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Spring ended, summer passed, and autumn arrived.
In the blink of an eye, winter descended once more, covering Cloudhill City with a thick layer of snow. Meanwhile, the unique climate of Eight-Sided Cloudhill meant that the temperature on the mountain dipped slightly, but remained pleasant overall.
The Verge, a unique cliff on Cloudhill, extended like the formidable edge of a massive blade, spanning nearly a hundred meters in length and a mere three feet in width. Below it lay the Hundred Zhang Cliff.
A young man in black robes sat cross-legged at the edge of the cliff. His robes whipped about in the howling wind, yet he remained steady.
His face, appearing no older than eighteen or nineteen, was as sharp as a saber. Years of cultivation allowed him to control his aura, and he bore an air of maturity and stability that belied his age. It was Wu Yuan!
After cultivating in solitude for over ten days, I have finally grasped the intricacies of this cliff and gained complete control. Wu Yuan slowly opened his eyes. After residing on this mountain for a year and a half, my Environmental Mastery training has finally borne fruit.
Wu...
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