The air, filled with the stench of blood, gradually quieted down, and the sky slowly became even more dim.
The Nirvana Ancestor Star, where there was light, resembled a world engulfed in a sandstorm; whereas a Nirvana Ancestor Star without light seemed more like the belly of a massive beast.
Everything around was eerily silent.
Beneath the ancient parasol tree, there were still withered yellow leaves fluttering down.
The autumn in this world seemed to have deepened.
Zhou Yan stood up and started pacing back and forth silently with his hands clasped behind his back, contemplating the profound meanings in the middle volume of the Nirvana Scripture, momentarily perplexed.
He was not confused nor incapable of understanding.
For his resolve was invincible and unshakeable, and his talent for comprehension had reached its limits—how could such a man be perplexed or ignorant?
