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The days in the snowy wilderness were short.
Tang Bole had spent three years on the snowy plains; as soon as the first ray of sunlight swept past the window each day, he would go out to hunt for food. He had to rush back to his base before the sun fully set in the west.
In such an environment, even Innate cultivators wouldn't dare to walk alone at night.
He would usually find a sturdy house in an abandoned village, where, within a very short time, he would light a bonfire, have his dinner, and then extinguish the fire and meditate in silence, careful not to let out even a hint of abnormal breath.
In the darkness and solitude, only the faint moonlight entering the house was his longest companion. Though, like the snowy wilderness, the moon was cold, shimmering, and lofty, with an aura of sternness all over.
And now, having returned to the mountain, he had hot food every day and could sleep soundly; it had been a long time since he'd seen that kind of moonlight...
