On the fifth day.
Whoosh——
A wad of white wool spanning tens of miles whizzes and roars, casting up dust and stones, like a frenzied beast bent on devastating everything in its path.
Right in front of this snowstorm.
A river stretching from head to tail as though probing into the void straddles the horizon, at its utmost speed furiously surging forward.
Ding ding!
The sound of gold and iron clashing, once as clear as melodious music, now inexplicably harbors a certain hurriedness.
Above this river.
Stands a figure of a young man in a green robe.
...
"Damn it, you were the ones who provoked me first! Just because I killed about twenty or so of your monkeys, does that warrant such relentless pursuit?"
Zhang Jing cursed under his breath.
He stood on the Five Treasures Spirit River, the tip of his foot lightly tapping the surface of the river. His robe unfurled in the wind and gave a remarkable impression of transcendent elegance.
