With each passing day, Zhou Heng grew a little stronger.
Every day, he could form a new Celestial River!
However, unlike the Star Realm, where a great star sat at the center and drew the surrounding stars into its embrace, the forty-seven Celestial Rivers within Zhou Heng were all the same size. There was no question of which embraced which; they simply lay scattered in a chaotic jumble throughout his Dantian space.
After all, he could not be allowed to take every advantage for himself.
Though everyone now held greater hopes for spirit herbs, finding even the tiniest thing in this snowfield that did not belong to ice and snow was like fishing for a needle in the sea! Encountering that white bear had already been incredibly "fortunate"—though it had been bad luck.
Another ten days passed. Before them still stretched boundless wind and snow, while the scenery around them showed not the slightest difference.
Had they not all been high-level martial artists with an exceptionally strong sense of direction, they would have long since lost their way here.
Ever since that "accident," Zhou Heng had encountered no further mishaps.
Perhaps it truly had been an accident. Or perhaps it had not; perhaps the culprit simply believed it had failed, and that the same trick could not possibly fool the strong twice, so they had decided to stop for now and wait for a better chance to strike.
For half the year, this snowfield remained locked in daylight, while the other half was entirely night. Zhou Heng and the others had arrived during the polar day. Both sky and ground were a vast expanse of white, making it impossible to distinguish one from the other.
Besides white bears, there were other demon beasts here: a low-level species called Prairie Goose.