In the early morning, sunlight streamed through the window, softly falling across Zhang Fan's face.
He slowly opened his eyes, dust in the air drifting lazily in the sunlight, and his eyelashes quivered suddenly.
"Dragon Tiger Mountain!"
Zhang Fan murmured softly, tasting the name on his lips; last night's dream, however, was remarkably vivid.
Ever since he left Zhenwu Mountain to start at Night is not bright, and after sparring with Wen He, Zhang Fan often dreamed of that car accident when he was twelve.
Yet every time, the dream was almost exactly the same: pitch black, nothing at all could be seen.
But this time, something was different, and remarkably clear, as if he'd just experienced it yesterday.
"Dragon Tiger Mountain!" Zhang Fan mused.
That's one of the Ten Great Taoist Sects' famous peaks. But as a tourist area, it's only rated 4A; supposedly because the main summit isn't open to tourists, so normal visitors can't go up.
