Dayan Corridor, a mix of desert and wasteland unfold, all that can be seen ahead is dead wood and withered grass.
Under the scorching sun, sandstorms sweep across, and one cannot spot a single sign of life as far as the eye can see.
The wind, however, is quite strong, blowing the dry branches and making them clap and sway erratically.
In this fierce wind, a group of four appears in this borderland corridor.
Among these four, there is a fine young master, a True Butcher, an Old Poison Hand, and a crazy little girl...
"Heaven unclear, earth unseen, in this desolate world no one to be seen, no one walks..."
Lingdang holds a twig in her hand, walking barefoot in this barren realm, occasionally whipping the twig on the ground, while the bells around her ankles jingle, and she hums that eerie nursery rhyme.
"I thought the path ahead was bright, you walked through the dim and perplexing pavilion..."
"Stop singing!"
