This place is remote, surrounded by mountains on three sides, who would pass through here?
Chen Pingping smiled without a word, quietly observing him, while also speculating about the man's identity and origin.
His appearance is ordinary, and so is his attire.
But overall, he gives off an indescribable eeriness, and more, a deep unfathomability.
The Undying King?
His heart suddenly trembled.
Ni'er had foretold that the Undying King is about to descend, yet amidst that slaughter, the King did not appear.
The night is silent, all sounds extinguished.
Only an occasional breeze sweeps by, stirring up dust on the ground, intermittently bringing a few fallen leaves, adding a touch of autumn melancholy.
"What's your name?" the middle-aged man asked.
"Chen Pingping, and you?"
"Me?" The man paused, recalling carefully.
It has been too long, he has forgotten his own name.
