"Boom"
The night was as dark as ink, and the serene Yunding Mountain meandered, resembling a painted scroll of mountains and waters under the brush of heaven and earth.
Suddenly, the beating of a drum, like the shattering of a silver vase.
Rumbling through the mountains!
At the foot of the Ninth Mountain, on the training field, with this sound, the warhorses, well-trained, whinnied, their noses puffing out thick white breaths, hooves scraping the ground, growing restless.
These newly recruited troops and horses, puzzled by the agitation beneath them, stirred up a cacophony of noise and commotion.
"What's going on?" someone asked, adjusting their heavy helmet.
"It seems to be the sound of drums."
As the words fell, another drumbeat arrived.
Then a third, a fourth, growing more urgent.
The warhorses underfoot became even more frenzied.
Ahead, Liu Qing and Yun Tiansheng, three Piaoqi, their faces tensed, their gazes capturing everything within three feet.
