The journey from Cold Frost Cave to Misty Peak isn’t all that far, but trekking through the mountains is a whole different story—especially with a hundred people winding along twisty trails. Even marching overnight, it’d take a full day. To keep everyone’s spirits up, Jill Young decided to take it slow and steady, aiming to reach Misty Peak in a day and a half, maybe two.
Heading to Misty Peak, the team included sixty female disciples from Cold Frost Cave, twenty male disciples, and twenty folks under William Bo—so, a hundred in total. The sixty girls wore their usual blue uniforms, but the twenty guys got decked out in random rebel gear. Thanks to Iron Tyrant and William Bo’s picky eye, none of the guys’ outfits had obvious island-faction logos, so when mixed with William Bo’s crew, they looked the part.
"Remember, you’re the surprise squad. Blend in—don’t give yourselves away, got it?" Jill Young started handing out field tips, using the march to teach these rookies some basics. She wasn’t exactly a master of medieval warfare, but she was still way ahead of these one-on-one swordplay types. At least she could drill them on the simplest commands.
She and Wu Zhengfeng also switched into Cold Frost Cave uniforms, planning to slip in with the girls’ squad. Problem was, Wu Zhengfeng was so tiny that the uniform looked like a sack with a head poking out, while Jill Young’s was so tight it could barely stretch over her tall frame.
Any casual stretch, and Jill Young’s uniform would rip right at the waist, showing off a flash of pale skin. Not that she was bothered by the cold, but she couldn’t help but roll her eyes. "Back in the modern world, a five-foot-nine girl isn’t rare, and finding clothes is easy. Who knew it’d be such a pain here?"
"Count your blessings. Cold Frost Cave’s leader is tall, so you can at least squeeze in. If you landed on Hibiscus Island, you’d be running around naked for sure." Wu Zhengfeng still hadn’t let go of that whole swaddling-clothes joke, and had even picked up the term ‘streaking’. She didn’t have to streak now, but flapping her sleeves like some cloud-drifting fairy was still pretty annoying.
No way around it—Jill didn’t want her waist exposed, and Elder Tong (Wu Zhengfeng) couldn’t walk. So they stuck together, tying a silk sash around Jill’s waist to strap Wu Zhengfeng onto her back. It worked out for both of them.
These days, Wu Zhengfeng had been using Jill’s blood for training—just half a drop at a time did wonders. Her power came back fast, way better than any other blood type. But something seemed off with her physical growth. After the battle, she should’ve looked about six years old, but she barely hit five—still super cute.
At five or six, you really can’t tell much difference, so none of the Cold Frost Cave folks noticed. But Jill was curious: "Hey, sister, if you get all your power back, what’ll you look like? Wrinkly old lady?" Ninety-six years old, covered in age spots, wouldn’t be too far off. "Too bad this adorable baby face will be ancient in three months—maybe just quit training and stick with the cute look." She pinched Elder Tong’s cheek, really as soft as a fresh bun.
Women always want to look good, no matter how old. Wu Zhengfeng instantly slapped Jill’s hand away. "No way! I started training the Supreme Technique at eleven, spent fifteen years to master it, and hit twenty-six. After that, my looks are locked at twenty-six—no matter how many times I cycle through, I’ll always look twenty-six. Unless I lose all my power, you’ll never see me wrinkled."
"Forever twenty-six?" Jill Young perked up. "Girl, you hit the jackpot! That’s seventy extra years of prime time. Your classmates must be so jealous!"
Wu Zhengfeng tossed her head proudly, then sighed. "Not much prime time, really. I wanted to master it before eighteen… but oh well."
People in ancient times saw age differently. Twenty-six in the modern world is just getting started—maybe a little mature, but still golden years. In big cities, you’re basically still a kid. But back in the day, twenty-six was way past the ‘prime marriage market’—practically senior status.
Just look at how nobody questions Jill Young’s authority—her age helps. If she were ten years younger, even with the same skills, people would doubt her. Age is its own kind of currency.
"So, what’s your plan for backing up Spirit Eagle Palace?" Wu Zhengfeng glanced at the marching squad. "Your setup’s got me scratching my head."
"Want to know how I’ll help Spirit Eagle Palace? Haha, just listen to me—" Jill Young pointed her sword and launched into a dramatic tune (Red Lantern style). Since she’d sung the first half, why not belt out the rest? It fit the mood: "I’ll give you brains and guts, danger’s nothing! To crush bandits, first dress up as one—like a sharp blade, stabbing into Tiger… uh, Walter Huan! Swear to bury the Brainstormer gang in the mountains. Ambition shakes the peaks, courage rocks the abyss. When I join my comrades at—" Jill paused, grinning awkwardly. "Hey, what’s the landmark at Spirit Eagle Palace?"
Wu Zhengfeng squinted, mimicking Jill: "Immortal Sun Hall."
"Great!" Jill clapped and kept singing: "When I join my comrades at Immortal Sun Hall, we’ll smash the bandit den till the world flips upside down!" Her voice rang out, and though the tune was odd, the squad couldn’t help but get fired up.
Only Wu Zhengfeng grumbled, "Bandit den? That’s my home!"
After two days’ march, Misty Peak finally came into view. Jill Young told everyone to hide and avoid being spotted by the enemy up the mountain. If discovered, Walter Huan would handle it—or, worst case, wipe out everyone. Either way, nobody should blow their cover before she got back. She strapped Elder Tong to her back and went up the mountain alone to scout.
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Misty Peak was ridiculously steep—like a lone sword stabbing the sky. Seriously, it was so tall it looked fake, shooting straight into the clouds. With storm clouds above, you couldn’t even see the summit. Does Tianshan Mountain really have peaks this wild?
"Girl, you really live in a place this high up in the clouds?"
"Of course not. Spirit Eagle Palace is on Misty Peak, but not at the very top. Most of it’s on the lower slopes—otherwise, the junior maids would freeze before they ever learned kung fu."
The mountain path wasn’t too rough—in fact, it looked like someone had paved it on purpose, nice and wide. But the ground was a mess of footprints: big ones, weird ones, horse hooves, wagon tracks—you name it.
"So how many rebels are there, really?"
"Walter Huan can only rally so many island lords. Even if everyone shows up, it’s about a thousand people. We’ve already taken out four hundred, so there shouldn’t be more than six hundred left."
"But judging by these tracks… there’s no way that’s just six hundred." Jill Young wasn’t exactly an expert in ancient forensics, but this felt like a real army on the move—she half-expected to see siege engines next.
After another few miles, they reached the Freewind Sect’s mountain gate—a big archway with a ten-man squad on guard. Most looked like classic martial artists, all casual and loose, but three had that military vibe. They were chatting with the others, but you could just tell they were different.
Jill Young and Wu Zhengfeng exchanged a glance and snuck closer. The gate was wedged between a cliff and a wall—no other way through, and even a master of lightfoot kung fu couldn’t sneak past in broad daylight. But Jill just dropped down to the cliffside, which was slick as glass, and used two short spears to shimmy along. Problem solved.
After the gate, just a couple more miles and the noise of a huge crowd hit their ears. Peeking through the leaves, Jill Young’s jaw dropped. "This is your ‘less than six hundred’?"
Ahead was a real military camp—rows of tents, a proper setup. Just eyeballing it, there were at least eight hundred people, and who knew how many more beyond that.
"Girl, you gotta admit—Walter Huan’s reinforcements may not be kung fu masters, but they’re way more dangerous for you: a real, honest-to-goodness army."