Yang Feng arrived at Murong Ziyuan's cave dwelling. Apart from a Fourth Grade Gathering Spirit Array, the interior was extremely simple, with only a table, a chair, and a meditation mat.
Not to mention that it couldn't compare to the luxurious wooden house formations of the Liu Family, even the underground coffin nest of the Yin Family had more of a living atmosphere than this.
Besides having considerable Spiritual Power, there was almost nothing special about this place.
Murong Ziyuan, however, did not find anything amiss. She sat on the chair and said blandly:
"Sit."
Yang Feng glanced around and then sat cross-legged on the meditation mat.
In this way, looking at Murong Ziyuan required him to raise his head and gaze at that breathtakingly beautiful face.
Yang Feng had never observed Murong Ziyuan so closely before. In his impression, Murong Ziyuan had always been aloof, unattainable, as cold as a glacier, someone whose mere presence made his heart tremble.
