The mountain path was winding and treacherous, just as Liu Ting described, it was not an easy walk.
The thin mist was dark and cold, piercing the skin with a chill. The two living souls walking in this underworld felt deeply uncomfortable, as if enduring a relentless cycle of cold days and warm nights that gradually eroded their sanity.
After wandering for an indeterminate amount of time, they reached a section of the path leading up the mountain. The group of men visibly slowed their pace, as wafts of jerky aroma drifted towards them.
Chen Yi looked up and saw a slightly dilapidated courtyard appearing above the mountain path, with clusters of greenish-yellow heartbreak grass densely packed in the corners.
The group of men slowly led the two into the courtyard, with Liu Ting noting that it was getting late and suggesting they rest in the courtyard overnight, to resume their journey early the next morning. He indicated for the two to rest at the stone table in the yard.
