Three months passed in the blink of an eye.
A gentle breeze blew.
Standing at the entrance to the Netherworld, Jiang Lan felt a chill.
It was snowing.
The snow was rather heavy.
It covered the grass on the mountain peak.
He strode forward and arrived near the courtyard.
The snow had covered the peach trees.
"I should plant some plum blossoms so that I can see them bloom."
"The sharp edge of a sword is sharpened through harsh refining while the fragrance of plum blossoms comes from the bitter cold."
Jiang Lan, who was walking in the courtyard, couldn't help but think of this poem.
He was tempering himself.
One day, his brilliance will also shine in Kunlun.
But he didn't want that day to come.
It was fine as long as he was brilliant.
There was no need for him to shine.
Because there would definitely be many bad things that would happen then.
