Mount Wuyi, its upper half cloaked in mist, was now growing taller at an astonishing rate.
Twelve thousand zhang.
Thirteen thousand zhang.
Thirteen thousand zhang.
Fifteen thousand zhang.
...
Three months' time.
Mount Wuyi had grown by an impressive twenty-two thousand zhang before it finally ceased its ascent.
Its height had more than doubled from its original size.
At the summit of the mountain peak.
Chu Ning's figure appeared there.
After a full hundred years, the Mountain Soul had finally condensed.
But Chu Ning's face bore no smile; instead, his expression turned peculiar.
He had personally witnessed everything that the Mountain Soul had experienced over the past century.
He knew of everything that occurred on Mount Wuyi.
The Mountain Soul was him, yet it was not him.
The moment the Mountain Soul was born, it developed its own consciousness, albeit constrained by the limits of Mount Wuyi.