Ye Futian's group stood beneath the starry sky. Above them was the face of Ziwei the Great. His gigantic face was one with the starry sky. As they gazed up at the face, they discovered that they were minimal. They were as insignificant as grains of sand in the ocean.
The solemn aura persisted. The part of the starry sky that Ye Futian was in was tranquil. Very few people were talking. They were all silently looking up above at the starry sky.
Even if they could not comprehend the mystery of the silhouette of Ziwei the Great, by just standing there, they could still perceive different things. It was a comprehension that came with their state of mind.