Having not seen it for a few days, the fox immortal’s temple remained standing tall on its original tiny mountain slope, only it was even more derelict, like a stack of ruins in the dim night. The river flowed right into the expansive waters behind the mountain.


    There was no wind or rain this evening, the moonlight bright. The shore of the lake held cragged rocks, its water deep and without ripples, an unspeakably eerie coldness permeating it. Yan Xiaohan dismounted his horse, then stood for a long time beside the lake, staring at the deep blue water half-consciously. Only at that moment did he finally think of what had been so off about this place.