Chapter 152

The mist at the entrance of Canglong Valley was thicker than it was outside, clinging to one’s face like shredded cotton. Gu Qinghuan sniffed. Beneath the scent of pine needles lay a damp, raw earthy odor—the smell of moss beneath the mountain rocks, soaked through by the fog. Pi Yanlin kicked a pebble aside and looked up at the massive stele spanning the valley entrance. The stone, twice the height of a man, was covered in spiderweb-like cracks, its ancient seal script worn and uneven, resembling teeth gnawed away by the passage of time.