In the night.

A lonely and cold moon hung high in the sky, shining through the gaps between the branches and leaves of the trees, casting patches of light.

Yuan Ming sat cross-legged on a patch of moonlight, his palms pressed together, one hand pointing towards the sky and the other towards the ground.

A hazy layer of moonlight enveloped his body, different from elsewhere, misty and ethereal, as if shrouded in fog and thin veils, lingering for a long time.