Shao Yi didn't think that much. The less one thought, the better one's life was his motto. He turned around to look at the fake mountain.
"Huh?" he thought.
"No one's around?"
He caught a silhouette in his periphery not far away, causing him to immediately turn around.
He saw a man in white clothes with his hair messily draped over his shoulder. His arms were behind his back.
This was the man who was standing on that fake mountain.
He came to stand right in front of Shao Yi.
Shao Yi's pupils contracted. The man had his head hung low, obscuring his face, yet the clothing he was wearing was noticeably tattered.
That man's clothes seemed to have been torn by a sword, and the exposed skin was all bruised and battered.
There were also vague bloodstains on said clothes that had almost all been washed away by the rain.
