The so-called Panlong Mountain, though its name sounds mighty and awe-inspiring, is actually not very high, just under three hundred meters. It was the height of summer at this time, and the mountain, piled with rubble, was covered with all sorts of wild shrubs. The sky was growing dark, and the occasional cries of unknown birds and beasts from the mountains added to its desolation.
Ou Mingxuan gazed into the distance, realizing after a long look that there was only this one mountain nearby. He couldn't help but mutter to himself with some speechlessness, "I thought it was some famous mountain, but it's just a little barren hill! It seems like no one has been here for a long time..."
Looking at the desolate mountain in front of them, everyone frowned deeply. Although the mountain wasn't high, it wasn't exactly low either, especially for a pregnant woman. At this moment, they really didn't know whether to hope she had come here or not.
