At the foot of Tu Bai Mountain.
In an inconspicuous valley.
There is a pavilion beside a frozen lake.
At this moment, snow is thick, and the entire valley is filled with silence.
In front of the pavilion, an elderly man with white hair sits cross-legged on the ground.
His body is covered in thick snow, as if he has been sitting in the snow for a long time.
In front of him, a sword is planted in the ground.
A sword wholly blood-red.
The blade is embedded in the ground seven inches deep.
Shockingly, within a meter radius centered on the sword, the snow melts upon contact, with not even a drop of snowmelt remaining.
Suddenly.
The blood-red long sword begins to tremble, emitting a sound of sword ringing.
The old man's eyes abruptly open.
In an instant, all the snow on his body disappears.
The old man slowly stands up, and the blood-red long sword in front of him slightly shakes then shoots up into his hand.
