"This is quite mystical!"
Seeing the pattern emerge on Feng Zhengyuan's arm, Ning Zhendao couldn't help but click his tongue in admiration. As the city lord for many years, he was supposed to be no stranger to grand sights and shouldn't have been so amazed. But the pattern was truly mystical; not only did it capture a hint of the Immortal Mountain's charm, but one could even sense birds soaring within it. The entire mountain seemed alive!
"If you are from the Immortal Mountain, then a venerable master must have bestowed this sigil upon you."
After the display, Feng Zhengyuan pulled down his sleeve and looked directly at Su Xuan, his eyes still filled with hostility. This kind of sigil was etched into the soul, manifesting outwardly on the flesh. It was extremely difficult to counterfeit.
"Young Master Su, do you have one?" Ning Zhendao also turned to ask Su Xuan.
The atmosphere in the room grew quiet. Only the gurgling of the teapot heating in the corner could be heard.
