The fifteenth, late at night.
Black Mountain Ridge.
Fifty li northwest of Spirit City stood an inconspicuous barren mountain.
Its slopes were steep, its strange rocks jagged, and its trees sparse. A layer of gray mist shrouded it year-round.
It was said to have once been an ancient battlefield, thick with yin energy. Strange sounds often emerged at midnight, and ordinary people avoided it at all costs.
Gui Mei liked this place.
On the night of every full moon, he came alone to the highest point of Black Mountain Ridge, sat cross-legged atop a black boulder, and circulated his special cultivation technique.
In places thick with yin energy, cultivating the Ghost Shadow Martial Soul yielded twice the results with half the effort.
He had maintained this habit for more than a decade, and no one had ever disturbed him.
Tonight was no different.
A ghostly green glow emanated from Gui Mei's body, forming a faint force field around him that blended with the gray mist in the mountains.
The phantom of the Ghost Shadow Martial Soul emerged behind him, like a mass of insubstantial ghostfire swaying endlessly in the night wind.
Gui Mei closed his eyes. Soul Power slowly flowed through his meridians as he absorbed the yin energy of Black Mountain Ridge and converted it into his own Soul Power.
Everything was normal.
But Gui Mei failed to notice that the moment he closed his eyes to cultivate, a pair of Dark Golden Dragon Eyes was watching him from the distant darkness.
Dugu Bo had concealed every trace of his aura. The Nine Nether Power had been compressed to its utmost limit, without leaking the slightest bit.
His heartbeat was slow and steady, his breathing nearly imperceptible. His entire body had merged with the surrounding darkness.
Zhao Hei's memories