A hundred years flow like water, and before one knows it, another year has passed.
Jiang Yuan and the Bull King had been traveling in the Southern Zhanbu Continent for some time.
Along the way, they encountered several Daoists, offering assistance to one or two, yet most were foolishly blind, unable to recognize a true immortal.
After a year, the immortal arrived at the borders of the Western Niu He Continent, only to suddenly see a Quicksand River ahead, blocking their path.
Jiang Yuan looked ahead; the Quicksand River was indeed perilous, stretching eight hundred miles across, with depths reaching tens of thousands of miles.
The water flowed as if it were flipping over, and the waves rolled like mountains rising from the ground.
The immortal said, "This river is murky and difficult for ordinary mortals to cross. I see a stone tablet ahead; it is the Quicksand River. Bull, how can we return home by this route?"
The Bull King replied, "My lord, if we are to return home, how can we speak of which road to take? This road is closer, so we shall take this one."
Jiang Yuan said, "Enough, enough, enough. Let us ride the clouds."
As he spoke, he was about to ride the clouds back to the Ling Tai Fang Cun Mountain.