Zhou Zixing's gaze drifted uncontrollably once more toward Chen Mo, who sat quietly off to the side, the doubts in his heart refusing to disperse.
Everything about this whole affair was bizarre. More than six hours had vanished out of thin air, and everyone had been completely unaware of it. Even the two Xiantian among them had sensed nothing at all.
Chen Mo's cultivation was unfathomable, and his perception far surpassed anyone present. A large-scale temporal disorder like this could never have escaped his notice.
Forget merely sensing that something was wrong—with Chen Mo's abilities, perhaps he had already detected the reason those six-plus hours had disappeared before anyone else even reacted.
But now, looking at Chen Mo, he was merely sitting there quietly with his eyes closed, still holding Ouyang Ruo Xi's hand. The aura around him was calm and indifferent, as if all storms and strange changes in the world had nothing to do with him, without the slightest ripple showing.
The more Zhou Zixing looked, the less he could figure him out. The young man before him and the young man he had seen back at the Nursery were clearly the same person, yet the contrast between then and now was so great that he could not tell which one was the real Chen Mo.
The memories from the Nursery were branded into his mind, and even now, thinking back on them still made chills run through his entire body.
When he first saw Chen Mo, the other party had only appeared for an instant, yet an invisible pressure had pinned the entire area in place. As a Xiantian Martial Artist, the Xiantian power he had always been so proud of was like dust and ants before Chen Mo.
Back then, Chen Mo had casually reached out