Qin Ming had always been invoking "He Guang Tong Chen," reducing his vital energy to that of an average person, yet such a gaze was still perceived by the other, showing how powerful his senses were.
The night grew dense, and the area around Fire Spring was especially bright.
A breeze blew, lifting the glowing hair of Cui Chonghe, whose bearing was as graceful as jade, surrounded by a faint luminescence resembling rain, standing as if rooted in the path of immortality, severing all worldly qi.
Qin Ming stood on the dim slope, nodding slightly in that direction.
Beside Fire Spring, under the black and white trees, Cui Chonghe's Feather Robe fluttered with tendrils of white mist, his face flawless like finely carved jade, gentle and delicate; his eyes deep, nodding back towards the slope.
Qin Ming realized that he did not recognize himself.
