Stars were sparkling in the sky.
The starlight in the Southern Wasteland was soft and gentle as a stream of water, but here in the Midland, starlight seemed dense and heavy, just like liquid silver. Ji Hao stood in the snowfield and felt streams of, especially heavy and pure star-power ceaselessly gush into his body, which were soon fully absorbed by his Golden Dan.
Yu Mu was humming an unknown folk song. He had excitedly set up a bonfire, put his huge iron pot on top of the fire, and boiled a potful of soup. Clouds of steam were rising out of the pot, and the soup boiling in the pot was also colorful, with thousands of foot-long, snow-white centipede meat, quickly rolling within the soup.
Highly poisonous plants were thrown into the soup by Yu Mu one after another. Slowly, a dense, unspeakable aroma that was mixed with a faint trace of the smell of blood and a nice sweet scent came out from the pot and spread out.