Within the mirror labyrinth, the Heavenly Master quietly stood still. His aged face and weathered skin made him appear frail and decrepit, his arms hanging loosely at his sides. Perhaps, for the first time, Zhang Qingwu truly realized the deep marks the passing years had carved upon him.
Unquantifiable, indescribable, yet hidden beneath his exterior.
"Ah…"
Whether it was the biting chill of the mirror space or the faint trace of Immortal Qi lingering in the old Heavenly Master's breath, a subtle Qi vortex emerged as he exhaled. He gazed at the copper mirror before him, within which the terrified soul of a young woman could be seen. She stared at the old Heavenly Master, her eyes brimming with pleading and hope.
The desperate will to survive...
