. A full-on blizzard seemed to be brewing. Up ahead was the resting spot the Daoist had picked earlier. Back when the weather had still been good, he’d seen a section of stone wall there—its angle made it unlikely to be hit by an avalanche. There was a faintly visible cave in the wall, though it was unclear whether it had formed naturally or had been left behind by some senior cultivator. Song You intended to check it out. Judging by the distance, it should’ve been less than a li away. But now, battling fierce winds, trudging through snow, and with the air growing ever thinner, it took them nearly half an hour of walking and stopping to reach it. It seemed the old saying about “getting dull-headed at high altitudes” had come true again—or maybe they were simply too exhausted. The calico cat had stopped talking altogether. She simply followed the Daoist—when he walked, she walked; when he stopped, she stopped. Whenever they paused, she would just stand there, motionless, a blank look on her face. The swallow was having an even harder time. Finally, through the murky, dim world, a nearly black stone wall came faintly into view. The Daoist took a deep breath and made his way over. He followed the wall, and at last found the cave they’d seen earlier. It was indeed a cave. Its mouth was irregular, over half a zhang in diameter, and it extended two or three zhang deep. The inside twisted slightly and was just as uneven. There were signs that many people had stayed here before—it seemed to be a natural cave that had later been shaped and expanded by human hands, turning it into a rest stop for climbers. Song You looked back at the dazed cat, lowered his head a little, and stepped inside. The cat snapped out of it and hurried to follow. “Whew...” The Daoist finally let out a breath of relief. The cave wasn’t necessarily warmer than outside, but the fierce, manic wind couldn’t reach them here. With the howling winds silenced, the place felt calm. As their body heat began to return, it naturally felt warmer. “Whew...” The cat mimicked his sigh, then toppled over to the side, slumping softly to the ground. Her expression was blank, eyes unfocused, and she didn’t speak a word. She really looked like she’d gone stupid.