Nine days had passed, and it was now late December.
The days grew colder.
Until they entered the Spirit Realm, Martial Artists were still flesh-and-blood mortals, incapable of Qi Refining and Grain Avoidance.
Wei Yanran had been kneeling there for nine days without food or water. Her beautiful face was utterly gaunt, drained of all color.
WHOOSH.
The cold wind howled.
Ning Jiang looked up at the sky. Inky clouds pressed down, so heavy they seemed about to collapse, suffocating the world into a dreadful silence.
A callous, biting wind whipped past. The delicate flowers and grasses had long since bent to the ground in submission, trembling.
A storm was brewing.
"It's going to rain."
Ning Jiang looked away. He walked past Wei Yanran without even a pause and went inside.
「One hour later.」
BOOM!
A clap of thunder split the sky, and a torrential rain began to fall.
The downpour was sudden and fierce. Raindrops as large as beans pelted the tiles, making a PITTER-PATTER sound.
