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Two days, twenty-four hours each.
Both lingering and fleeting.
In these two days, under the watchful eyes of dozens, Xie Xuanyi sat calmly under the mast, meditating, his whole figure shrouded in shadows, like the lingering image of a wind banner fluttering in the breeze.
He was very clear.
About the "deathtrap" he was facing, and who had initiated it.
It wasn't Wu Qiong.
Nor was it these evil cultivators from the Southern Border.
But Yuan Jimo, far away in the Imperial City, and Qing Sun, lurking in the shadows.
They were the ones who truly wanted him dead.
They were also very clear.
To kill him, relying on these people alone, would surely not be enough.
So...
The real death trap would be after "landing".
For Xie Xuanyi, the greatest challenge lay right there, similar to the hardships he faced at the North Sea in the past, with three points of resemblance.
Although those surrounding him to attack were much weaker.
But the essence of the predicament was the same.
