Half a month later.
Spring City, in the south.
The incident in Ninggu City was still at the center of public debate across the land, with all manner of rumors, true and false, spreading everywhere.
Some said the three great families had finally broken their silence.
They had sent even more terrifying experts to investigate, yet still could not break through the fog.
Others said Tiger Lian Mountain's remnants had escaped the city amid the chaos and were now roaming the south. Still others claimed the fog was slowly spreading, like a growing gangrene that would sooner or later reach other cities.
But these rumors did not have much direct impact on Spring City's ordinary citizens.
Spring City was a medium-sized coastal city in the south.
Its harbor was bustling, and its maritime trade flourished.
Every day, merchant ships large and small arrived from the South Seas, the Eastern Seas, and even farther away, unloading all kinds of cargo before taking on local tea, porcelain, and silk to sail off into the distance.
The dockworkers' chants rose and fell without pause.
The cries of street vendors were endless.
Pedestrians in clothes of every color came and went—locals, traveling merchants, blond-haired, blue-eyed foreigners, and several old-fashioned figures in long robes and mandarin jackets who looked as though they had come from inland.
The city was far too lively.
So lively that the shadow of that dead city in the north had not affected it in the slightest.
Jiang Qiao walked through Spring City's streets like an ordinary traveler. Looking at the bustling prosperity before him, he was in quite a good mood.
Shen Boxia followed behind him.
He carried an even larger bundle on his back, his face equally bright with happiness.
They had finally returned to the south.
After leaving