Following the main party, Zeng Mu finally got his first glimpse of the Muxi Mountains after more than two hours of grueling trekking, emerging from the woods and wading through Creek Valley.
It was late. The sun had already sunk behind the mountains while they were passing through Creek Valley. Now the moon shone bright among scattered stars, and the mountains lay half veiled beneath the night sky, like a beauty reclining on a bed in sheer clothing. A fragrance like flowers and tea drifted over on the night breeze. Just one light breath of it left him refreshed, instantly dispelling the fatigue of the long trek.
Unlike the noisy crowd before leaving the city, the mercenary group was silent. Since they had set out, Zeng Mu had not heard a single idle remark from the hunters, only the occasional reminder or urging from Wu Di and the others.
For the hunters, silence had become a habit. Whether during a hunt or afterward, the moment they stepped onto land teeming with prey with weapons in hand, their mouths became blades, waiting for the moment to be drawn.
No one was talking now, either, so Zeng Mu could only marvel inwardly. What a wonderful place. A true haven away from the world, perfect for farming and cultivating oneself. Surely quite a few reclusive masters live somewhere like this? Yet I can't see so much as a glimmer of lamplight.
Suddenly, Zeng Mu spotted a tiny black speck flash across the mountainside opposite them. It was too far away, and the night made it difficult even for him to see clearly, but he could track its movement with ease. It moved remarkably fast, heading straight toward the mountainside where he stood.
In less than a minute, the speck reached the foot of