The Qingcun Mountain stretches vast over tens of thousands of miles. Despite the thousands of cultivators entering the mountain, it was like a pebble tossed into the sea, barely stirring the faintest ripple.
As Zhang Yan's group made their way toward Nine-Headed Peak, they at first spotted a few tunneling lights here and there. But after half a day's journey, not a single shadow could be seen.
The Nine-Headed Peak was formed by nine towering and imposing cliffs, easily visible from afar. A high crown daoist chuckled as he remarked, "The Nine-Headed Mountain is counted by nines, and we happen to number nine ourselves. Is this not a sign that the fortune of the day rests with us?"
Upon hearing this, Bao Dingheng burst into hearty laughter and replied, "Daoist Gao, what an excellent observation."
The group flew at a swift pace and arrived at the mountain ridge by noon, finally alighting upon a high rock ledge.
