Chapter 1

In the dead of winter, thick snowflakes drifted silently from the sky.
Inside Fuwang City, towering walls and rugged stone sculptures lay blanketed in white. Vision blurred into chaos; earth and sky alike, all wrapped in silver silence.
“Master, what are you looking at?” A creaky, stiff voice sounded atop the city’s heights, punctuated by an odd clicking noise.
The speaker was a tiny puppet construct. With each open and close of its jaw, the aged joints creaked unpleasantly. In today’s Fuwang City, even the lowest-ranked demonic cultivator would sneer at such outdated puppets, long since cast aside by progress.
“Watching the snow,” a man replied softly.
No one knew how long the man in the heavy cloak had sat there, snow piling endlessly on hood and shoulders, even dusting his long eyelashes with silver. In the swirl of flurries, his pale face half-hidden beneath the hood’s shadow; unexpectedly young and strikingly handsome.
The little puppet sat idly on its master’s shoulder. For all its master’s qualities, this strange hobby, watching snowfall for hours, defied explanation.
Beneath their feet sprawled the dim, tumultuous Fuwang City: the capital of demonic cultivators.
Here, the cold never broke, the sky forever heavy. Most days it was rain, snow, or just endless gray. After so many winters, the puppet really couldn’t fathom what its master saw in staring at the monotonous snow, again and again, year after year.