String Pavilion, rear mountain, upon the stone platform among the sea of clouds.
Ye Futian was sitting cross-legged, playing a musical composition. As the sound of music rose, every note that jumped out was akin to the chanting of the phoenix. There was a brilliant divine light accompanying each lively note. If someone was here, they were bound to have the false sense that it was the phoenix singing.
The sound of the guqin sounded like a phoenix chanting. Those notes surrounded Ye Futian's body, and in the void, there were illusions of the phoenix, whirling between heaven and earth.
In the sea of clouds, an extremely radiant divine light illuminated, like a picture of a phoenix dancing in nine heavens, beautiful and perfect, a wonder in itself.
