At three o'clock in the afternoon, raindrops were like needles, pricking into the thick darkness of Wolong Mountain.
Lin Chen clung to the cold stone wall, like a weightless shadow.
He held his breath and allowed the rain to flow down the worn raincoat, soaking into the coarse cloth inside that was already soaked with sweat.
Beneath him was the Yunxiao Sect that had been burned to ruins by a fire three years ago. The broken walls and ruins stood up in the night, like the skeleton of a giant beast that had not fallen down after death.
The air was filled with the smell of scorched earth, rotten wood and some kind of cold moisture, which was very pungent.
He raised his head and looked across the ruins of a messy martial arts arena, landing on the faintly swaying halo of torches on the mountain road in the distance.
Those were the guards left by the Tianzun Palace. Three years later, these hyenas have not even planned to let go of the bones and scum, and they still guard this "dangerous place" decently.
"Bad luck." Lin Chen grinned silently, and the tip of his tongue tasted the rusty taste brought by the rain. He didn't know if it was an old wound in his mouth, or if the place was already soaked in blood.
He is not here to pay his respects, let alone to do archeology.
