"As expected!"
A soft murmur disrupted Liang Hui's thoughts.
At some unknown time, at the threshold of the palace, stood a graceful figure.
Clad in white attire like snow, veiled, with a thin mist in her lovely eyes, her gaze was heart-stirring.
The youth sat cross-legged on a meditation cushion, watching the white-clothed woman.
At this moment, it was just like that moment.
First arriving in this world, in an ancient temple, the youth in dire straits sat atop a broken Buddha head, looking for his sole lifeline.
"This place ought to be, the forbidden ground of our sect,"
"Goddess, without prior announcement, you've come to this place on your own, may I know the purpose?"
Liang Hui slowly rose to his feet.
At that instant, the entire palace seemed to be filled and occupied by his tall stature.
He stretched out his hand to smooth the wrinkles in his garment, and inquired in a flat tone.