The mist in Canglong Valley was even denser than at Mirror Lake, clinging like unmelting ink to the blades of their weapons until it seemed capable of seeping out the scent of blood-rust.
Gu Qinghuan’s scabbard collided with the bronze bell at her waist, the sharp chime startling three blue-eyed crows into flight. As the birds swept in a flurry of wings over their heads, she reached back and clamped her hand around Pi Yanlin’s wrist: "Stop."
Pi Yanlin was chewing on half a cold roasted sweet potato and was yanked forward so hard he stumbled, sending crumbs cascading down his collar. He raised his eyes lazily to see that ten paces ahead on the bluestone path, seven half-person-tall stone monuments stood in the formation of the Big Dipper. The central monument was already splitting with spiderweb-like cracks. "Tsk—Qinghuan, look, that monument is shaking."
Chapter 178