After the year-end exams, the Eternal Immortal Sect returned to stability.
In late December, as the end of the year approached, the accumulated snow covered the mountains, turning them into a silver-white landscape. The swirling snow mist made the Twelve Immortal Peaks of the Eternal Immortal Sect and the massive Zhe Lan Mountain Range behind them appear even more ethereal and illusory. The cold air faintly condensed into long and slender ice crystals, which, with the gusts of mountain wind, intertwined into a bleak scenery.
After completing his morning breathing exercises, Fan Wubing left his room.
The cold wind blew by, and although his vigorous energy was unafraid, he instinctively shrank his neck, tightened his clothes, and turned his head to look at Luo Qingyao's room.
The door remained tightly closed, with a lingering obscure aura seeping out from within.
