Kong Jinghong trembled all over, looking up.
That throne, that space dagger, that indifferent and detached expression, in the gestures and actions of sweeping sleeves...
All exuded a sense of kinship from the bloodline.
The vast way of space, with a flick of the sleeve, there seemed to be the heaven and earth trembling behind, many worlds like grains of sand among stars, slowly stirred.
Anyone who grew up listening to the myth of this figure would feel that this kinship cannot be severed.
He instantly felt an impulse to worship reverently!
"Greetings, Ancestor!"
Kong Jinghong bent down, knelt on the ground, deeply convinced.
Before, he felt surrounded by an indescribable suffocation, only able to keep running, keep running.
He didn't know during which era.
He didn't know the rise and fall of civilization.
He didn't know the life and death of his parents and kin...
But now, seeing the silhouette of this Stabilizing Needle sitting on the throne.
