Pei Ye abruptly reined in his horse to a halt, his eyes intently looking straight ahead.
In the vast and silent wilderness, the waning moon sprinkled a layer of pale frost.
The man in white approached with unhurried steps, his face as silent as the wilderness itself, his stride as solid as the mountains behind him.
Pei Ye had seen these clothes before, the black silk that tied those eyes, the long cloth wrapped and carried on the back, and that expressionless face.
——Yi Nandai.
Although the man's eyes were obscured by cloth, whenever his gaze fell upon something, it always carried an icy penetration.
Under the mountain and moonlight, he tranquilly watched the youth before him, unwrapping the cloth from behind. With a light flick of his hand, the white cloth slid off expansively, revealing the shape of a sharp and sturdy weapon.
Measuring about seven feet in length, the spear shaft was deep black, its tip and blade forming a cold white line of moonlight.
