Moyun Peak was just ahead.
On the pillar-like peak, eroded by wind and rain, there was no man-made path to the summit.
This was mainly because the top was barren earth and rock, devoid of any greenery, so no one had bothered to make one.
Aside from Cultivators, only poets and scholars would go to the trouble of climbing this mountain to leave behind their writings, seeking fame and fortune.
However, in these chaotic times, no scholar had the leisure to come here and express their feelings.
Bai Mo and the other two had started climbing before dawn, and by the time they reached the summit plateau, an hour had passed.
Under the piercing sunlight, a figure sat cross-legged on the summit.
Zhao Jingyu, carrying the coffin, squinted against the sun and recognized the person.
"Wuyin?"
She was the only female among the outer sect disciples on this mission, and she had a somewhat cold personality.
Wan Shenxiu's eyes were dry, so he looked away, glancing around.
