Zhao Tianxing grabbed the rope with both hands, planted his feet on the cliff face, and scrambled up the cliff.
Atop the cliff was a Black Pine Forest.
The scent of rotting leaves and damp earth mingled in the morning mist.
The two of them slowed their pace, changed their clothes in a crevice between large stones, and put on their Evil Ghost Masks.
Then they crouched low, moving like cheetahs toward the northern part of the Black Pine Forest.
The mountain wind whipped pine needles across their cheeks, the tips making their skin prickle.
Chu Fan tapped his toes on a protruding bluestone on the cliff face, and his figure landed at the edge of the Black Pine Forest, as Light as a Feather.
He turned his head to look at Zhao Tianxing behind him.
Zhao Tianxing had a longbow on his back, one hand gripping a pine branch to steady himself. His dark martial attire was torn in several places by sharp rocks.
The two peered down through the interlaced pine needles.
