A middle-aged scholar dressed in Confucian robes is trekking through the depths of the Eternal Night Snow Mountain.
A young woman follows a few steps behind him.
Unlike other tourists who come here and try to dress as warmly as possible, they are both in their usual attire.
"Mr. He, do we really need to come here in person?" the young woman asks, panting.
He Youyi climbs a nearly vertical peak, standing on a spot that can only accommodate one person, looking into the distance. An enormous pit with no visible end comes into view, and above it, peaks densely cluster together, each floating. Any one of these could be a peak elsewhere on the Snow Mountain, but here they are crammed together like ants.
This scene truly induces a physical sense of unease, and even He Youyi cannot help but frown.
He turns to look at the young woman behind him, slightly discontented, "Are all the literati from Wenxin Heaven like you?"
