In the temple at the root of the holy tree in the city of Doma, fireflies flying in the air are like a pair of eyes that gather and disperse.
Sitting cross legged on a rattan bed, Yeshiliang looked straight at the sky, as if he had seen through the flickering fireflies and the rattan wall that could block all light.
It was a feeling he had never felt before.
It's like turning a comic book and suddenly catching sight of the comic book.
But unlike in the past, this time he was not the person who turned the book.
The eyes that met his eyes were beyond the thin pages of the book.
“……...