Bei Mingyuan stood up, took off his suit jacket, and rolled up his shirt sleeves. He looked like he was about to perform surgery.
Just when Xin Huohuo thought there was going to be bloodshed, she saw him press his right index and middle fingers together like a sword and place them on the inside of his left arm. There, on his once-smooth skin, a dragon-shaped tattoo slowly emerged. It was golden. But upon closer inspection, the dragon's scales were actually pieces of strange, unreadable script.
As he clenched his left hand into a fist, his right fingers swept across the line of golden script. His lips moved slightly, and the dragon seemed to come to life, dancing and coiling around his arm. It was exceptionally beautiful, looking as if it was about to burst forth from his skin.
