"Look, they are coming."
As Mo Ying spoke, his gaze reached into the distance. There, figures moved gracefully side by side, their elegance likening them to a vision of dreamlike beauty. She appeared to be around twenty years old, her presence ethereal and misty among the group, her grace dignified and pure, prompting onlookers to continually cast glances her way...
Feng Yi's eyes narrowed slightly; atop the platform, the sound of swords clanged incessantly, forceful and resonant. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he sheathed his sword, focusing his mind, gathering thoughts and senses, entering a state where everything felt like a blank paper—reborn twice, no one could disturb his consciousness.
"Your thoughts are in turmoil; this is the first time I've sensed such a peculiar emotion from you since your rebirth."
"Is that so?"
"Absolutely." Mo Ying affirmed, "Even facing Kexiao, facing Sky Shadow, facing the bizarre, it wouldn't cause you to be like this."
