Among them, an old man well past sixty, with salt-and-pepper hair and a balding crown, stood out conspicuously amidst a group of sturdy Barbarians. His face was covered in wrinkles, deep and shallow as if carved by a knife. The first thing Zheng Xiu noticed was the old man's foot-long beard, woven into several small braids with weathered bone ornaments strung between them.
CLINK, CLANK. The bone ornaments on his beard jingled as the old man rose. He walked toward the group at an unhurried pace, his tightly furrowed brow finally relaxing. From a distance, he waved to Yue Linglong. "Ah, Princess, you're finally out!"
Only when the old man drew closer did Zheng Xiu see that the bone ornaments strung through his beard were mostly shaped like wolf heads and moons. Zheng Xiu recalled Yue Linglong introducing herself as a member of the Moon Race, and understanding dawned on him.
'The wolf heads and crescent moons must be their clan's Totem.'
