Ten years ago, the ninth day of the ninth lunar month.
Late at night.
At the foot of Dragon Tiger Mountain!!
Deep in the mountains, the blaze sends up wolf smoke, the vast night shrouded in thunder, in the distance several glimmers of spiritual light flicker, hidden within the rising mist.
"That the dignified Human Xiao would die just like this—it's truly like a dream."
The aged voice echoed through the night as a gaunt figure fixed his gaze on the distance.
"So many masters gathered at the foot of Dragon Tiger Mountain—if none can hold her, then she really has reached the heavens."
Under the moon, Lou Hechuan held an antique earthen jar, surrounded by lit candles; both hands formed seals, his entire spirit focused on the corpse lying before him, long since bereft of life.
