The woman's magnificent clothes were torn to shreds, revealing large patches of skin. Though stained with blood and stardust, her skin still shone with the luster of fine white jade.
Her flowing hair was splayed in a messy tangle across the Star Sand. A few strands were matted by blood to her cheeks, which were as pale as snow yet so breathtakingly exquisite it was suffocating.
Even in such a wretched state—gravely injured, unconscious, and on the brink of death—her beauty was still staggering. It was as if she were the most perfect creation, meticulously carved by this world's Celestial Dao, imbued with the very essence of all its spiritual grace.
It was a beauty that transcended gender, possessing a grace and sanctity that towered above the mortal world—an innate, noble dignity.
Xu Yunfan watched her for a long moment before slowly tearing his gaze away to look at her tightly clenched fist.
In her hand, she tightly clutched something.
