He reached out and picked up a piece of broken stone, holding it in his hand.
When his fingers opened again, gray-white powder spilled from his palm.
The stone powder merged with the black soil, and the man disappeared into the darkness. In the place where he had been, not even footprints were left. The wind left no trace, only a single wilted leaf that fell from the branch into the soil, indicating that someone had been there.
In the banquet hall, glasses clinked, and soothing music flowed with the turning lights.
Chu Huang was dressed in a dark green off-shoulder gown, her figure graceful. She was already over 50, yet her face still looked youthful, without a trace of fine lines at the corners of her eyes.
She wore no jewelry, as she was not one who loved dressing up. Her life was dedicated to her scientific career, and she usually wore a white lab coat. This gown was something her assistant had prepared at the last minute.
