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There really was a true immortal on Yunding Mountain.
At this moment, Yunding Mountain and the immortal on it were both above the clouds on the opposite side, separated only by a cliff.
Within the cliff gathered thick mist, much denser than described in Cui Nanxi’s writings. The fog rose and not only obscured the only iron chain path leading to the other side of the cliff, but also made the scenery atop Yunding Mountain and the figure on it appear faint and elusive, as if everything were an illusion.
The mountain wind stirred, and the mist flowed. The iron chains swayed faintly, producing a crisp clinking sound.
On the misty side of the mountain stood a dozen or so climbers, mostly seekers of immortals and Daoists, all excited but none daring to cross the iron chains. They just stared longingly toward the front of the chains, deep into the mist, as if waiting for some outcome, frequently glancing up at the mist atop the mountain.
When the fog thinned, they would all remind each other. When the fog thickened, they sighed in disappointment. It was like mountain climbers waiting for the sunrise.
The figure sitting atop Yunding Mountain seemed to be the wondrous sight they braved countless mountains and rivers to witness.
“Clink, clink...”
The sound of the iron chains swaying rang out again.
Then, a faint figure appeared in the mist, climbing back.
The magistrate, itching to see the immortal, hurried over as the figure got closer. He greeted him and helped him down. Then together with the others, he asked, “How was it?”
The person...
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