C214 Shocking Back

A beam of white light, as stark as the lingering snow on the summit of a solitary peak, was cold, piercing, and aimed directly at Qing Meng. The bamboo forest in its path was cleanly bisected, the severed ends as smooth as mirrors. The sound of bamboo crashing to the ground surged like a relentless tide, filling the air with its clamor.

Qing Meng's delicate face tensed