On the shaded side of Bai Jiao Mountain, wind and cloud surged, as two terrifying auras churned the heavens.
Spiritual Qi hung down from the high sky, incomparably dense, actually turning into threads of spiritual rain that fused into the falling raindrops. As the rain plunged into the great river, each drop seemed to weigh a thousand catties, raising waves half a zhang high.
On the fishing boats by the riverbank, fishermen clad in straw raincoats—men whose food, clothing, and shelter year-round all depended on their boats—saw their faces drastically change. Above their heads, beneath the dark clouds, faintly could be seen two beams of brilliant light clashing and grinding against each other in a fierce confrontation.
