The world was white, howling and vast.
A lone figure stood before the snowstorm, one hand separating worlds.
Wu Yan Lianzhu could never forget this scene.
Looking at the cloaked and robed figure's back, she felt that strength and immovability in the face of calamity.
Unexpectedly, she thought of the Holy Mountain, her gaze momentarily dazed.
In the entire Cha Ha Tribe, those herders who were about to flee or await their fate, gradually gathered. They all came behind this cloaked and robed person, chanting words like "God of Cangtu's protection," and piously knelt to the ground.
In front of the supernatural barrier against the endless blizzard, the herders sang ancient ballads—
"Mighty Qionglu Mountain, upholding the sky of the grassland. Great God of Cangtu, illuminating your benevolent people. From the eastern plains to the western fields, from eyes like the sea to twilight…"
