The cold wind whooshed up from the bottom of the valley, causing the garments of Lin Suqing and Xi Ye, who stood at the edge of the cliff, to flutter and sway. Cloud mists, like fine dust, rose up, covering the narrow rope that connected the two places with a vague and shadowy veil, barely allowing glimpses of it here and there.
A solitary chilling breeze arose, the fog curling up and enveloping the clouds, and look at that rope, merely two fingers wide, gently swaying. This place was at a height unreachable by ordinary birds; if one were to fall down... if one were to fall down...
"No! I'll take you!" Xi Ye twisted his head and steeled his heart, "This time I won't listen to you! You have to listen to me!"
The clear voice of the youth echoed between the valleys, and even as the sound faded more and more, his forcefulness remained focused: "Is it really considered provoking The Three Pure Ones just by using the Thousand-Mile Light to help you cross? There's no such reason!"
