The flying ship streaked across the sky like a meteor.
Shi Man stood at the prow, guiding the flying ship onward.
The flying ship skimmed over a vast, mist-shrouded river. Ahead, a thin layer of bluish-gray fog gradually spread between heaven and earth.
They had reached the borders of Rotting Miasma Ridge.
Tang Gui, Sang Bu, and Song Wen stood at different points on the deck, vigilantly watching their surroundings.
Just then.
Chi Pei emerged from the Ship Pavilion behind them, straightening his slightly disheveled robes as he walked.
"Rotting Miasma Ridge is fraught with danger. You must remain vigilant and never let down your guard." Chi Pei seemed to feel that his current appearance had damaged his dignity, so he tried to divert the attention of the four people on deck by issuing an order they had already been carrying out.
"Yes, sir!" the four replied.
No sooner had they spoken than Qiluo also emerged from the Ship Pavilion.
"Young Master, this is only the outermost edge of Rotting Miasma Ridge. There is no danger here. The two of us should return to our room and rest."
Chi Pei rubbed his aching lower back, his expression darkening.
"No. A great battle is imminent. I must conserve my strength and sleep with my weapon at my side."
Qiluo curled her lips. A trace of mockery flashed deep in her eyes, as though she were laughing at Chi Pei's "weakness and incompetence."
Then, her gaze unconsciously turned toward Song Wen.
Song Wen noticed Qiluo's look, but acted as though he had not. He continued surveying everything around them with vigilance.
The flying ship threaded through the miasma at an unhurried pace.
Time quietly slipped away as they traveled.
In the blink of an eye, two months passed.
Shi Man still controlled