But he had never thought of it, and neither had the people around him.
It was as if something had been blocked from their minds.
When Wen Ying brought it up, the concept seemed to burst forth, reappearing in his mind.
This wasn't normal.
He was now one of this world's masters—at least, as far as he could see.
Yet he was still being blocked.
When he uttered the name Yellow Springs Road, a road appeared in his mind.
It was a barren road of scorched earth, with not a single blade of grass in sight.
Not a hint of life existed.
The place was utterly silent. It seemed that besides him and Chaochao, no one else was there.
As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but the Yellow Springs Road, forged from yellow earth.
And there seemed to be no end in sight.
A black mist gradually appeared, obscuring their vision, but it dissipated under the power of Chaochao's blood.
They saw a river at the end of the road—a dark, crimson river.
