At dusk the next day, two kilometers away from Hariri's valley on the Mountain Ridge.
The sunset's afterglow spilled down, covering this barren wilderness in a layer of golden light. A mighty eagle soared high in the sky, occasionally letting out a sharp cry that echoed across the heavens, bringing a touch of vitality to the serene wilderness. The wind gently brushed through the Mountain Ridge, swaying the low dry grass. In a patch of shrubbery, Luo Zheng watched his surroundings vigilantly, dressed in a camouflage suit adorned with many strands of dry grass. Once prone on the ground, it was impossible to tell real from fake at close range.
