When Li Fan opened his eyes again, what he saw was not a familiar ceiling but an expanse of clean, blue sky—he was lying in a snowfield with the towering Yin Mountain at his back.
For a moment, Li Fan thought he may have soaked in the bath too long and had been tossed out by Cloud Platform Peak.
He spent three or four seconds in a daze, just like every Monday morning when his eyes snapped open and the realization of having to go to work hit him, desperately trying to recall what the heck he'd done over the weekend, before he pulled his thoughts together. As memories flooded his mind like a surging tide, and he looked at his hands that were so pale they almost blended into the snow around him, feeling like they were made of ivory, he gradually came to understand.
The Qiongqi Taoist child had awakened.
