In August, when the temperature was at its warmest in the Arctic, the sun seemed almost eternal, resting at the far edge of the horizon. The Arctic research vessel, the Long Ji, plowed slowly over the endless glaciers as its bow shattered the ice with continuous, grating sounds. By noon the temperature had risen to negative seven degrees.
Unlike usual when the biting winds would roam freely, the First Mate Zhao Meng instructed all the research team members to come up on deck for some fresh air. Zhao Meng was Li Weiyi’s senior brother in the sect. In his early years he had trained in fists and palms within the sect for six years.
Later he joined the navy and steadily rose to the rank of a senior officer with rich seafaring experience. On this expedition he traveled aboard the research vessel to manage the crew and maintain the ship. After being cooped up in the cabins for several days, everyone was excited to step onto the deck.
Some spread their arms wide to breathe deeply, others shouted out loud, and still others scooped up stray ice and snow from the deck and tossed it into the distance. A reporter retraced every moment for broadcast, while the meteorological researchers began launching weather balloons.
“Rare snow astonishes a thousand miles, yet the clouds obscure the nine heavens.”
“On this land the night looks like a bright moon, while mountains resemble white clouds at dawn.”
Among the seven or eight students leaving the cabin with Professor Xu, one short fellow, moved by the scene, burst into poem. White mist billowed from his mouth as he recited aloud. No one laughed or felt embarrassed; they all shared in his passion and spirit.
To have been chosen while still in university to venture to these polar regions was to add a vivid, brilliant chapter to one’s life story. Li Weiyi, however, sat alone on the ladder at the stern, far removed from the boisterous laughter and high-spirited chatter around him. He had a refined, handsome face with a high, straight nose.
His lips, chapped by the cold, parted slightly. He had just finished his freshman year and was much younger than the master’s students led by Professor Xu. From the thick orange-hued collar of his heavy winter coat, Li Weiyi pulled out an ancient ornament that hung around his neck.
As he ran his fingers over the intricate carvings, a swell of longing filled him, and sorrow and bitterness sprang to his face. This ancient ornament was called the Dao Ancestor Taiji Fish – the token of the Chan Sect’s Head Disciple. It was said to have been passed down since the days of King Wen of Zhou.
Two bronze fish were joined at their heads and tails to form a Taiji diagram seal. The scale carvings were finely detailed, but one of the eyes was missing. The eyes of the two fish symbolized the lesser yin and lesser yang in the Taiji.
The single remaining eye, slightly bluish and about the size of a bean, was made of a mysterious material that looked like jade, stone, or even bone, carrying an ancient charm. The old Sect Leader had once said that it was the Dao Ancestor’s forehead bone.
Two months earlier, on his deathbed, the old Sect Leader had passed the Dao Ancestor Taiji Fish to Li Weiyi, and as a matter of course, Li Weiyi became the new generation leader of the Chan Sect. Orphaned since childhood, Li Weiyi had grown up alongside the old leader, nearly like a grandson. His master’s passing had struck him deeply.
Coincidentally, Zhao Meng had been visiting the mountain to see his own mentor, and at that time the dying old Sect Leader entrusted Li Weiyi to him. Seeing Li Weiyi mired in grief for days, Zhao Meng suggested taking him out to clear his head.
It was only when Li Weiyi boarded the research vessel that he realized his senior had chosen the faraway Arctic for a change of scenery.
“You miss the old Sect Leader again, don’t you?”
Zhao Meng said, approaching from the deck. Zhao Meng’s broad, towering figure stood at 1.86 meters, with large ears and a thick, bushy beard. Dressed in a broad winter coat that accentuated his muscular arms like pillars, he embodied a manly aura as solid as mountains.
Li Weiyi quickly composed himself and lifted his head to reveal clear, bright eyes.
“Senior Brother, don’t worry about me. I’m alright. Two months have passed, and in time, everything fades and becomes easier to bear.”
Deep inside, he was strong enough to face life’s storms alone. He was not one to burden those around him with his negative emotions.
“Well then,” Zhao Meng said, plopping down beside him.
He took out a cigarette box, lit a cigarette, and offered one to Li Weiyi, “Try to mingle with everyone; don’t keep all your sorrows to yourself. Want a puff?” Li Weiyi gently shook his head and asked, “Senior Brother, what happened on the ship last night?”
Li Weiyi had been assigned by Zhao Meng to the security team, responsible for maintaining order in the fifth deck of the ship’s cabins. Last night, it seemed something momentous had happened in the lower cabins. There were sounds of running and shouting, and the ship itself shuddered a few times.
At the time he had wanted to go check it out, but had been stopped, and ever since he had been too curious to let it go. Zhao Meng replied, “It wasn’t a major incident. They say that the 705 Laboratory caught fire, but it was quickly extinguished.”
The 705 Laboratory was located on the lowest deck and carried out a secret experiment with high security that wasn’t under Zhao Meng’s control. Li Weiyi had heard people talk about how outside the laboratory there were armed guards.
“Those folks are mysterious; they won’t even let us inspect the lab, not even to check if there are dangerous flammable materials. We must hope nothing untoward happens.”
Zhao Meng said with a troubled look, unable to hide his discontent. Although they said it was a fire, the fact that the ship had trembled clearly hinted that something was being concealed. The Long Ji was over a hundred meters long and weighed nearly fifteen thousand tons.
To cause such shaking would require an enormous force. Remembering the matter that had brought him to see Li Weiyi, Zhao Meng’s expression became serious.
“Did Xie Jin and the others give you any trouble?”
“No.” Li Weiyi shook his head softly.
Zhao Meng patted Li Weiyi’s shoulder with his large, solid hand, “Tell me everything, nothing is too small. The more kind and tolerant you are, the more they take advantage.” After pondering a moment, Li Weiyi said, “Those who make it into the security team are elite talents who passed numerous selections.
I, on the other hand, am a well-connected kid who just started college yet was placed in the security team, with an assignment on the best deck and even my own room. If I were in their shoes, I’d be unhappy too. So I won’t blame them.”
Zhao Meng took a deep drag on his cigarette, puffing thick smoke from his nostrils before continuing, “What kind of ‘connection’ are you talking about? I hardly know your strength. When you were little…
I remember you were barely as tall as you are now. When I trained under the old locust tree, you were there chuckling and swinging your little fists around. Our master once said that my talent would only be good enough to reach the level of your knees.”
Li Weiyi laughed softly, “Master’s exaggerations were well known—you know exactly what I mean.”
“Cut it out! Two years ago when I sparred with you back on the mountain, you were clearly no match for me. At seventeen or eighteen, our physiques and blood qi were rapidly maturing. Look at me now—do you think I still dare to initiate any moves?”
Zhao Meng said. In martial arts, Li Weiyi had many reasons to be confident. Yet whenever he recalled Master’s words—“martial arts, in these days, is down to mere martial skill, without the Dao.
In this age, even martial prowess is nearly lost”—that once unshakeable confidence would waver. All that remained was his lingering pursuit of the martial Dao and his extraordinary dreams, which had not diminished but grown even stronger. He vowed to carve out something remarkable in an era when martial arts were nearly abandoned.
After a long moment of thought, Li Weiyi said, “My place in the security team has never been by the book. Senior Brother, don’t trouble them on my account—I can handle it myself.”
“You…”
Zhao Meng was taken aback. He knew that his junior had grown up in the mountains, was a good student at school, and was too kind and naïve to know the treacherous nature of people’s hearts. Patiently, he explained, “You were specially recruited by me.
Even if you weren’t my junior brother, your strength would fully comply with the rules. That’s the way it is!” He then added, “Next time, if Xie Jin and his gang cause more trouble for you, don’t hold back—teach them a lesson outright.”
Zhao Meng went on, “Speaking of which, this matter has something to do with me. When I was competing for the First Mate’s position, there was quite a conflict with Xie Tianshu. It seems behind it all he was stirring up trouble.”
Xie Tianshu was the Second Mate on the research vessel, responsible for onboard security and medical care. Just then, a crew member hurried over, “Meng-ge, the captain needs to speak with you urgently.”
“I’ve already mentioned your matter to the captain. Don’t even think of treating yourself solely as a member of the security team—consider it a chance to travel and clear your head.”
Zhao Meng gave Li Weiyi a few more words of advice before following the crew member toward the bridge. ……
“Did you know, the Arctic Ocean is the mythic North Sea? In ancient times, the earth was wild and untamed, and wars raged among gods, demons, monsters, and other races. After the tribe of Chi You was defeated, the Nine Li Remnants fled into the North Sea.”
“The North Sea, also known as the Northern Darkness, is said to be the gateway from the mortal realm to the Underworld. Some even say it is the only path to the true mortal world.”
Along the passage by the ship’s side, Professor Xu and his group of master’s students walked toward the stern where Li Weiyi was. Earlier, the short fellow had dazzled everyone with his poetry. Now he was full of stories, chatting non-stop as he told two pretty female students about the myths of the North Sea.
Having been at sea for more than a month, boredom had long since set in, so everyone was delighted by such strange and absurd tales. Paired with the boundless, icy glaciers stretching before them that naturally ignited the imagination, laughter and animated discussions filled the air. A female student with pale skin and big, round eyes said, “Northern Darkness—I know!
In the Northern Darkness there is a fish called Kun. It is so enormous that its size cannot be measured; it stretches for thousands of miles. That is what Zhuangzi wrote in ‘The Joy of Fanciful Wandering’!”
Another female student teasingly remarked, “Is there really a fish that’s thousands of miles long? Even in the Arctic Ocean it couldn’t possibly move around, could it?” Professor Xu and his students were engaged in a research project on marine biology, collecting Arctic strains and genetic specimens from the ocean.
Their tasks were varied and burdensome.
“Endless white silver stretching over thousands of miles, the perpetual light of the polar day—that kind of majestic scenery can only be seen in the polar regions. Let’s take a group photo!”
Professor Xu suggested.
“Sure, it will be a keepsake.”
“Hey, could you take a picture for us, young man?” they asked.
Li Weiyi looked at the camera handed over by one of the female students. Meeting her round, moon-like eyes, he gave a gentle nod. Then, placing the Dao Ancestor Taiji Fish securely back into his winter coat, he rose from the ladder to help them take the photo.
“Please take a few more!” they urged.
A group of boys and girls gathered around Professor Xu at the railing of the ship, posing in various ways for the picture. Click after click of the camera shutter rang out. Suddenly, Li Weiyi sensed something was amiss.
As he reviewed the photos he had just taken and enlarged one of them to inspect it, his pupils suddenly contracted in shock.
“What’s wrong, young man?” a female student asked curiously.
Li Weiyi passed the camera to them so they could see. Meanwhile, his gaze turned toward the distant snowy ridge. The endless icy wilderness lay like a smooth expanse of silver, devoid of any vegetation—a stunning yet desolate sight.
Several kilometers away, atop the snowy ridge, a massive, purple-black figure was moving rapidly.
“Is that a bear? No, it’s a strange bear-like creature…” one of the female students murmured in astonishment as she examined the photo on the camera.
“Let me see—how come it’s a purple-black bear? Aren’t polar bears white? Could it be that a new species has appeared in the Arctic?” another added, peering closely at the image.
“Doesn’t this bear seem odd? It looks emaciated, yet its size is extraordinarily huge.” ……
As they huddled together studying the photos, the bizarre, bear-like creature in purple-black was barreling down the snowy ridge toward the research vessel at an unimaginable speed.
Too fast!
It dashed across the icy plain like a speeding car, its heavy paws thudding as each step sent shards of ice scattering. Even from a distance, one could hear the rumble of its rapid strides.
“This isn’t right. How can it be moving so fast?”
Li Weiyi narrowed his eyes, realizing the danger. This peculiar purple-black beast was massive—four or five times the size of an adult polar bear. It was surely a species unknown on Earth.
In just a minute, the creature had covered nearly two kilometers. Its target was clear—the research vessel.
“It’s coming straight for us,” Li Weiyi whispered, then looked toward the deck and shouted, “Everyone, get back to the cabins—there’s danger!”
“That speed is terrifying! Even a cheetah in a full sprint wouldn’t reach that pace, right?”
Professor Xu and the group of young students watched in worry and panic from nearby. Over the ship’s broadcast system came the captain’s voice, “Attention all research team members—please return to your cabins immediately. Members of the security team, secure the cabin doors.”
“Attention all research team members—please return to your cabins immediately…”
Soon, a piercing alarm blared throughout the entire research vessel.
(End of Chapter)