Kongtong Mountain.
The night rain moistens the autumn leaves and dampens the steps.
In the Hall of Sword Narration, Xiao Tingshu, who was sitting cross-legged with his longsword across his lap and eyes closed, suddenly felt something, and his eyes opened to look towards the north.
After a moment of stillness, he stood up with his sword in hand. In the blink of an eye, he had arrived in front of the solitary tower.
Before he could utter "Chief Ming," an ink painting floating in the air caught his eye. Surrounded by the Cloud White True Qi amidst the drizzling autumn rain, it remained untouched by the rain, unstained by mud.
Stretching out his hand, Xiao Tingshu hesitated mid-air before using the hilt of his sword to lift it out.
A line of ink writing was clear and clean: "Faced with sudden events, I leave this temporary message. The journey to Sword Belly Mountain thus ends with regret, to be resumed in a ten-day. Respectfully, Ming Qi Tian."
