Zixiao Mountain, towering and steep, surrounded by ranges of mountains.
Gazing from afar, one could see nine peaks situated between the mountain foothills, rising from the ground, their majesty so overwhelming that even from a hundred miles away one would be shaken to the core by the splendid view.
Clouds and mists twined around, with the mountain tops appearing ethereal, and although he had been here for a full three days, the youth would still spend a long while staring into the distance whenever he had a moment of leisure.
Even though his current realm was modest, the faint aura of immortality atop the Nine Peaks was truly captivating.
He had rummaged through Wang Qi's memories for many things, and the final image that fixated in his mind was that of the man carrying his bundle, unwilling to look back, facing the towering immortal mountain that rose into the clouds.
His gaze retracted.
