"Xuanyuan? Ye Wushuang? Both are fine names!"
The figure muttered to himself as he walked to stand opposite Ye Wushuang. He had a tall, slender build and wore a profound-black robe with an open collar, revealing the curved lines of his muscles and giving him a statuesque, athletic appearance.
His silver hair cascaded over his shoulders like a weeping willow, resembling a waterfall from the Milky Way. A few strands would occasionally be stirred by an unseen wind.
Behind him, the phantom of an entire world took shape.
His eyes were fixed on Ye Wushuang, and they held nothing but indifference. Only indifference.
No, that wasn't right. There was also a trace of fear.
This sliver of fear seemed to be innate, hidden so deep beneath his apathy that perhaps even he himself had not noticed it.
"You are Heaven!"
Ye Wushuang stared at the man before him. He emanated no aura whatsoever, yet he felt more solid and imposing than a great mountain, exuding a heavy, oppressive presence.
