The mist enveloping the summit of Forget-Me Mountain had dispersed, leaving the mountaintop resplendent in gold as if the ground had been doused with some metallic element.
The ground was engraved with Formation Patterns that flowed with Immortal Light, dreamlike and illusory, at the center of which was a rectangular groove.
"You sure took your sweet time getting here, just insert the Purple Bamboo Shortsword into the small hole, and the Great Formation will begin to operate," Tang Lifen's voice floated from somewhere hidden, slowly reaching Su Hang's ears.
"Slow isn't in my dictionary; I'm a natural-born hothead, known as 'the Rocket Lad who travels ten thousand leagues with the wind,'" Su Hang tossed Qiu Jing onto the platform, and with a casual flick of his hand, the Purple Bamboo Shortsword in his grip streaked across as a trail of light and shot into the groove.
"Whoosh..."
