Linjiang City, Yuelai Teahouse.
At the moment when the crowd was buzzing, the storyteller was stunned and the whole hall cheered. Only the seat by the window was so clean that it seemed as if there was an invisible veil separating us from the mortal world.
A man was sitting alone by the window, with a slim and slender figure.
He was wearing a moon-white robe. The material looked ordinary, without any sparkle, but it was spotless, not even a wrinkle could be found. His long black hair was held up casually with a wooden hairpin of unknown material. A few strands of black hair hung down, and with the breeze blowing in from the window, it gently brushed the silver ribbon covering his eyes.
The ribbon was embroidered with dark patterns of flowing clouds, covering his eyes tightly.
"Tsk, this appearance is really amazing."
Qi Yunshen sat there, with his back straight and his whole body looking cold, looking like an immortal who did not eat the fireworks of the world.
