After the Great Dao Died

Chen Lingxi headed down the mountain.

Amid the thick fog on Ancestral Mountain, the pitch-black stone revealed itself once more, and the Credit Peddler stepped out from within.

As he watched Chen Lingxi's back vanish into the dense mist, the sly smile that had constantly hung on his young face slowly faded away.

He stood in place among the jagged rocks and churning fog, the bleak surroundings only making his coarse gray clothes look even shabbier.

Yet as he stood there, it was as if the fog blanketing the mountain, the rocks strewn across the ground, and the bleakness permeating heaven and earth were nothing but his backdrop.

He suddenly sighed.

The sigh was incredibly soft. Masked by the wind, it was almost indistinguishable unless one listened closely.

Then he raised his head and looked toward the sky.

Those eyes, which had always carried a hint of cunning and mockery, now grew profoundly deep.