Beimang, Corpse Hill
In the gloomy and deep tomb, a man lay fast asleep, snoring heavily.
His complexion was sallow, his bald head shiny, his body covered in corpse spots and enveloped in the aura of death. Upon closer inspection, one could faintly discern a golden glow. His tall and robust figure packed the already spacious tomb quite tightly, and as his breaths were even, the evil Qi gathered more and more, making the tomb unbearably cold and grim.
Most martial artists, if placed in such a thick and yin atmosphere, would not last long, but this man seemed to be enjoying it. Nurtured by the cold and ghastly energy of the tomb, he slept even more sweetly.
Suddenly, the sleeping man opened his eyes, which had black and white cross-shaped pupils filled with caution and vigilance. He carefully listened to the movements on the ground.
