The Young Maiden shook her head slightly. Her raven-black hair danced gracefully like ink-colored satin in the night breeze, every strand flawlessly smooth and glowing with a mysterious, soft luster. Spiritual energy faintly circulated between her tresses, resembling sparkling starlight in the night sky.
Her face was like meticulously carved jade, and her skin was as white as snow, emitting a faint halo under the moonlight as if veiled in a sacred gauze. Her clear eyes were like brilliant stars embedded in the deep night sky—crystal clear and sincere. In her pupils, nebulae seemed to slowly swirl, at times flashing with the light of wisdom, at times revealing a gentle benevolence.
That benevolence was like a gentle spring breeze carrying a mysterious blessing; every nuance seeped into the heart, making it impossible to refuse. Parting her vermilion lips, her voice rang like jade chimes in a celestial palace, crisp and melodious: "That is not the case. My clan and the Feather God Sect have been bound by generations of friendship.
Chapter 71