Frozen Ice Soup

The twilight deepened, and the snow-covered streets seemed like white clouds dyed with crimson hues.

Ying Bing watched Li Mo's nonchalant expression and inexplicably wanted to curl her fingers. But her hand was clutching candy, and his warm palm had already enveloped it entirely—where else could she retreat?

Cold?

Even during the fiercest blizzard today, she hadn’t felt the slightest chill. Her jade-like skin, tempered by the power of the Lunar Yin, was impervious to mere frost and wind.

She had long grown accustomed to it.

Not knowing cold, she naturally couldn’t recognize warmth.

But now, her left hand was exposed to the air while her right nestled in his pocket, wrapped snugly in his large, warm grasp.

The contrast between cold and warmth suddenly became stark.

"It’s a little cold."

"!"

Honestly, even Li Mo himself had only just realized what he’d done instinctively.

Was he joking? The ice block could feel cold?

Yet the delicate, boneless hand in his palm did seem to have warmed slightly. Unable to resist, he studied her expression.

Ying Bing’s face remained impassive, but a faint blush tinged her moon-pale cheeks—perhaps the twilight outside the carriage window had stolen in unnoticed.

Her clear, luminous eyes gazed out the window, bathed in the mingling hues of dusk where day and night intertwined, light and shadow dancing together.

"I’m definitely going to master my craft!"

Hu Zi wiped his eyes as he watched the two inside the carriage.

Before, he’d always thought candy tasted the same no matter what—why bother painstakingly crafting it into art?

But now, he desperately wanted to capture this scene with sweet syrup, painting it into existence. Maybe this was what his grandfather meant when he said...

Candy sweetens the mouth, but art sweetens the heart?

Just then, the sound of wheels and hooves echoed from the end of the street. A convoy of wagons, draped in oilcloth, carved deep ruts through the snow.

Flanked by two columns of soldiers, the procession was unmistakably from the Greenwood Barracks, judging by their uniforms.

"Young Hero Li."

The leader was a deputy general under Qu Sheng, who had met Li Mo the previous day at the Jiatailou Tavern.

He saluted from horseback.

"Military duties kept me from witnessing your prowess at today’s drills. A true regret."

"What kept you so busy?"

Li Mo asked casually, then winked at Hu Zi beside him. The boy’s eyes widened in realization.

"Winter’s approaching. These are provisions and supplies for the army."

"No wonder there’s so much."

"This isn’t even enough. Eighty thousand soldiers, plus logistics—over a hundred thousand mouths to feed, horses included."

The deputy general sighed, his brow furrowing.

"With these supplies, we might barely scrape through the New Year."

After exchanging another greeting, the deputy general led the convoy back to camp to report. Li Mo’s eyebrows lifted slightly.

From the sound of it, the Greenwood Barracks faced shortages in provisions and pay?

But Greenwood City was the Great Yu’s southernmost stronghold, a critical outpost in the Nanjiang frontier.

Even if the region had seen no conflict for years, how could military supplies run so low?

He’d witnessed the garrison troops at Bottle Town—their disarray was a stark contrast to the disciplined Southern Pass forces.

If pay was lacking, such chaos made sense...

"Wait!"

After a moment’s thought, Li Mo called the deputy general back.

His system’s inventory still held many supplies purchased from the Yunzhou Hengtong Trading Company—most of which he hadn’t even used.

Since he planned to return to Purple Sun Prefecture soon, keeping them was pointless.

Better to leave them with the Greenwood Barracks.

[Congratulations, Host. You have successfully invested in the Greenwood Barracks, alleviating their supply crisis.]

[You have unclaimed investment rewards.]

......

Night fell.

Inside the central command tent, Qu Sheng drank a bowl of medicinal broth, his pallid complexion gaining a faint flush. Hearing the report from outside, he took a deep breath and spoke with forced vigor.

"Enter."

The deputy general stepped in, pausing in surprise. "Commander, your old injury flared up again?"

"Just strained some energy. Nothing serious."

Qu Sheng frowned at the deputy general’s expression.

"The provisions—did they fall short?"

The deputy general grumbled, "The quartermasters sent to requisition grain said the local garrisons barely cooperated, offering only token contributions. Those ungrateful curs!"

"Take what we can get." Qu Sheng sighed silently.

Pushing the garrisons too hard would only force them to squeeze the common folk.

The Southern Pass was no longer the mighty force of a million, backed by the full might of the Great Yu.

"We’ll find another way."

Rubbing his temples, Qu Sheng studied the map in the tent, deep in thought.

A moment later, he glanced back at the still-standing deputy general.

"Something else?"

The deputy general nodded. "Among the supplies... a portion was gifted by Young Hero Li."

"Provisions he bought before coming south?"

Qu Sheng blinked, then chuckled.

"A drop in the bucket, but a kind gesture nonetheless."

How much could one man carry for a trip to the frontier?

But he’d never guess that Li Mo’s shopping spree had been prepared as if he intended to stay forever.

"Far from a drop, Commander. See for yourself."

"Hm?"

Puzzled, Qu Sheng accepted the spatial pouch handed to him.

"The grain and elixirs inside—all from Young Hero Li."

"..."

Qu Sheng’s eyes widened slightly. The grain alone matched a third of what they’d collected from the towns.

But the grain was secondary.

The pouch also contained common medicines—golden wound powder, energy-restoring pills—all meticulously packed.

With these, they’d still face shortages, but the crisis had been significantly eased.

Qu Sheng exhaled sharply, exhilarated for a moment before his expression grew complicated.

Greenwood City was on the brink of war.

He didn’t know how much force the Calamity Beasts and the remnants of the Great Shang would bring.

All he could do was strengthen their defenses, clinging to any hope of holding the city.

That was why he’d hesitated the other day, swallowing the words meant to persuade the young marquis and Li Mo to leave.

But what if they couldn’t hold?

Should someone like Young Hero Li be trapped here, doomed alongside them?

......

Elsewhere.

In a private room at Jiatailou Tavern, the aroma of delicacies wafted through the air—Li Mo and the "ice block’s" usual four-dish meal.

Only the soup was missing.

Throughout the meal, Li Mo was deep in research.

"Ice block, how effective would Golden Leaf Nourishing Grass be in soup?"

"That’s for alchemy. In soup... maybe half its potency remains."

Ying Bing’s snow-pale cheeks moved slightly as she chewed.

Li Mo often experimented with recipes. This time, he seemed to be crafting a broth?

She was used to it by now.

"Not bad, then."

Li Mo set the Golden Leaf Nourishing Grass on the table, then produced a box of peculiar petals.

"What about pairing it with Moistening Rose Petals? Would their effects clash?"

"No, they’d complement each other somewhat."

As Ying Bing spoke, Li Mo pulled out one rare ingredient after another, covering half the table in a dazzling array.

Her slender brows arched. With this much material, he could brew a cauldron’s worth, not just a pot.

"What kind of soup are you making?"

Li Mo pondered, then said thoughtfully, "If I had to name it... Ice Block Soup?"

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