Chapter 111
Southern banks of the Yangtze River, deep in the valleys of Mount Huangshan.
A man with a fan made of crane feathers clasped behind his back ascended the mountain, humming quietly to himself.
His steps appeared unhurried, even leisurely. Yet with every step he took, the landscape around him seemed to shift and blur—such was the astonishing skill of his light footwork.
At a certain point, the man stopped walking.
“...Hmm.”
He stood before a pit that had once served as a dumping ground where man-eating beasts discarded human corpses.
But now, there were no human remains. The pit was filled with the bodies of beasts alone.
Someone had passed through, slain the monsters of the forest, and disposed of their corpses.
“Hm, hm...”
From that spot, the man began to walk again—slowly, as though enjoying a peaceful stroll through the mountains. But his eyes swept the surroundings with sharp intent.
Eventually, he came to a stop atop a mountain peak.
“...Someone’s been here.”