Yun Qing rose first. A moment later, he stood before the private room's enormous glass window, his hands behind his back and his robes fluttering faintly.
Yun Baojian accepted the ring and nodded farewell to his father, then turned to follow.
Twelve figures became streaks of light, shooting out through the window toward the Purple-Gold Cloudship three thousand feet overhead.
Yun Lan stood beside the window, watching the streaks swiftly recede, especially the sword-shaped one among them. He murmured, "These are troubled times, with winds and clouds converging... Children, you must come home safely."
The Star-Watching Terrace on the Purple-Gold Cloudship's top deck.
Yun Qing landed first. The instant he crossed the threshold, he felt the air freeze.
That was no metaphor. It had truly frozen.
Every speck of dust hung motionless in the air. Light lay fixed in place like frozen silk, and even the passage of time had become indistinct.
Yun Huang reclined in his seat.
His eyes were closed, and his slender, jade-like fingers tapped the armrest intermittently, as though he were waiting impatiently for something.
The Twelve Young Masters entered one after another and took their places behind Yun Qing. Feeling the strange, oppressive atmosphere, each held his breath and focused, not daring to move rashly.
"Greetings, Your Majesty." Yun Qing led the others in a collective salute.
Yun Huang's fingers stopped tapping the armrest. Only then did he slowly open his eyes.
Suppressed flames seemed to burn within those golden eyes. His gaze swept over the twelve of them, as though checking for something. Finally, to no one's surprise, it settled firmly on Yun Qing, who stood at the front.
That look...
Yun Qing inwardly cried out in alarm. He knew that look all too well! Why did it look so much like a parent