One person: Starting with the Snow Drinking Blade

Wang Zhenqiu's vehicle was a white Wuling Hongguang van, weathered by time. The words "Na Du Tong Express" in red and blue were crookedly pasted on the side, the edges peeling up to reveal the mottled paint underneath. If Nie Lingfeng hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he would never have believed that this temporary worker, later jokingly referred to as the "Southwest Cancer" in the entire supernatural community, with his unpredictable style, would use such a...down-to-earth, even somewhat pathetic, mode of transportation.

"Don't look at it like that," Wang Zhenqiu said deftly, pulling open the driver's side door. The door hinges creaked under the strain, and a complex odor wafted out—a mixture of the acrid smell of cheap tobacco, the lingering aroma of pickled cabbage and beef noodles, and the faint scent of Wang Zhenqiu's distinctive cologne, along with a hint of engine oil and dust. "It's a company-issued 'official vehicle,' fuel-efficient and durable, can go up mountains and down rivers, but it's not very comfortable. Just make do, Little Fengfeng~"

Nie Lingfeng's lips twitched slightly as he carefully opened the passenger door. The seat's foam had long lost its elasticity, the fabric was worn shiny, and several tears were hastily patched up with wide gray tape, revealing the springs underneath that were about to burst out. He took a deep breath and, with an almost martial arts-like caution, slowly sat down, even subconsciously holding his breath, afraid that if he used too much force, the poor chair would simply "die a natural death."

As Wang Zhenqiu roughly turned the key, pressed the clutch, and shifted gears, the car emitted a violent cough and roar, like an elderly asthma patient. Then the whole car shook violently, like a reluctant old ox, and wobbled away from the end of the forest path, rolling onto the relatively flat dirt road.

"Speaking of which," Wang Zhenqiu casually rested one hand on the steering wheel, while the other hand reached into the glove compartment on the dashboard and pulled out a crumpled pack of "Hongtashan" cigarettes. He expertly shook one out, put it in his mouth, but didn't light it, letting the smell of tobacco spread in his mouth. He turned his head and glanced at Nie Lingfeng with his beautiful peach blossom eyes, his gaze flashing with undisguised curiosity and inquiry, "You really stayed in those deep mountains and forests like a wild man for a full ten years? Ten years, more than three thousand six hundred and fifty days, just facing rocks, trees, and... um, fish in the pond?"

"Hmm." Nie Lingfeng responded briefly, his gaze greedily fixed on the scenery rushing past the window—finally, it wasn't the same monotonous, seemingly endless wall of dark green trees anymore! In the distance, the outlines of mountains undulated on the horizon, their lines soft; further still, a gray-white ribbon could even be seen winding through them—that was… a highway! Traces of human civilization!

"What kind of kung fu are you practicing? That time you swatted Bald Qiang away," Wang Zhenqiu paused, seemingly recalling the unfortunate guy's name, "it looked light and soft, like swatting a fly, but the power and that... um, 'artistic conception,' it felt completely different from the kung fu styles circulating in the market now, and those awakened innate abilities. Is your master perhaps a descendant of some reclusive ancient martial arts family?"

Nie Lingfeng had already prepared his speech, and now, following the train of thought, he spoke in a slightly reminiscent and sentimental tone: "My master said that our lineage has a long history, and its specific origins are no longer traceable. The name of the martial art... is 'Cloud-Dispelling Palm'. In addition, there are the matching 'Wind God Leg', 'Heavenly Frost Fist', and 'Six Secrets of Frost' that need to be used in conjunction with the family heirloom sword. My master often said that these martial arts were once very prominent, but later the lineage declined, and with the strict rules of the sect, they were not passed on to those who were not compatible with them. Over time, they became little known and were almost lost."

He deliberately spoke in a vague and ambiguous manner, mixing truth with falsehood. In any case, Nie Feng's martial arts system was "not found" in this world of Under One Person, so it was reasonable to say that it was a lost ancient martial art.

"Cloud-Dispelling Palm... Wind God Leg... Heavenly Frost Fist... Six Secrets of Frost..." Wang Zhenqiu repeated these names in a low voice, his fingers unconsciously tapping lightly on the steering wheel, his eyes sparkling. "They sound really imposing, like something out of a martial arts novel. Snow Drinking Saber... that name sounds pretty cool too. Your master, could he be a hardcore fan of martial arts novels?" He joked, but the probing look in his eyes deepened.

The car finally reached a real asphalt road. Although it was a rural third-class road, the surface wasn't wide, but it was smooth and hard, with rusty mileage markers and road signs standing along the roadside. In the distance, small villages built against the mountainside were faintly visible, with red tiles and white walls, and wisps of smoke rising from their chimneys. Occasionally, a motorcycle or a farm tricycle would chug by, kicking up a light cloud of dust. In Nie Lingfeng's eyes, all of this was full of vibrant human life, making his heart, which had been immersed in silence for ten years, warm slightly.

About an hour later, the car entered a small town in western Sichuan that looked quite old.

The town is small, with a main street running east to west, lined with uneven two- or three-story buildings. The exterior walls are covered in outdated white or beige tiles, many of which have peeled off. Shop signs are varied: "Wang's Authentic Sichuan Cuisine," "Old Li's Hardware and Agricultural Machinery," "Sister Zhao's Daily Necessities," "Harvest Agricultural Supplies Sales," and so on. The lettering is mostly faded, yet full of life. Pedestrians are few and far between, simply dressed, walking leisurely. A few stray dogs nap under the eaves, ignoring passing bread carts.

Wang Zhenqiu parked his car with practiced ease in front of an inconspicuous three-story gray building in the middle of the main street. A slightly worn blue sign hung at the entrance: "Nadutong Express Co., Ltd. Southwest Branch, Leshan Branch". The glass door was fairly clean, and inside, several employees in dark blue overalls and work gloves could be seen sorting through piles of packages. They worked quickly, occasionally exchanging a few words, looking no different from any other busy rural express delivery outlet.

"We're 'home'." Wang Zhenqiu smoothly turned off the engine and removed the key in one swift motion. He opened the car door, turned back to Nie Lingfeng, grinned, revealing a set of white teeth, and said, "Stay close to me, talk less, and observe more. The uncles, aunts, brothers, and sisters in here are no pushovers."

Nie Lingfeng nodded, followed him out of the car, and walked towards the glass door. The busy sorting workers inside only glanced up at them casually, their eyes lingering briefly on Nie Lingfeng's unfamiliar face and the conspicuous long package behind him, before lowering their heads to continue their work. They didn't even bother to greet him with "Brother Qiu is back," as if it were perfectly normal for Wang Zhenqiu to bring a stranger back.

Wang Zhenqiu paid no attention to this, walking straight through the slightly crowded sorting area to an inconspicuous gray iron door on the back wall. He magically pulled a black access card from his trench coat pocket and swiped it on the sensor by the door.

The iron gate made a slight "click" sound and opened a crack inward, revealing a downward staircase paved with gray floor tiles. The stairwell was dimly lit, with only an energy-saving light shining every few meters on the walls.

"Go down?" Nie Lingfeng raised an eyebrow.

"What else?" Wang Zhenqiu took the lead and walked down the stairs, his voice echoing in the narrow space. "Are we really going to set up the branch office above the courier outlet? That would be so unmysterious, and it doesn't fit our 'keeping a low profile' corporate culture. Besides, the basement is warm in winter and cool in summer, and it's quiet. Isn't that great?"

The staircase wasn't long, descending about two stories. As Nie Lingfeng followed Wang Zhenqiu up the last step and rounded a bend, the view suddenly opened up before them.

This is a vast, modernly renovated underground space, its area roughly the size of half a standard football field. The ceiling is high, illuminated by rows of powerful LED fluorescent lights that make the entire space as bright as day. The floor is a smooth, flat epoxy resin floor, its light gray color scheme conveying a calm and professional feel. The space is meticulously planned: around the perimeter are individual offices or meeting rooms separated by frosted glass partitions, labeled "Archives," "Meeting Room A," and "Technical Analysis Department"; in the center is a spacious open-plan office area with dozens of standard desks arranged in a matrix, each equipped with a computer, telephone, file rack, and other office supplies.

Dozens of people dressed casually, of varying ages and with distinct personalities, were busy at work. Some were frowning at their computer screens, their fingers flying across the keyboards; others were moving between workstations with folders in hand, conversing in hushed tones; some were leaning back in their chairs talking on the phone, their tones ranging from serious to relaxed; and still others were even gathered around a whiteboard, debating something and scribbling with markers... On the surface, this place looked no different from any other busy, modern company office.

Apart from--

Nie Lingfeng almost immediately sensed the fluctuations of "Qi" permeating the entire space, some strong, some weak, some solid, some fleeting! These Qi had different attributes: some were as hot as fire, some as warm as water, some as sharp as gold, some as heavy as earth, and some were strange and difficult to understand... Although most people were deliberately restraining themselves, the unique energy characteristics of the extraordinary people were clearly discernible to someone as perceptive as Nie Lingfeng, like fireflies in the dark.

"Hey, Qiu'er's back?" A young girl in her early twenties, wearing black-rimmed glasses and a ponytail, looked up from behind a computer, adjusted her glasses, and looked past Wang Zhenqiu, landing directly on Nie Lingfeng. Her eyes lit up slightly. "You even picked up a newbie? Not bad, Qiu'er. You managed to get this much just from cleaning up the mess? The young man is quite handsome. What's his name?" Her tone was familiar yet teasing.

"Go away, Lin Xiaoxue, get back to your work! Have you met your end-of-month KPIs yet? Stop gossiping here!" Wang Zhenqiu waved his hand dismissively, like shooing away a fly, but a smile played on his lips. "Be careful, or I'll tell Uncle Hao and dock your bonus!"

The girl named Lin Xiaoxue stuck out her tongue, made a face, glanced curiously at Nie Lingfeng, and then lowered her head to continue typing away at the screen.

Without further delay, Wang Zhenqiu led Nie Lingfeng through the somewhat noisy open-plan office area, heading straight for a relatively independent office at the far end, with thicker glass partitions. The office door was made of solid wood, with a simple black sign hanging on it bearing two gold-embossed characters: "Person in Charge".

Wang Zhenqiu didn't even bother to knock; he simply grabbed the doorknob, pressed it down, and pushed the door open to enter.

The office was simply furnished: a large solid wood desk, a comfortable-looking black leather boss's chair, several filing cabinets against the wall, and a sofa and coffee table set for guests. A strong smell of tobacco permeated the air.