A year ago, the deadly grounds of Jiangbei's mass grave had claimed the lives of dozens of Feng Shui Masters, yet Lai Zhuge, without a second thought, charged into the malevolent site alone. Fear was a foreign concept to him, and he felt not even a hint of nervousness.
But now, atop Horse Hoof Ridge, a place devoid of any sinister or cold aura, he had lost his nerve. A final sliver of reason, deep in the recesses of his mind, warned him not to advance any further. This sixth sense, something he had almost never experienced, screamed at him relentlessly, draining him of all his courage.
He shook his head bitterly and, in the end, heeded the call of his intuition. He froze in place, taking not another step forward, yet his eyes remained fixed on the pitch-black darkness ahead.
Although Qin Fan was sitting cross-legged in the field of Gathering Spirit Grass, Lai Zhuge couldn't perceive any sign of him in the dark night.
