Chapter 81

The morning mist in the Southern Frontier hung like thick cotton, pressing heavily upon the winding mountain path. Damp vapor, heavy with the stench of rotting leaves, billowed through the air, making every breath feel cloying. Gu Jinghong and Shen Mingyue rode their horses, following the faint markers on their map. Dense forests of towering ancient trees lined the path, their gnarled, intertwined branches reaching out like countless withered hands, shredding the sunlight into fragmented spots and casting eerie shadows on the ground. The rotting leaves crunched under the horses' hooves as if a multitude of wronged souls were whimpering beneath them. The air was filled with a damp, musty odor, laced with a faint, elusive hint of sandalwood—a scent that seemed to drift in and out, at once guiding them and warning of the dangers ahead. Shen Mingyue’s horse suddenly snorted in agitation, its front hooves striking sparks against the gravel. She patted its neck to soothe it, only to find her hand covered in cold sweat—though she could not tell if it belonged to the horse or herself. Turning a bend in the mountain, a dilapidated, ancient temple came into view.