You are the world, the world is you.

"One more thing. Is this the entrance to Dragon Valley?"

Situ Xuan's gaze passed over the old man's shoulder and fell on the little hut behind him. The hut stood alone on the mountaintop, with no other buildings around it. Behind it was a cliff, and below the cliff churned a sea of clouds.

Leaning on his cane, the old man slowly turned and looked toward the cliff. His movements were very slow, so slow they looked as if they were being played in slow motion. But his body was steady, and his cane tapped against the rock with dull thuds.

"Yes."

The old man nodded, his voice calm.

Situ Xuan started walking toward the edge of the cliff.

He passed by the old man, less than two meters away. He passed in front of the hut's door, less than one meter away. He walked to the edge of the cliff, with a bottomless Abyss beneath his feet and an endless sea of clouds before his eyes.

He stood there at the cliff's edge, his robes fluttering in the wind, his long hair flying. Set against the sea of clouds, his back looked especially tall, and especially lonely.

The old man looked at Situ Xuan's back, and a complicated glimmer flashed through his cloudy eyes. He had kept watch here for many years—many, many years—and had seen all kinds of people. Some came searching for Dragon Valley, some came to pay respects to the ruins, some came to try their luck, and some came seeking death. But he had never seen anyone like Situ Xuan, standing before the entrance to Dragon Valley with eyes as calm as if he were looking at an ordinary landscape.

Leaning on his cane, the old man slowly walked up behind Situ Xuan and stopped