Rolling hills stretched out, lush and green.
Beneath the fading afterglow of the setting sun, wisps of cooking smoke rose into the air.
Nestled among the mountains, the village's houses had been built in orderly tiers along the slopes.
Farmers toiled in the fields, hunters returned from the mountains, and laughter and the sounds of children at play drifted through the village.
At a glance, it was undeniably a rare scene of peace and tranquility.
Chu Mu stood still amid the fields. Several farmers passed along the path beside him, carrying shovels and hoes, their conversation revolving entirely around trivial matters of the farmland.
Yet these men turned a completely blind eye to Chu Mu standing at the side.
It was as though this living person simply did not exist.
Time passed. The cooking smoke within the village gradually dispersed, the lingering light of sunset vanished completely, and night fell, returning the mountain village to stillness.
When the morning sun rose in the early hours, the mountain village, quiet throughout the night, slowly came alive with noise.
Cooking smoke curled upward, and busy villagers gradually appeared in the fields.
Chu Mu remained standing there, silently observing it all without making the slightest movement.
Thus, day after day, more than a month passed.
This day, again at sunset, Chu Mu, who had stood in the fields all this time, finally began to walk, following the dirt path through the fields toward the mountain village.
There were quite a few villagers coming and going along the field paths, yet although Chu Mu made no effort whatsoever to conceal himself, they still treated him as invisible, as if he did not exist.
Upon entering the mountain village, the sight before him was no different from that of any ordinary mortal village.
Peaceful, tranquil,