The Nether never had any light.
Absolute dark in an absolute void — back when some people’s cultivation was still low, without the aid of certain blood-affinity effects, they couldn’t even make out the Nether clearly.
So there was no morning or night here; it was always the same.
The only thing that could give a rough sense of time was that at the辰 hour the spirit qi felt a touch fresher.
The pitch-black expanse of the Nether gave a false impression of faint glimmers of spirit light, drifting through the void.
It was beautiful, yet chilling.
Live in a place like this for long and you hardened into it, like when Qin Yi first met Meng Qingying — pale-faced, ghostly.
At that time she was not at all cute; she was cruel.
Cultivators raised in such an environment generally had problems in their psyche… Looking back at her younger self, Meng Qingying saw how much she had changed.
Partly it was the merging with memories from a past life, which tempered the imperial grandeur of the Phoenix; partly… it was love for Qin Yi warming her.