As Morning light broke faintly through the clouds, pale and cold. Snow still covered the roofs and courtyards, and mist curled along the edges of the forest.
Fu Yang stepped out of his room, closing the wooden door behind him. His breath turned to white fog as he walked toward the academy ground, where dozens of disciples had already gathered. Their voices mixed with the clatter of tools and the sharp crunch of boots over frost.
"Form your groups quickly!" a disciple shouted, his voice hoarse from the chill. "We leave for the forest at once!"
Fu Yang joined the others silently. His eyes lifted briefly toward the horizon —dark pines heavy with snow, their tips lost in fog.
The elders arrived soon after, and the disciples bowed. Head Master Xiang's expression was weary but stern, the lines on his face deeper than before. He raised his hand, and the noise died instantly.
"Today," he said, his voice steady but hard, "no one will go deeper into the mountain. We will not scatter in search.The only thing we will do today is clear the cave completely. Not one speck of snow will remain. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Head Master!" the disciples replied in unison, their voices echoing through the frosty air.
Then the group of eighty disciples began their march through the snow. Tools clanged softly, breaths came in misty clouds, and the sound of their boots formed a rhythmic beat on the frozen ground.
When they reached the mouth of the cave, the wind howled through it like a long, mournful cry. The snow around the entrance was thick and untouched, piled high from the last storm.
Head Master Xiang stood at the front, his hands clasped behind his back. He stared at the cave for a long time before whispering something that only the elders near him could hear.
Fu Yang watched from a distance. He saw the subtle movement of Xiang's lips—praying, probably. To the God of Mercy again.
Fu Yang thought. "He still believes the heavens will pity him."
"Everyone, start clearing it out!" Xiang ordered at last. "Work carefully. Do not damage the structure!"
The disciples obeyed immediately. Shovels and stools struck the snow, breaking through layers of ice and stone. Fu Yang joined in, though he kept himself outside the cave where the snow was lighter and the danger smaller.
He scooped the snow with calm movements, watching the cave entrance from time to time. Inside, he could already hear faint cracking sounds—tiny fractures forming deep in the frozen walls.
Too much weight, he thought quietly. If they dig any deeper without support, the roof will fall.
"Hey, pass the torch here!" a voice called. "It's getting darker near the middle!"
Another disciple ran forward, handing over a burning stick. "Here! Be careful—there's ice forming above!"
Hours passed like this. The sound of scraping, digging, and breaking filled the forest. The disciples' robes were soaked with melted snow, their hands raw from cold. Yet none complained.
By noon, the cave's entrance was fully cleared, revealing its dark throat—wide and shadowed, like the mouth of a sleeping beast.
Head Master Xiang's eyes brightened with hope. He clasped his hands together and muttered again, barely breathing the words. "Oh God of Mercy, please… please let the frogs be here."
The elders exchanged uneasy glances but said nothing.
"Enter," Xiang commanded. "Search every corner. Leave nothing unturned."
The disciples hesitated for a moment, then began to move. Groups of five and six stepped cautiously inside, carrying torches and lanterns.
Cin Yan stood near the entrance, arms crossed. Her companions—Shi Tian, Sha Tian, and Mo Rian—remained beside her. Le Wei also stayed outside, wiping sweat from his forehead.
"Why aren't you going in?" asked a younger disciple as he passed.
Cin Yan gave him a cool glance. "Because I prefer not to die under a pile of rocks."
The boy blinked. "What do you mean?"
"Listen carefully," she said. "That cave hasn't been stable for days. Look at the cracks along the top."
He looked up—and paled. Thin, spider-web lines stretched across the frozen stone ceiling.
"B-But Head Master—"
"Head Master believes in prayers," she interrupted coldly. "I believe in walls not falling on my head."
Fu Yang heard their words but didn't look their way. He simply watched .
Inside, torches flickered, casting orange light across the walls. The disciples moved deeper, their breaths echoing softly. The air was damp and cold; droplets of water clung to the ceiling like tears.
"Over here!" someone shouted. "I think I see something!"
The echo carried outward, and a ripple of excitement spread among those still outside.
"Did they find them?" one whispered.
"Maybe… maybe it's finally over."
..
Inside the cave, six disciples had reached a deeper section where the walls narrowed. There, several holes dotted the surface like old burrows.
"Look!" a girl exclaimed, holding her torch closer. "There's something inside those!"
Three of the holes glimmered faintly, light reflecting off round shapes within.
The group froze, eyes wide.
"Could it be… the frogs?" one whispered, his voice trembling with excitement.
The leader, a tall young man with a scar on his cheek, stepped forward, squinting into the hole. "It must be. Look at the shape—it's the same as the frogs described by head master!"
The girl bit her lip. "We should inform Head Master right now."
But the leader turned sharply, his expression hard. "No. We'll take them ourselves and present them to him. Do you understand what that means? If we bring the frogs personally, we'll be rewarded. The Head Master will remember our names."
"But—"
He slammed his hand against the wall beside her, the sound echoing through the cave. "No arguments! Help me widen the hole. Quickly!"
The girl swallowed her protest, fear flickering in her eyes. The others hesitated, but greed soon won over caution.
They began to strike the wall, using their tools to chip away the frozen rock. Each hit sent small vibrations through the cave. Dust fell from above, sprinkling their hair and shoulders.
"Careful," one of them muttered, glancing upward. "It's cracking."
"It's fine," the leader snapped. "Just a little more!"
Outside, Fu Yang felt the subtle tremor under his feet—barely noticeable to others but clear to him.
He thought, narrowing his eyes. (They're digging right under the main support.)
The wind shifted, blowing a faint trail of dust from the cave mouth. Cin Yan noticed it immediately. Her hand went to her sword. "Everyone, back away from the entrance," she ordered.
"What's wrong?" Le Wei asked, frowning.
"The ground's trembling."
He looked confused but obeyed, motioning for others to step aside.
Inside, the six disciples were still hacking at the wall, breathing hard. The glow in the holes seemed to pulse faintly, feeding their excitement.
"Almost there!" the leader shouted, sweat dripping down his face. "Once we pull them out, we'll be heroes of the academy!"
The girl looked uneasy. "Something doesn't feel right."
"Stop imagining things!"
Another disciple raised his pickaxe, striking the wall again. This time, a low groan echoed through the entire cave.
And from out side they heard the shouts of head master xiang, shouting at them.
" stop you fools and come out immediately."
Everyone froze.
"What… what was that?"
" Did you hear something"
Before anyone could answer, a thin line of dust trickled down from above, followed by a sharp crack.
Fu Yang looked up. The snow above the cave's mouth shifted slightly. His grip tightened on the handle of his shovel.
It's starting.
"Out!" Cin Yan's voice rang out suddenly, loud and clear. "Everyone get out of the cave now!"
Her command startled those near the entrance. Several disciples turned toward her, confusion written across their faces.
"Why? What happened?"
"The cave is collapsing! Move!" head master xiang shouted.
Panic spread instantly. Disciples near the entrance dropped their tools and rushed out. But deeper inside, the six who had found the holes were too far to hear her clearly.
"something really not right?" the girl asked, eyes darting toward the passage.
The leader ignored her. "One more strike! Just one more!"
He raised his tool and slammed it against the stone with all his strength.
A thunderous crack exploded overhead.
The cave roared like a beast awakening. Rocks broke loose from the ceiling, crashing to the ground. The torches wavered and went out one by one. Screams filled the darkness.
"Run! Run!" someone yelled.
Dust and snow burst outward from the entrance as the ground trembled violently. Fu Yang stepped back, shielding his face from the gust of air. Large chunks of rock tumbled out, scattering across the clearing.
Head Master Xiang shouted from behind, "What happened?! Who's still inside?!"
No one answered—only the echo of collapsing stone and the muffled cries of those trapped within.
Fu Yang lowered his hand slowly, his expression calm. His eyes reflected the falling snow, faintly silver in the light.
"How many will die?"
The disciples outside rushed forward, trying to dig through the rubble, calling out names. Cin Yan held them back. "Don't! The structure's still collapsing!"
"But they'll die inside!" one protested, eyes wide with panic.
"If you go in now, you'll die too!" she snapped. "Wait until it settles!"
Xiang stood frozen, his hands trembling slightly. The prayer he had whispered earlier still hung unfinished on his lips.
Fu Yang watched them quietly, saying nothing. His gaze flicked briefly toward the mountain's shadow, where snow was still falling softly. He knew exactly what had happened—those "round shapes" weren't frogs at all, merely stones covered with faint minerals that reflected light.
The greed of a few had triggered the fall.
Fu Yang turned his head slightly, watching as the dust began to settle over the broken cave. Cries grew softer, replaced by stunned silence.