The dawn light appeared faintly, with the first ray of light resembling a fine golden veil, gently spilling over this land of Jianghu conflicts. In the mountains and forests, the morning mist floated slowly like a thin silk, circling the branches of the trees, as if it were an illusion in a dream. The cheerful chirping of birds rose and fell, the crisp songs awakening the slumbering earth, injecting new vitality and energy into this Jianghu that had endured much hardship.
Shi Feiyang sheathed his saber and stood quietly with his hands behind his back, his tall figure appearing especially grand in the morning light. His facial features were distinct, the firm lines faintly visible in the twilight, his sword-like eyebrows slanting sharply into his temples, adding to his gaze a touch of sharpness and determination. His deep eyes were like cold stars shimmering in the night sky, exuding an air of unyielding authority from the darkness.
