Zhang Xiaohua had seen the dungeon atop Baiyue Peak. When he looked again at the scenery blanketing the mountain, how could he still have any leisure to appreciate it? Behind this fairyland-like beauty lay boundless darkness and equally boundless bloodshed.
Seeing no one around, he once more used the Riding the Wind Technique and headed toward the mountainside.
The area above the middle of Baiyue Peak was still somewhat deserted, nothing like the bustle of Tianmu Peak. The herb fields on the mountain were not guarded by many people either, as though they had been left barren. Presumably, the disciples of the Pill-Refining Hall knew that the summit was an important place within the hall, or perhaps the Pill-Refining Hall had rules of its own: they came only when there was work to be done and ordinarily did not approach.
Zhang Xiaohua's divine sense could not reach very far, so he had no idea whether the other side of the mountain was also, like Tianmu Peak, the territory of the Alchemy Division. Under normal circumstances, how could Zhang Xiaohua have been so obedient? He would have long since tunneled over to take a clear look. But after seeing the dungeon, his mood was deeply gloomy, and he seemed to have lost all interest.
After a while, just as he was about to reach the mountainside, the number of disciples on the mountain gradually increased. Seeing their relaxed expressions, it seemed they had little to do with the "You Lan Mu Lian."
Seeing so many people, Zhang Xiaohua did not dare show his face outside any longer. He went straight into the ground and headed for the woods behind the small courtyard.
When he returned to the courtyard, he suddenly discovered that it was silent as a grave. There was not