Huang Xiaolong led the group to the foot of Mount Dayan.
Now, under the reflection of a cold moon, the entire Mount Dayan was shrouded in a deep haze.
This haze was, of course, the mourning spirit qi that made the ground within miles seem like it would freeze over.
"Oh, it's here," Huang Xiaolong smiled. "Let's hurry up the mountain. I really can't wait!"
With that, Huang Xiaolong briskly walked towards Mount Dayan.
Through the haze-like spirit qi.
A rugged path, winding its way upwards.
At this moment, one could see ghosts and fierce spirits queuing up in an orderly fashion to ascend the mountain, whispering to each other, conferring in hushed tones, and issuing strange cries... It really seemed as if they were here to attend some grand and significant gathering!
At the foot of the mountain, an old ghost, hunchbacked and clad in purple, said to Huang Xiaolong with a forced smile, "Ghost King, may I ask where you come from? Where is your invitation?"
