On that spring night, the pale moon wore a veil of gauze, graceful and delicate. A breeze brushed past cheeks and lifted long hair. The moonlight was calm and gentle as water.
A slender figure slowly emerged from the darkness. His long black hair fell loose down his back, reflecting an obsidian sheen beneath the lantern light, as though a black halo surrounded him. As he walked, those ink-dark locks rippled like flowing water, shimmering beautifully.
The newcomer did not conceal his footsteps. Dean Flender stopped grading assignments and abruptly raised his head.
Hazy moonlight fell through the window onto Dean Flender's face. Time hurried on, the years flashing past like a shuttle on a loom. Once in the prime of his life, Dean Flender was now approaching his sixtieth birthday. Although his build remained as robust as ever, the white hair at his temples betrayed his advancing age.
His face was quite distinctive. His chin jutted forward slightly, his cheekbones were broad, and his face was flat, with a somewhat hooked nose. If one had to compare it to something, the sole of a shoe would be the only fitting choice. His eyes looked rather sly. A pair of black-framed crystal glasses rested on his face, their frames stiff and square.
Dean Flender removed his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes. Taking out a cloth, he wiped the lenses for a moment before settling them back onto his nose.
With the help of his reading glasses, Dean Flender's vision cleared, and he gradually recognized his visitor.
Only then did Dean Flender notice that Yang Ming wore white beneath a black hooded cloak trimmed with reddish-gold cloud patterns. The fabric and embroidery lent him an air of mystery.
"Yang Ming, what suddenly brought you to Shrek Academy to see me