As the cultivators trickle out of the Demon Subduing Cave, a light drizzle begins to pitter patter on their heads.

They haven't left the Burial Mounds yet when it grows into a steady downpour but among them Lan Sizhui, A-Yuan, takes a moment to turn back towards the peak.
As a light wind blows, the yellow grass caresses his shins and at long last the rain washes the smell of blood away.