There has always been a legend circulating in Xuan Yang.
It tells of the far north of the Northern Plains, a world of snow, of permafrost that never melts, a realm of eternal white.
However, very few people from Xuan Yang have ever managed to reach it.
And even if they could, it was incredibly difficult to return.
Therefore, the Profound People knew almost nothing about what lay north of the Northern Plains.
Now, Bai Yuan could testify that the legend was true.
Mr. Yuan had flown with him all this way. Bai Yuan had watched as they crossed Cang Mang Mountain and ventured into the even more distant north. This was the place of legends.
'It's probably like the... Arctic from my past life?'
A strange thought popped into Bai Yuan's head.
After his earlier words, Mr. Yuan had fallen silent. He simply walked quietly through the snow, leaving a trail of footprints behind.
He probably could have flown directly to their destination, but in the end, he chose to walk.
