Li Xu popped the last piece of bread into his mouth, brushed the crumbs from his hands, and looked up at the mountain path ahead.
Two peaks to cross, a five-kilometer journey.
On flat ground, a distance like that would be nothing.
But deep in the Qinling Mountains, the mountain path was rugged and the forest was dense. Every step could hide unforeseen trouble.
He tightened the cap on his water bottle, stuffed it back into his backpack, took a deep breath, and strode forward.
After crossing the first peak, Li Xu's pant legs were already soaked with dew from the tall grass, and the soles of his shoes were caked with mud.
He stopped to wipe away his sweat when he suddenly noticed the faint outline of several gray-tiled roofs on the slope ahead.
'A village?'
Li Xu was taken aback.
'It's not on the map.'
'Could it be reclusive Daoists?'
He'd seen news reports about it—some Daoists, and people who couldn't make it in the big cities, liked to live as recluses in the mountains.
