This stretch of wilderness far from the bustling city lies not far from the Qian River.
The surging river waves pound against the cliff face.
Thunderous booms, deafening and shattering to the ears.
This area was a place Mu Ying passed through every day; once he reached here, home was not far.
Yet today was different from all other days.
As he drew near that great boulder, he finally encountered obstruction in this deserted wilderness.
The raggedly dressed Chen Yuanwu stood tall beneath the vast heavens.
Letting the mountain wind sweep past him.
As though he had fused with this world itself.
Under the blazing sun, that broad saber—already two inches out of its scabbard—would occasionally flash with a cold, sharp gleam, shocking and dazzling. It was precisely this that made one aware of his presence.
This man was likely a peerless powerhouse.
The carriage, already not moving fast, came to an abrupt halt; the middle-aged driver's face was filled with terror.
