Each flower lost its fragrance; each blade of grass withered and flourished.
Yellow drifted across the mountains, and fallen blossoms covered the ground.
Little Qing Yi walked through the mountain forests, step by step. She had walked for half a month, yet did not know how far she had traveled.
A distance of ten thousand miles seemed an impassable chasm to a mortal like her.
But once she had set foot on this road, she had never considered giving up. Just two days into her journey, her feet had already blistered and the skin had worn away.
Blood had long since seeped from both feet, and every step brought heart-piercing pain.
Fortunately, Little Qing Yi had prepared for this before setting out and packed some medicinal herbs in her bundle.
Long illness made a good physician. Little Qing Yi had thoroughly studied all sorts of books on plants, and such superficial wounds were only simple injuries to her.
Whenever she felt the skin on her soles wearing through, she would take herbs from her bundle, chew them in her mouth, apply them to her feet, and continue onward.
While the senior in the pavilion had healed her injuries earlier, he had also helped her feet recover somewhat.
Now Little Qing Yi's steps had quickened once more.
The rain's sudden disappearance puzzled Little Qing Yi somewhat, but she did not dwell on it, merely pressing onward alone in silence.
Step by step, cautious and utterly resolute.
The mountains on either side were covered in green pines, which had not changed color even with autumn's arrival. Only the wild grasses in the forests had taken on autumn's yellow, constantly receding behind Little Qing Yi as she walked.
After the rain, mist gradually appeared among the mountains.
The mist lingered between the mountains,