Some people were destined to draw every eye.
Of everyone present, only Li Yulou could truly be said to have met Fang Qianyuan before. Yet almost instantly, the others also connected what they knew of him with the black-robed man before them, who was petting a cat and eating melon with a seemingly frivolous air.
For when they looked at him, they discovered to their astonishment that, for a moment, they could not make out his face. From several yards away, a strange power seemed to veil his features. In the blink of an eye, that sensation vanished, leaving only an ominous aura rising like steam and wreathing his body, bringing an invisible pressure as profound as an abyss.
The black spirit satin and dark gold cloud patterns created an air of solemn majesty, seemingly magnifying that invisible pressure still further and weighing heavily upon the hearts of those meeting him for the first time.
Luo Qing's delicate brows knitted slightly as she looked at Fang Qianyuan with a measure of doubt and surprise.
Born a noble daughter of a great house, she knew of certain secret arts unique to major sects or aristocratic clans. These deliberately built upon details of architecture, clothing, and ceremony to create an atmosphere of superiority and subdue people's hearts.
Even ordinary mortals used such arts.
Palaces and halls towering like mountains in imposing grandeur, for instance, along with lavish clothing and elaborate etiquette...
This was the largest and most magnificently decorated of the three treasure ships. Naturally, its interior arrangements surpassed those of the other two.
Fang Qianyuan himself was a senior figure in a major sect, a titan in his own right. His attire and trappings could also be considered fitting.
Yet his casual, languid manner utterly destroyed the sense of majesty built