"This woman," Han Yu said, "was she wearing a veil, dressed in white, and spoke with a cold voice?"
The spirit tilted its head. "You know her?"
"Know her?" Han Yu smirked. "I can see her."
And then he dropped.
WHISTLE
He cut his Qi suddenly and fell straight down like a stone.
The spirit blinked in confusion.
Then it felt it.
A killing intent colder than the mountains.
SHING
It jerked sideways just as a massive blade of pure ice ripped through the air where it had been, stretching nearly ten meters long.
The ice blade carved through clouds and snow, leaving a freezing trail behind.
"Damn you, bitch! You're back again!?" the Evil Mountain Spirit roared.
Han Yu twisted in midair and stabilized himself, looking up.
There she was.
Madam Cold Fang.
Hovering in the sky, her white robes fluttering like ghostly silk, cold ice Qi coiling around her like living serpents.
Her veil hid most of her face, but her eyes were sharp and calm.
