Dressing Style and Identity Verification

He let out a breath. The dry, frigid air swiftly cooled the warmth, and water vapor condensed into white frost on his eyelashes, like black branches wrapped in white ice in winter. His fingers gripped the wooden ladder of the bookshelf tightly, his knuckles frozen blue as if even his blood vessels had stiffened. His obsidian-pure eyes stared fixedly at his colleague below the ladder, his face full of displeasure.

"I'm busy. I have a lot of materials to review." When he spoke, a cloud of white mist once again obscured his eyes.

"That's the Prophetess, Salomon! Though magic scrambled her brain, her soul accepted magic without any resistance." Master Wong pursed his lips. His voice stirred a faint resonance in the frozen dust within the vast, empty depths of the library. In this freezing place, only a few burning sticks of incense provided a negligible amount of warmth. "Her words and actions represent the will of some magical entity, which is why we call her the 'Prophetess.' I know it's difficult for you to overlook her dreadful spells, but the magic she displayed genuinely works. That alone is enough to warrant our vigilance."

"So that's why The Venerable One let her go—to see what that madwoman wanted to do?"

"Didn't you already figure that out? I merely used that time to get something to eat. That's called making efficient use of time. Who knew she would run straight into a police station?" There was not the slightest hint of apology on Master Wong's round face, as though the police taking away that madwoman was far less important than freshly roasted tangerine peel duck and roast goose. He smiled. "To get her back, I need your worldly influence. Come on, I just forgot to bring you a portion. Do you