The first thing to hit Yang Qing's mind when he interacted with the jade slip was a name—"Xie Huan."
He did not need to ponder long what that name meant, as a stream of information that was a mix of images, videos, and accompanying statements containing the when, where, and what quickly poured into his mind.
"Xie Huan," Yang Qing silently murmured as he slowly digested the information he received.
The fog that shrouded this case of his had finally thinned to the point that he could see what really was around him. He did not have to grope around the blurriness anymore, and neither did he have to see vague outlines and try to guess what they were.
He could finally see the features with clarity. He might not know where said features were located geographically, but at least he could tell the forest from the trees.
His guess had been confirmed.
