The cliff was barren and lifeless, not even a hint of moss green on the surrounding stone walls.
No insects, no birds, utter silence prevailed.
Jagged rocks perched haphazardly, resembling stone beasts, and though their mouths were wide open, not a whisper echoed among the four people atop the cliff.
Yue Ling Shan and the other two's gaze followed Zhao Rong and shot towards the sheer cliff behind.
Linghu Chong had the phrase "Rong, did you see it wrong?" ready on his lips, yet before he could utter it—
a whooshing sound of the wind was heard, and the scene before him blurred.
A flash of green shadow zipped by, too quick to discern.
The three were far too slow to react visually; they couldn't make out the figure at all. By the time they regained their senses, an emaciated old man had appeared before them.
With his white beard and cyan robe, his presence was subdued and solemn; his face pale as gold paper.
