The World in the Palm of Your Hand

"You wretched brat, you turtle spawn, hand over the Three Treasures at once! This seat may show great mercy and let you die intact!" A white-robed elder spoke in a deep voice, his presence soaring to the heavens, his words resounding like thunder.

He waved a goose-feather fan, three silver whiskers hanging from his chin, his face youthful and his hair white as a crane’s. Though he uttered coarse curses in rage, it did not diminish his celestial bearing—he seemed every inch the immortal sage of the fairy realms, a master from the Isle of Penglai. At first glance, he inspired awe and reverence, as if a deity had descended among mortals. Amid the snow-blanketed earth, the man and the scene blended perfectly, evoking an ethereal atmosphere. Yet, at this very moment, a chorus of shouting shattered the tranquility without mercy—

"Master Xing Su, boundless power, wretched turtle, meet your end swiftly!"

"Master Xing Su, supreme skill, petty thief, prepare to die!"

"Master Xing Su, benevolent heart, surrender the Three Treasures, and you may keep your corpse whole!"

Looking out, there were perhaps more than thirty men, all shouting and clamoring, their momentum overwhelming. The thirty formed a semicircle, brandishing broad blades with a madness in their demeanor, yet not one dared to charge forward and strike, as if wary of something.

The wind atop the Heavenly Mountains was cold, biting as ice. This was Tomur Peak, the highest summit, steep and snowbound, where even northern geese could not pass. Even