Mi Mountain was covered in rocks and stones.
Some of the rocks, battered by wind and rain, had not been worn smooth. Instead, their edges had only grown sharper.
This alone was enough to show that the mountain was anything but ordinary.
Bai Mo found a withered branch of indeterminate age. He peeled back the rotting bark and gave it a wipe.
Clean and tidy, it made for a fine walking stick.
Grasping the stick, Bai Mo spent half the day climbing the mountain, exploring many nooks and crannies and checking any place that could hold water.
By sunset, he had only managed to survey a corner of Mi Mountain. The mountain wind was surprisingly cold, forcing Bai Mo to head back down.
'Hm, the night wind is unusually frigid. I'll have to keep that in mind.'
It was a good thing he'd made this trip. If he had discovered this later, he would have wasted who knows how much effort.
