Lü Yue knew nothing of the thoughts and musings of those outside the valley. Following behind the young man, he passed through one killing formation after another and gained a deeper understanding of Hidden Dragon Valley, where Xie Wanzhi lived in seclusion.
The terrain here was broad and open, while thick fog shrouded the surroundings. Some kind of bewildering formation was likely at work. Once one stepped inside without crucial, clear guidance along the proper route, it was all too easy to lose one's way and perish within the grand formation, which bristled with killing intent.
It was simply unclear whether Xie Wanzhi had set up these formations himself or hired someone to do so.
After roughly a quarter of an hour, the two finally passed through layer upon layer of grand formations and arrived within a bamboo grove, before a three-story wooden building.
This bamboo grove was hidden within the valley. Every stalk stood dozens of meters tall and was as thick as an arm, its surface gleaming with a purplish-golden hue. They were no ordinary variety of bamboo.
In a cleared open space within the grove stood a small building steeped in classical charm. Its eaves spread like a bird's wings, and though its brown exterior was dusted with gray, it gave off no sense of coldness, desolation, or gloom. Instead, it was suffused with the weight of passing years and ancient vicissitudes.
To the east of the wooden building ran a babbling stream, its source and destination unknown, watering and nourishing this patch of land.
The scenery was beautiful, idyllic—but none of that was what mattered. What mattered was the man reclining and gently swaying in a wicker chair before the little wooden building, utterly relaxed and at ease.
The young man who had led the way