"Ahem—Ahem—Ah—"
On the official road, a gray donkey brayed noisily, its hooves clapping on the ground. Atop the donkey, a young man dressed in white, looking like a scholar, was closing his eyes, resting his mind.
Drawing closer for a careful look, one could see the scholar's chest and abdomen rhythmically inhaling and exhaling. Despite sitting on the moving donkey, he was as stable as a mountain.
"Huu—"
The young man exhaled a faint mist, which coalesced in the air, not dissipating.
"I've finally reached the Postnatal Ninth Layer," Qing Yu said lightly.
It had been over two months since he left Yang City. The great events at Yang City had come to an end a month ago.
When Qing Yu left, the Six Gates had overrun the City Lord Mansion, with Song Ziqi and Song Fu fleeing.
