What an ordinary black robe it was.
The cloth was ordinary, the stitching ordinary.
Yet it unfurled amid dream awakening, drifting through the gaps between light and dust.
And so it was anything but ordinary.
It rose with the wind like a pure, spotless flower. Then it fell in the wind, presenting that half-veiled, graceful figure—and, at the very end of the flower stem, that vivid yet shadow-cold face.
Its hem fluttered like a flower budding into bloom.
Once the water had fallen and the rocks were revealed, there was a beauty of fierce contradiction.
Here in the hall today, she was beautiful beyond compare.
"Little Sister Yuzhen!" Huang Sheli happily stepped forward to greet her.
Huang's principle toward ugly people was to forget them as soon as she had seen them. Toward beautiful people, it was strangers the first time, familiar friends the second.
For a beauty on Yuzhen's level, one glance lasted ten thousand years; at their first meeting, they were already old friends.
Last time, she had still called her Abbess. This time, she even skipped Junior Sister and went straight to Little Sister. Or perhaps she ought to call her Big Sister? She had never asked her age, but such things were unimportant.
With practiced ease, she took the nun's hand and led her toward the front row. "I knew you'd come. Your big sister has been waiting for you! Look, I even saved you a seat."
The nun followed her, courteous yet always carrying the shadow-cold solitude of the Buddhist gate. "Thank you for the trouble, Benefactor Huang."
Led all the way before the Second Seat, the nun stopped and lifted her eyes. Just like that, she looked—openly and aboveboard—at the founder of Chao Wendao Heavenly Palace. She looked for quite a while, until even