A thousand miles of cold majesty stretched before the eye; jade stood tall as the lofty snow mountains.
Atop a snow mountain several hundred zhang high, the howling, biting winds—sharp as blades and swords—were dispersed by an invisible force.
Though the broad summit was buried beneath deep snow and chilled to the bone, not a ripple stirred there, not even a thread of cold wind. It seemed like an entirely different world from the outside, the boundary between them stark and clear.
A figure sat cross-legged atop a large bluish stone at the mountain's peak.
His back was ramrod straight, his robes billowing. Above his head unfurled a scroll-like painting of chaos, its profound blackness like an abyss that drew in the eye.
"Stillness breeds the urge to move. He actually went to Lingwu City. Interesting. Could it be that he saw an opportunity?"
As the view drew closer, the cross-legged man appeared to be around thirty. His eyes were sharply black and white, his brows gentle and level. He looked kind-hearted and amiable, exceedingly approachable. Yet the occasional glint of coldness in his shifting gaze made one shudder.
Behind him stood a very young and beautiful woman. Her nose was jade-like, her teeth white as shells, and her almond eyes hazy. She was not the sort of striking beauty with aggressively vivid features; rather, her appearance was gentle, like water seeping silently into the heart and nourishing all things without a sound.
"Most likely. Meng Zhao's battle with the Heavenly Demon Palace Lord shook the martial world, and everyone in the Northern Lands knows about it. He must have received the news as well.
"And Meng Zhao sent someone to invite him out of seclusion and bring him to Lingwu City. It is only natural that he would be