Beyond the Fengshan Mountain Range lay Western Rong.
Western Rong bordered the Western Regions to the north and covered an immense territory, but the Hundred Thousand Mountains and the Gobi Desert blanketed it. Nine-tenths of it was uninhabited, and its living conditions were only a little better than the Southern Border's barren mountains and treacherous waters.
Constrained by their natural surroundings, the tribes of Western Rong still governed themselves independently. Official records listed over two hundred small tribes that had traveled to Luojing to offer tribute and solicit gifts. Even Great Qian could not ascertain exactly how many peoples and fortified settlements were scattered throughout its interior, referring to them collectively in its books as the tribes of Western Rong.
At dusk, above the endless mountains.
Xie Jinhuan flew over the wilderness with a beauty tucked under each arm, studying the courses of the mountains and waterways.
Linghu Qingmo held a booklet containing all manner of information the Fengshan Society had collected over the years, including tribal locations, movements of monsters and evil entities, and local treasures and materials. It also included a rough map marked with several red circles: the possible locations where the previous opportunity had appeared, as Duan Yuechou had deduced from his investigations.
The distance from southern to northern Western Rong was roughly equivalent to crossing all of Great Qian. The territory was too vast to traverse in an instant, even with a rough map, and the journey was somewhat monotonous.
When the three had arrived yesterday, they had joked and chatted to pass the time. Today, however, all three of them and the bird had fallen into a peculiar silence.
Coal Ball had been infuriated last night and wanted nothing to do with work. The bird simply perched on Xie Jinhuan's shoulder to hitch a