The fog had greatly hindered Bai Zhou's voyage, but he still made it to shore without any real trouble.
"Why is the fog so thick?"
Bai Zhou found it strange. He had lived on the Chali island for a long time, and fog this thick was extremely rare.
The fog was also strange. It carried a bizarre, rotten smell that was almost acrid.
Puzzled, Bai Zhou stepped onto the island and followed the familiar path back to the Chali village.
The island remained shrouded in fog, and the paths had grown muddy.
The sight of Chali figures moving within the fog made Bai Zhou sigh in relief.
After what had happened on the human island, Bai Zhou had become extremely sensitive, even fearful, of anything that seemed amiss.
Seeing the Chali people going about their normal lives, Bai Zhou finally relaxed a little.
'Maybe it's just extreme weather.'
When the Chali people saw Bai Zhou, they greeted him enthusiastically and peppered him with questions, just as they always had. Nothing had changed.
