As Yong Xinghua bowed his head in submission, Nine Dragons Mountain transformed from bleak to verdant. Everyone on and around the mountain was struck dumb, unable to comprehend.
It was as if they were in a dream. Like Zhuang Zhou dreaming of the butterfly, they couldn't tell if they were dreaming they had become a butterfly, or if a butterfly was dreaming it had become them.
"Slap!"
Someone couldn't help but slap themselves, as if trying to wake up from shock.
"Damn, can anyone tell me what just... what just happened?" the person exclaimed, staring at the evergreen pines changing colors around him, murmuring to himself.
This wasn't just his question, as everyone had expressions like their day had gone to the dogs. Nine Dragons Mountain had withered and then instantaneously revitalized before their eyes, making everyone think they were seeing an illusion.
