Chapter Four: The Capture Operation

Hearing Ziling’s excited cry, Yang Yan quickly focused his gaze in the direction she was pointing. Sure enough, beneath a pine tree, a rabbit with a coat as white as snow was crouching on its forelegs, seemingly nibbling on a pine cone. What was even more enchanting was that, under the gentle morning sunlight, its body shimmered with a faint, snowy glow, like drifting snowflakes—an unmistakable trait of the “Phantom Snow Rabbit.”

“It’s just too adorable! Brother Yang Yan, you can’t let it escape!”

At this moment, the “Phantom Snow Rabbit” was about two hundred paces away from them. Though Ziling tried to keep her voice down for fear of startling the little creature, her face brimmed with excitement, and the way she clung painfully to Yang Yan’s right arm made it clear just how thrilled she was.

“Girls really have no resistance to anything fuzzy...” Yang Yan couldn’t help but grumble inwardly.

“All right, you stay here and don’t run around. Wait for me to come back!” Yang Yan, looking at Ziling’s starry-eyed enthusiasm, could only offer a helpless reminder.

In truth, Ziling had once trained alongside Yang Yan, but being a girl, she soon found the body-forging regimen too grueling. The core of such cultivation is steady, diligent practice to strengthen the body, preparing it to withstand the influx of spiritual energy upon entering the Sensing Spirit Stage. Though body-forging is only the first step, for any cultivator, it is the most crucial phase.

But Ziling had only joined out of curiosity, and within a few days, she’d begun to complain and eventually quit. In terms of strength, she hadn’t even reached the first level of body-forging. Still, she was deeply interested in books about cultivation—she had read over half the volumes in the Zhang family’s library. It was precisely because she’d read a description of the “Phantom Snow Rabbit,” and because of that innate fondness women have for adorable creatures, that today’s little adventure with Yang Yan came to be.

Yang Yan calmed his breath and mind, silently reciting an incantation to employ the “Turtle’s Breath Technique,” slowing his breathing and heartbeat to their lowest frequencies before quietly edging toward the “Phantom Snow Rabbit.”

The so-called “Turtle’s Breath Technique” was not an immortal cultivator’s martial art, but rather a mundane practice passed along in the secular world. It was not particularly profound, but since Yang Yan had failed to break through to the Sensing Spirit Stage, he couldn’t yet use spiritual power to cloak himself in a veil of energy that would blend him into the environment—a far easier method than this laborious approach.

As he crept forward, sweat beaded in his tightly clenched palm. Though the “Phantom Snow Rabbit” was the lowest rank of magical beast, lacking any offensive power, it was especially renowned for its speed. Yang Yan only hoped to catch it in one swift move and fulfill his “little ancestor’s” wish; if he let it escape, he’d never hear the end of it.

“Damn, I’ve been spotted!” Yang Yan cursed inwardly, for just as he closed within twenty paces, the rabbit, nibbling on its pine cone, seemed to sense danger. Its long ears shot up, and it turned its head, still holding the pine cone in its furry paws, looking irresistibly endearing.

But Yang Yan was not to be swayed by its cuteness. Since he’d been discovered, it was time to act. Without hesitation, he poured all his strength into his legs and lunged forward!

With a muffled thud, Yang Yan shot forward like an arrow from a bow, launching himself at the momentarily stunned “Phantom Snow Rabbit.”

The rabbit let out a sharp cry, like a bird’s call, then spun around and kicked off the ground with its back legs, shooting away into the woods like a snowball.

At this point, Yang Yan had no intention of letting it escape. He changed direction, let out a low shout, and with a somewhat odd running posture, chased after the fleeing rabbit.

Though his movements looked strange, his speed was not slow; in the blink of an eye, he vanished from Ziling’s sight.

The footwork he used was known as the “Shadowstep Technique,” a style of martial arts common in the secular world. The name sounded impressive, but in practical combat, its utility was limited.

Yet, lacking the ability to channel spiritual power, Yang Yan made do with what he had. It was better than nothing, and it served its purpose now.

“Be careful, Brother Yang Yan! I’ll be waiting here for you...” Ziling’s voice faded into the distance, but Yang Yan could spare her no attention. His eyes remained fixed on the swiftly fleeing “Phantom Snow Rabbit,” and he raced after it with all his might.

A crafty rabbit always has three burrows—if this little creature reached its den, catching it would be far more difficult.

With this in mind, Yang Yan steeled himself, pouring the last of his strength into his legs as he sprinted desperately forward.

He chased the rabbit for more than ten minutes, gradually drawing closer to the inner reaches of the Broken Cloud Mountains. The deeper he went, the steeper and rougher the terrain became, and the greater the risk of encountering high-level magical beasts.

The thought made Yang Yan hesitate. His stamina was nearly spent—if he pressed on and met a powerful beast, exhausted and weak as he was, his chances of survival would be slim.

Just as this thought flickered through his mind, a wave of bone-chilling cold exploded from his lower abdomen, making his whole body shudder.

“Damn it—the cold poison is flaring up again!”