A hundred miles away from the black market.

In an unremarkable little mountain hollow, a patch of slender bamboo grew, no taller than a few meters, about the thickness of a thumb. The pale green bamboo had streaks of deep purple and a faint metallic sheen, clearly not ordinary. Within the bamboo grove, various exotic flowers and herbs swayed gently in the breeze, their fragrance wafting continuously.

Amidst the swirling spiritual mist, a thatched cottage appeared and disappeared.

This was the residence of Old Mu.