"There is no need," Sikong Ren said dismissively.
Zhang Wang rolled his eyes, "Yeah, sure. But who said I'm coming along because of you? Anyways, two sets of eyes will be better than one."
"..." And at that, Sikong Ren had nothing to say.
After bidding farewell to Chu Changying, they set off to Mount Wuhong on their flying swords. Or at least, what was left of it.
What had once been a tall and proud mountain was reduced to a large, desolate crator. The ground was burned black, thick layers of soot coated stone. The lush green vegetation had all been wiped out clean. The quaint little Crow's Eye was among the ruins as well, the lovely little tea house now nothing mor than ashe.
There was no bird song to greet their arrival, nor crickets nor frogs. The wind howled ominously and Sikong Ren headed straight to point where they found him.
