"Snap." As soon as Evan Yang put his hand on the vine, it broke, making his face change and sending a jolt of pain through his hand. If he didn’t find another way up soon, he’d probably run out of strength and fall off the cliff anyway.
Having faced countless hardships since childhood, Evan wasn’t scared off by the challenge in front of him. He tried a few more vines, and finally, after searching through a tangled mess, found one that was tough enough. Grabbing it with one hand, he let go with the other, and jumped along the cliff wall toward the wooden vine.
When Evan jumped over, he realized the vine was too short to climb all the way up. "I don’t want to die here," he muttered, gritting his teeth and scanning the area. Just then, he spotted a small hole hidden among some thick branches beside him. "Huh?"
Evan had seen these branches before when picking herbs, but they were so dense he never noticed the hole hidden behind them. Now, seeing a possible chance for survival, he didn’t hesitate. He gripped the vine tightly, swung back and forth, and after several tries finally managed to touch the hole with his feet.
Anyone watching would have broken out in a cold sweat—at this moment, Evan Yang was truly gambling with his life. He knew the risk, but had no time for hesitation: all that mattered was survival. He carefully lined himself up with the cave entrance, tested his swing several times, and, after confirming the angle, let out a shout, released the vine, and hurled his entire body in a desperate arc—like a thrown stone—crashing straight into the mouth of the cave.
"Bang!" Evan dropped into the hole, slamming into the rocky wall. "Ow!"
Despite the pain, Evan forced himself up and looked around. He saw a small tunnel stretching upward. "Is there actually a way out up there?"
Gritting his teeth, Evan walked over. The tunnel was damp, probably because it was inside the mountain, and moss covered the walls. He could even feel drops of water trickling down, as if the rocks were sweating.
Clinging to the slippery rock wall, Evan struggled upward like a mudfish. When he finally reached level ground, he found himself in a dim space. Only a few faint beams of light shone through cracks in the rock—there was no other light source. Curious, Evan stepped out from the wall, looked around, and realized he was in what felt like a sealed stone chamber.
Evan stared in disbelief, his breath caught in his throat. Just ahead stood a three-meter-tall block of ice—utterly untouched by any sign of melting, and radiating a chilling aura so intense that he felt a primal fear, as if the cold itself warned him not to come closer. The sight filled him with awe and shock, making the whole chamber seem otherworldly.
The young Evan slowly walked toward the ice block. When he got close, he was stunned—by the faint light, he could see a person inside. He reflexively cried out, "Ah!" and stumbled back a few steps.
He scanned the chamber, then looked again at the figure sealed in ice, making sure no other living things lurked nearby. Evan stepped closer for a careful inspection. Inside the ice was a man—his skin flawless, appearing like any middle-aged person, but with snow-white hair and eyebrows. His eyes were tightly shut, as if he were a slumbering immortal, untouched by time.
Evan reached out and felt the cold aura. Though it was cold, it didn’t hurt him—instead, it felt incredibly soothing, cool and comfortable. To his surprise, the wounds on his hand started healing, and even his blood seemed to freeze in place. The phenomenon shocked him.
Just as Evan leaned in for a closer look at the ice block, a hoarse voice suddenly echoed, "Who are you?"