A few days remain until Jingzhe.
Sword Sect masters at the Crimson Palace Level have already begun their fasting rituals, aiming to face the demons of Konglan Mountain in their best state.
Scouts are indispensable, as can be seen from Song Yan's constant busyness.
Initially, there were days when no one came, but now, wounded keep arriving almost daily.
The spring rain lingers, the path outside the bamboo cabin alternately wet and dry, with many footprints temporarily solidified, some of whom are alive, others perhaps dead after returning to the battlefield.
That day, Song Yan returned from the Profound Field, placing a few new herbs on the bamboo medicine shelf, then quickly moved them inside seeing the rain was about to fall.
A few injured people hurried over from afar, and Song Yan was busy once more.
Once finished, he sat on a rocking chair under the eaves, amidst the creaking sound, gazing at the dim gray sky for a short rest.
He's been contemplating these past days.
