The Netherworld was shrouded in a bleak wind and sorrowful, hazy mist, while undercurrents gradually began to brew.
Yan Beihan was in the Netherworld's guest quarters.
They were called guest quarters, but they were practically half a mountain. Houses stretched one after another, birds sang and flowers bloomed, and several enormous gardens dotted the grounds. Even the rockeries were actual mountains.
"The Netherworld... has rather nice scenery."
Yan Beihan said, "Mei'er, if I remember correctly, this mountain has a history, doesn't it?"
"Yes."
Zhou Meier looked at the map and said, "This entire region has always been shrouded in thick fog, so no one knew about it before."
"But once we arrived here, everything became clear. This is the legendary Wangchuan Mountain Range."
"It was said that, long ago, there was an unparalleled expert named Wangchuan. Later, in a single battle, he flattened countless great mountains. Yet some continuous mountain ranges became new ranges because of that battle... Of course, that's only a legend."
Zhou Meier said, "This Wangchuan was supposedly the founder of a mysterious organization."
"Judging by things now, that organization was the Netherworld. And the Wangchuan mountains occupied by the Netherworld should be the legendary Wangchuan Mountain Range."
She looked down and said, "This is Wangchuan!"
Yan Beihan wore loose robes and a light sash. She had already changed into a snow-white Glacier Spirit Sable Fur cloak. Her peerless face was wrapped in its whiteness, her hair flowed like clouds, and her beauty seemed too ethereal for the mortal world.
She raised a hand slightly to accept a cup of crimson spirit wine from the maid beside her, took a small sip, and said, "So this Wangchuan was the Netherworld's so-called founding patriarch. In other words, all those claims about the Netherworld being bestowed by the heavens,