Great Yan Border.
The wind and sand stretched endlessly, vast and boundless, the wild and unrestrained spirit was awe-inspiring, and it also made one feel an endless fatigue.
This place was far from the bustling noise, and even birds wouldn't linger here. The heavy weight of time pressed on this vast land, hardly capturing that moment of grandeur from years past; yesterday, today, and tomorrow were all frozen together.
Only drought-resistant Russian olives and poplars grew here, occasionally accompanied by clumps of half-fathom-high tamarisk grass, all solemnly guarding this piece of land together.
This feeling surpassed that of the oceans and mountains, making one truly understand what emptiness and vastness were.
An Jing held the Evil Suppressing Sword, gazing into the distant direction.
It seemed his mind was still contemplating the remaining power of that one palm, or perhaps admiring the distant vast land.
"Rustle! Rustle!"
