Human Fortune

The cave dwelling's gates were tightly shut.

The heavy green-jade doors flowed with restrained spiritual radiance, separating the inside and outside into two different worlds.

Before the cave dwelling lay a small platform carved from an entire slab of mountain rock, smooth and level.

The night had grown deep.

Cold moonlight shone down, casting the stone platform in a dim bluish-green sheen, like a frozen Cold Pool.

Beyond the platform's edge was a bottomless cliff.

The wind wailed like muffled sobs.

Chen San stood at the center of the platform. He did not dare approach the cave dwelling's gates too closely, afraid of displeasing its master.

Under the moonlight, he seemed to stand within a Cold Pool.

At this moment, his lean body was stretched taut, yet his back was habitually bent slightly. His head hung low, making him resemble a stone statue frozen in shadow.

The Flying Letter reporting back had already passed through the gates and vanished without a trace. Chen San had no idea whether any cultivator inside the cave dwelling had received his message.

The night wind carried the chill of the mountaintop as it spiraled up from beneath the sheer cliff, whimpering mournfully. It raised a layer of tiny goosebumps along his exposed neck.

The cold seeped into the cracks of his bones, yet he barely noticed it.

Whenever the wind briefly quieted, he instinctively held his breath and pricked up his ears, trying to catch even the faintest sound from behind the gates—footsteps, a soft cough, even the subtle hum of spiritual energy flowing.

Yet all he received was deeper silence.

The cave dwelling's gates before him were like an indifferent giant mouth, swallowing every one of his hopes.

Then I'll wait until dawn, to show my sincerity. He sighed inwardly. His hands and