An hour later, Mo Hua saw Dragon Spring Waterfall.
The Sishui cut across the land, green mountains and black cliffs rising around it.
The rushing river was like a bolt of white silk, hanging upside down as it plunged to form a waterfall, then torn apart by the rocks and scattered down like draped satin.
Beautiful and magnificent.
The three of them stared, somewhat astonished, three pairs of eyes shining bright.
Immortal City was comparatively dry, with many mountains and few rivers.
Mo Hua had never seen such a great waterfall either.
Bai Zisheng and Bai Zixi, though born of an aristocratic family, had been raised within the clan when they were young, and when they went out, they traveled the main roads in haste, so they too had rarely seen such a natural wonder.
The waterfall splashed onto the mountain rocks, shattering into droplets, round and lustrous as jade.
The clouds in the mountains and the mist from the waterfall blurred together into one, weaving the sunlight into gorgeous colors.
Mo Hua watched, absorbed, then suddenly felt a little puzzled.
"Master, why is this waterfall called Dragon Spring Waterfall?"
It was just a waterfall. There was neither a dragon nor a spring.
And judging by its appearance, it did not look like a dragon either.
Mr. Zhuang's gaze swept over the waterfall and fell on the seven-colored water mist, his expression somewhat emotional.
"A sword was once hidden here. The sword was named Dragon Spring, so the waterfall is also called Dragon Spring."
"Dragon Spring Sword..."
Mo Hua murmured the name, then asked, "Was it a good sword?"
Mr. Zhuang was slightly startled. His gaze turned obscure, and he murmured, "It was a good sword. Very worthy of its master..."
As if recalling something from the past, Mr. Zhuang's