It was a vast, empty hall, with the floor paved with icy jade stone, exuding a misty cold air that shimmered in the violet light of the Luminous Pearl, lowering the temperature of the entire hall significantly.
Nangong Mo sat cross-legged on the ground, his hands naturally placed on his lap, eyes shut, concentrating on regulating his breath and energy.
His inky black hair was not tied up but left unbound, adding an air of wicked charm and allure.
His complexion was even paler than usual, as if shrouded in moonlight, while a purple Netherworld Flower mark on his forehead flickered with an inexplicable mysteriousness and ghostliness.
Though the cold pervaded the hall, there was a fine sheen of sweat on his face, as if he was feeling hot.
On his exposed hands and arms were criss-crossing purple veins like vines, resembling some ancient script and curses, bizarre and sinister.
