Night at New North Bridge was similar to the summer nights of other places in the capital, brimming with the stifling heat of summer. The grass was littered with people endlessly fanning themselves with palm-leaf fans. Many people used the hand not holding the fan to carry a bag of ice. Chen Changsheng waited for a very long time until an ideal chance came for him to go from the tree to the well and jump in.
It was still that familiar feeling of falling, that icy chill that bored into the bones. None of the torrid summer heat above could be found in this underground space. The thick mantle of snow on the ground signified that this place would always be the cruel winter.
As he watched the Black Dragon slowly float over like a moving mountain range, although he had seen this sight many times before, he still found it impossible to control his emotions, feeling almost scared witless.
