Behind the main peak of Hanging Mountain, clouds and mist swirled around a thousand-zhang waterfall that hung like the Milky Way cascading from the heavens, its roar deafening. Han Li slipped silently out from behind it, pushing his Essence-Concealing Technique to its utmost. His aura blended with the mountain's moisture and mist. After sweeping his Profound Yin Spirit Eye across the surroundings and confirming that no one had followed him, he became a barely perceptible phantom and stole toward a location marked on the fragmentary map in his memory.
He did not head straight to the Taizhen Sect's encampment, but first detoured to a desolate valley on the outskirts of Hanging Mountain. According to the map fragment, the ruins of an Ancient Teleportation Array might lie there. Jagged rocks littered the valley, and its withered vegetation showed no sign of life. Han Li examined it carefully with his Profound Yin Spirit Eye and, sure enough, discovered traces of a buried array foundation beneath a collapsed cliff. Unfortunately, its spiritual markings had been badly worn down by the ages, and its core was utterly destroyed. Repair was impossible.
What a pity, Han Li sighed inwardly, though he was not discouraged. Finding these ruins proved that the fragmentary map was not smoke without fire; perhaps intact arrays remained at the other marked locations. He swiftly erased all traces of his visit, then turned and left. He needed an escape route, but his meeting with the Taizhen Sect was even more pressing.
By the time the sun stood high, Han Li had reached the Taizhen Sect's temporary encampment on Hanging Mountain-a cluster of elegant buildings southeast of the main peak, shrouded in faint auspicious clouds. Spiritual energy abounded here, and the tranquil setting stood in stark contrast to the chaos and clamor elsewhere