In the light, Bei Mingyuan’s phantom began to solidify, and his originally illusory form gradually became clear.
Gray hair turned black, wrinkles disappeared, and a hunched body became upright.
A middle-aged man slowly emerged in the light, his face resolute, his brows carrying the unique aloofness and nobility of the Ice God lineage.
This was the first time Chen Ping had seen Bei Mingyuan so clearly.
“Senior, you have finally regained your physical body?” Chen Ping walked up to him, clasped his hands in a salute.
Bei Mingyuan raised his head, looked at Chen Ping, and remained silent for a long time.
Then, he shook his head. “I haven’t recovered yet. Even on this altar, with the Heart of the Cold Abyss, how could I possibly recover my physical body so quickly?”
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