In the Great Mountain, dense fog enveloped, and the mist above the river seemed to rise as if it were the river's own evaporation, resembling an Immortal Realm.
Xu Binghu stepped into the river, the icy water incessantly washing over his feet, yet there was no discomfort at all; he simply moved towards the direction of the flower petals.
"This bewildering miasma and mist are actually growing thicker and thicker!"
Xu Binghu sighed as he continued walking.
The mist had become countless times denser than before, and time seemed to be frozen, imperceptible in its passing, as if it wished to devour everything.
It was terrifying. Very unsettling.
"Huh?"
Suddenly, Xu Binghu halted, but beneath him, he could still feel the river's flow passing by his feet, standing right in the middle of the river.
"After walking for so long, how come I still haven't seen the snake head falling into the river?"
