The Yan Pan Mountains!
Deep in the night, the round moon hung high, casting its silver glow everywhere. This blanket of moonlight gave the mountain range an illusion of silver attire, and everything appeared hazy and blurred.
Suddenly, a hand extended from the ground. It was as pale as paper; at first glance, it looked like the hand of a dead man.
Several moments passed, and then a head emerged from the earth. It was the face of a young man, equally pale, but his brow held a resolve not found in others his age. If anyone were present, they would undoubtedly think a corpse had come back to life.
It was none other than Qin Feiyang.
He gasped for fresh air. Under the moonlight, he scanned his surroundings, his eyes filled with amazement.
Did I... survive?
After a while, he muttered to himself as he dragged his body out of the ground. Having lost his left hand, climbing out was a struggle.
I'm still in the Yan Pan Mountains. But why am I alive?
