The next morning, the sky was still bright.
Chen Ping stood by the lake, watching the dark blue lake water rise and fall slightly in the morning breeze.
The aurora above his head had faded from the deep blue and purple of the night, and turned back to that pale color, like an old silk that had been washed countless times, fluttering silently in the sky.
Jiang Xuelan stood beside him, today she changed her outfit, no longer a plain white long skirt, but a close-fitting ice blue water back, outlining her thin and slender figure in a slender way.
Her long hair was tied up high and fixed with a white jade hairpin, revealing her white neck and well-defined collarbone.
She was holding a fist-sized bead in her hand, the bead emitted a faint blue light, the light was not dazzling, but it had a very penetrating texture, as if it could shine into the deepest seabed.
“This is a water bead.”
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