Everything had changed.
When Jiang Zhaoye opened his eyes, the first thing he felt was cold.
Clusters of icicles hung suspended across his field of vision, dangling at varying lengths. Tendrils of misty chill drifted and swirled around them, yet they did not look chaotic or terrifying; instead, they carried an indescribable rhythm, evoking the ethereal, otherworldly elegance of the Lunar Palace.
In this time and place, however, Jiang Zhaoye was in no position to appreciate the scenery. He felt like he was about to freeze solid.
He struggled to flip over like a frozen fish. Glancing to the side, he saw he was lying atop a sheet of grayish-white ice. The ice was thick, with the fractured grain of frozen rock faintly visible beneath.
He was wearing only a short-sleeved T-shirt and boxer shorts, without even shoes on his feet.
Jiang Zhaoye: “...”
Struggling to his feet with great effort, he rubbed repeatedly at the goosebumps covering his arms. Bare feet stepping on the icy surface, he hopped in place from the freezing cold.
“Is anyone there?” he called out tentatively.
The only response was his own echo, rippling layer by layer into the distance before vanishing into the depths of the cavern.
He began to take in his surroundings.
The scene before him served as a constant reminder that he was no longer at home... and probably not even in Huaicheng.
Huaicheng in August was still in the middle of summer break, hot enough to rain fire from the heavens.
Yet where he found himself now was a frozen cavern.
It seemed to be a naturally formed cave. The entrance was not large, situated just a few paces behind him.
A thick wall of ice blocked the opening. One could vaguely peer out at the outside world, but everything was hazy and indistinct.
Jiang Zhaoye exhaled a puff of white vapor, wrapped his arms around himself, and crept forward cautiously.
The space ahead grew wider the further he walked, and faint traces of manual excavation became visible along the icy walls on either side. A few sections had been chiseled flat, inscribed with winding runes that were obscured beneath layers of ice and difficult to make out.
The icy ground beneath his feet was uneven—ridges jutting out in some spots, depressions sinking down in others, covered in a thin dusting of frost. It was frigid and slick. Barefoot, he stumbled along awkwardly, nearly doing the splits several times, and had to brace himself against the biting, freezing ice walls for support.
At the end of the day, Jiang Zhaoye was just a middle school graduate who had finished the high school entrance exams—a kid who had just turned fourteen. At most, he had practiced attribute conversion for a single month, having not even stepped across the threshold of the extraordinary. With his mortal flesh and bone, he couldn't withstand this freezing cold at all.
Stumbling along for about three to five minutes, Jiang Zhaoye's face had already turned pale and blue from the cold before the space ahead abruptly opened up.
This was a sizeable stone chamber.
In a place like this, there were actually signs that someone had lived here long-term... Were they cavemen?
Several glowing pearls were embedded in the ceiling. The light was not bright, but it was enough to see the chamber's layout clearly. He hurried inside, shivering as he looked around, and only then realized that he was no longer treading on ice, but on neatly laid stone slabs.
The surfaces of the stone slabs were densely engraved with patterns and unfamiliar runes. They carried an ancient charm, looking like some kind of formation out of a fantasy novel.
He suddenly didn't feel quite as cold. Rubbing his stiff, frozen face, he carefully wandered forward.
Around him were floor-standing lamps, incense burners, and gauzy curtains made of an unknown material.
Jiang Zhaoye wanted to tear down a curtain to wrap around himself for warmth, but the moment he touched it, it felt like grabbing frozen meat barehanded. The shock of icy cold made him flinch, and he let go immediately.
After a few more steps, he spotted a wide stone table behind a curtain, neatly yet haphazardly covered with various items.
A brush rack filled with writing brushes, an inkstone with dried ink, a bamboo cylinder holding several brushes, an incense burner, sheets of paper, books, a paperweight, several jade stones of varying shapes, an exquisitely embroidered pouch... Beneath all these items was even a tablecloth made of exceptional material.
Jiang Zhaoye flipped through a few of the books and sheets of written paper on the stone table, only to discover that he couldn't recognize a single word.
It was clearly another, entirely unfamiliar script, unlike any writing he had ever seen in his memory, and completely different in style even from the runes carved into the stone slabs beneath his feet.
Jiang Zhaoye had an ominous premonition.
Tropes from the novels and anime he had consumed growing up bombarded his mind. “Did I... transmigrate?”
He gave a dry laugh to comfort himself. “No way, no way... That's probably impossible... right...?”
Out of one concern or another, Jiang Zhaoye, who had originally intended to yank the tablecloth off and drape it over himself, decided against it in the end.
There was too much clutter on the table. If he really had transmigrated, accidentally triggering some mechanism or formation might easily get him killed.
In an unfamiliar place, playing it safe was also a fine virtue.
Behind the wide table sat a chair, and beyond that stood a beautiful five-fold folding screen.
There seemed to be more space behind the screen, and Jiang Zhaoye instinctively rounded it.
Only to nearly jump out of his skin in fright.
Not far away was a white jade bed, and sitting upon it was a person who was quite literally down to the bone.
To be precise, a solitary skeleton was sitting there.
The skeleton remained in a cross-legged position, its spine straight, hand bones resting folded over its knee bones. The bones were slender and as luminous as jade, complementing the chilled jade bed beneath it. It was apparent that in life, this had been a rather slender person. The clothing on its body had long since rotted away, leaving only a few scraps of fabric clinging to the bones, faded beyond recognition.
Creeped out from head to toe, he stood beside the folding screen, back pressed against the icy stone wall. Unsure whether to advance or retreat, he stared at the skeleton and swallowed hard.
Jiang Zhaoye was scared out of his wits.
Yet a cat-like curiosity urged him, as if guided by ghosts and gods, to take a few steps closer.
He clearly saw that upon the jade-carved, pure-white skeleton grew faint, enigmatic patterns of ice-blue. Those patterns held a bizarre beauty, every stroke unfolding with profound mystery; after looking for only a moment, Jiang Zhaoye felt dizzy and faint, and he hastily tore his gaze away.
Only then did he notice various items scattered around the skeleton.
Several jade vials of varying sizes lay around—some tipped open on their sides, others still plugged with wooden stoppers. A few jade slips, some broken and others intact, were strewn across the jade bed; some were dull, faded, and nearly petrified, while others still gleamed with a gentle, flowing luster.
At the edge of the bed lay a palm-sized bronze mirror placed face-down, its back covered in green verdigris.
In the corner of the cave abode, several wooden chests were stacked together with their lids half-open, revealing an assortment of jars, bottles, and scattered odds and ends inside.
Jiang Zhaoye stood there, his heart thumping violently against his ribs, beating faster and faster as his throat tightened with dryness.
He looked down at his hands, where faint traces of dried blood still lingered. He looked up again at the white skeleton and the jade slips on the stone table, his mind a chaotic mess.
“...What's going on?”
His voice echoed twice around the cavern before gradually dissipating into the dim air.
Nobody answered him.
He hesitated for a long while, taking several deep breaths to force himself to calm down. Regardless of where this place was or what was happening, standing around dazed clearly wasn't going to solve anything.
After giving himself a lengthy pep talk, Jiang Zhaoye wiped his face and tiptoed toward the jade bed.
After a nerve-racking tactical maneuver, he halted cautiously half a meter from the jade bed. Stretching out an arm, he poked the bronze mirror and yanked his hand back like lightning.
Once he thoroughly confirmed that nothing was wrong with his hand, he snatched up the bronze mirror with lightning speed and retreated in a flash.
Only after backing up behind the folding screen did he begin to examine the bronze mirror in his hands closely.
Carved onto the verdigris-encrusted back was an exquisite lotus motif, its petals layered and flowing with refined elegance. He turned it over; surprisingly, the mirror surface was not completely rusted or tarnished, still able to cast a reflection.
Caught off guard, Jiang Zhaoye met his own reflection in the mirror and froze in horror—
His right eye, which was originally black, was now the shade of a frozen blue lake.
Rate on N.U.
