The ancient star of Yanchang was shrouded in a gloomy mist that seemed to seep into everyone's hearts.

With the great battle approaching, no one could remain completely calm. Waves of anxiety stirred within them, each lost in their own thoughts.

At the foot of a desolate mountain, Zhangsun Fengye and Daochen Buddha's child sat on wooden chairs, sipping tea and conversing.

"Old Chen, I wonder if he can hold his ground."