After the mist tide receded, a low waterfall beside the stone steps poured into a deep pool, sending a thunderous rush of water echoing through the air.
An exceedingly long shadow circled several times beneath the water.
Soon, the shadow slowly sank to the secluded bottom of the pool, silently vanishing into its dark green depths. The water vapor thoroughly concealed the faintest trace of a fishy odor. After resting underwater for a long while, the Black Flood Dragon slowly raised his head.
The tip of his snout broke the surface. His nostrils opened as he breathed out at length, then drew in a deep breath of cool air. His nostrils closed again, and his enormous head sank back underwater. Jin Si was exceptionally patient, lying motionless in the deep water. This spot was very close to the stone steps; if any Daoists passed, he could see their every movement clearly. All he needed was a few looks at the Daoists coming and going to glean something of Pillowstar Mountain's character.
He considered himself quite clever now and could not help feeling a little pleased. Spending more than five hundred years fretting really did sharpen the mind.
He waited patiently. One day, two days, three days...
By the fourth day, the mountain path remained deserted. He had not seen a single soul.
He began to wonder whether there was something wrong with his approach.
Soaking in the icy pool, he slowly turned the matter over in his head several times before suddenly remembering that this was the Spirit Realm, not the mortal world.
There were no pilgrims coming up the mountain to offer incense, and the Daoists did not need to go down to buy rice and salt. Cultivators frequently secluded themselves and rarely ventured out.
That left him thoroughly