The snow kept falling harder.
A snowflake landed, seeming to weigh on Wang Xian's heart.
An inexplicable silence filled the cold wind. Even the howling gusts seemed to have their throats choked by some unseen force.
Only a low, wailing moan remained.
Ji Yaoguang's words—seemingly casual, yet carrying the fox demon clan's distinctive instinct for danger—struck without warning like an icy needle.
Even if demons and monsters had descended from the heavens, or a Succubus straight out of a dream had appeared, Wang Xian believed he could have kept a straight face.
But Ji Yaoguang's strange behavior sent a chill crawling up his spine for no reason.
He looked up instinctively. His gaze pierced the thickening veil of snow, and his divine sense spread swiftly in every direction like a spiderweb.
The first image that crossed his mind was Ye Honglian's solitary-looking figure as she departed.
Next came the man who clung to him like a shadow, making him sick—Yan Hui.
Yet the wind swept and the snow surged, and everything within sight was empty. Only a vast whiteness swallowed every outline.
Something was wrong.
Wang Xian knew Ji Yaoguang too well.
Though this woman, transformed from a fox demon, wore a smile in her eyes, her instinctive premonition of danger ran deep in her bones, sharp to the point of seeming uncanny.
She would never sound a false alarm.
Wang Xian drew a deep breath of the bitterly cold air, forcing himself to calm down and focus.
A point of light suddenly flared in his Divine Sea. His divine sense stopped searching aimlessly and condensed into a keen, invisible arrow.
It shot out with a roar, against the wind and snow, straight toward the cloud-wreathed summit.
The next moment, his vision suddenly opened up.
On the summit to the