Beidou Star Territory, deep in the Immortal Burial Valley.
The cold moon is like frost, shining on the mountains made of billions of dead bones, glowing with a cold white light. There is no wind in the valley, but there are whimpering sounds lingering, like the whispers of ancient resentful souls, and like the lingering rhyme of the Tao. A slender figure stood quietly in front of the desolate tomb in the heart of the valley. Her long black skirt was trailing to the ground, and the skirt was embroidered with ancient bronze patterns that had been lost for a long time, looming in the moonlight.
She didn't exude any pressure, but she made the deathly silence around her freeze. Her black hair is like a waterfall, hanging down around her waist. A strand of black hair in front of her forehead covers half of her eyes, and the remaining pupils are as deep as an eternal cold pool. They are neither happy nor sad, as if they have seen the birth and death of the universe and the rotation of stars. He held an inconspicuous piece of dead wood staff in his hand. The body of the staff was full of cracks, but there was a vague dragon's energy dormant - it was a purple gold staff with divine marks that had hit all the invincible hands in the world in the past. It had lost its edge under the erosion of the years, leaving only the vicissitudes of life all over it.
