In the north of Huaxia was a mountain range.
The mountains were covered with snow all year round, and it was usually devoid of people.
One day, somewhere in the mountains, the air suddenly rippled like the surface of a pond, and a figure suddenly appeared and fell to the ground.
"Ouch!"
His face hit the ground, and he could not help but cry out in pain.
He got up and straightened his robe. He was a man who looked to be in his fifties or sixties. His face was thin, and there was a sinister look between his brows.
He had a long beard and long hair, and he was dressed in ancient clothes. At a glance, he looked as if he had walked out of a film set.
He rubbed his face and looked around. Then, he frowned.
"The qi is too thin..."
"Those who stayed behind should have all declined or even died out!"
He sneered and revealed a mocking expression.
Then, he flicked his sleeves proudly.