Li Hua opened her eyes as the first hint of dawn painted the sky with pale gold. The night's cultivation had replenished her spiritual reserves, leaving her meridians humming with refined energy. Beside her, Mo Xing was already emerging from his meditative state, his golden eyes catching the early light as they opened.
She found herself studying him with newfound awareness—noticing details that had always been present but never before registered with such clarity. The elegant veins that traced paths beneath the skin of his large hands captured her attention as he moved with deliberate grace. Those hands fascinated her; powerful enough to wield weapons with devastating precision, yet impossibly gentle when they held hers. The contradiction delighted her—how his palms were somehow both soft and marked with cultivator's callouses, telling the story of his dedication to strength training.
