Western Mountains Foot.
Trees on both banks were reflected on the water, while water vapor lingered in the air, hazy and indistinct.
If someone came here for an outing under normal circumstances, it could indeed give them a feeling of inner peace and detachment from the world.
Unfortunately, the situation was not so pleasant now.
A sudden downpour had turned the sandy road into a muddy mess.
A black sedan slowly drove over from the distance, crushing through the yellow mud and water before stalling and pulling over by the roadside.
A figure in a military green raincoat quickly climbed out of the car.
They opened the trunk and dragged out a rather heavy black woven sack that looked as if it contained stones.
Then they hugged the sack tightly with both arms, crossed a large patch of rustling weeds, and headed toward the riverbank not far away.
This was the upper reaches of the Blackwater River, a tributary of the Tai River.
The river was not turbulent. Instead, it appeared unusually calm and deep.
Looking over, the center of the river seemed as if a mass of black ink had been pressed beneath its surface.
Splash!
The woven sack was thrown high into the air from the riverbank.
The sack, weighing several hundred pounds, slammed into the water and sent up a great sheet of spray.
Then it quickly sank downward until it vanished completely from sight.
Fang Cheng stood on the riverbank, silently looking at the water.
His eyes, visible beneath the hood of his raincoat, seemed slightly lost in thought.
Raindrops lightly tapped the water, stirring up faint ripples.
The ripples then merged into larger, more turbulent waves.
"Whew—"
Fang Cheng calmly exhaled, and his eyes once again shone brightly.
Two hours earlier, an unexpected battle had