In the pitch-black sky, terrifying fierce gusts of wind surged, capable of extinguishing Pure Yang Consciousness. Qin Ming and the Chairman were unaffected, standing side by side, their clothes fluttering like a pair of Banished Immortals.
Qin Ming turned his head, looking at her glowing white face, then at the slender hand holding his, warm and crystal clear, even more delicate than Warm Jade.
The Chairman's posture was upright and graceful, absolutely independent, her flawless face had a kind of transcendent advanced beauty, ethereal and immaculate, untouched by worldly smoke and fire.
Clearly, she had no worldly desires at this moment; instead, there was a sense of indifference, sanctity, resembling a Heavenly Immortal walking through the silent ages; the flourishing world, the brilliance of all races, could not captivate her eyes.
