The night air outside the Outer Candidate Quarters cut like a blade, sharper than any Lin Tian remembered from Cloudcrest. He pulled his plain gray cloak tighter, the coarse wool doing little against the spiritual chill that seeped from the very stones of the Azure Snow Sect. His breath fogged in the air, each exhale a tiny plume of defiance against the frozen silence.
He moved like a shadow, sticking to the narrow alleys between dormitory buildings, his footsteps silent on the packed snow. The maintenance token for the North Peak vents was a cold, heavy weight in his inner pocket, a promise of relief from the black veins crawling up his arm. The curse throbbed in time with his heartbeat, a dull, icy ache he had learned to ignore for minutes at a time.
Just get to the service path. Follow the markers. Don't be seen.
He rounded a corner and froze.
