Though her appearance was incredibly lifelike, Mo Han could sense absolutely no trace of life emanating from her. He soon noticed that while the woman's skin closely resembled human skin, there were still subtle but significant differences. When Mo Han tentatively touched it, it felt somewhat hard.

Furthermore, the gauze skirt adorning the statue was clearly not genuine fabric to Mo Han's eye. As he lifted the bed curtain, a slight breeze stirred, yet the clothing on this figure remained utterly undisturbed. Observing closely, Mo Han realized the garments on the woman seemed carved from some material—fixed into rigid shapes. Thus, when the slight wind from the curtain movement passed, the carved clothes naturally showed no ripple.

The most crucial point was this: even with protective magic, the woman’s entire body was exposed to the air. Two thousand years had passed; even the most formidable barrier magic could never perfectly preserve a body. The person inside might well be reduced to bone, unless concealed within a specialized container—and no mage would be ignorant of such basic principles. This only solidified the suspicion already forming in Mo Han’s mind.

Yet, within this ** space, there was nothing else besides this statue.

Mo Han diligently searched the room again, finding no other items. Had his guess been wrong? Was there truly nothing else in this room? Mo Han thought this with a wave of disappointment.

At that moment, Mo Han’s gaze inadvertently fell upon the statue in the **. It was the only object left to inspect. Could the secret manuals be hidden on the statue itself? Mo Han wondered doubtfully. Thinking of this,

Mo Han decided he couldn't hesitate any longer. It was just a statue, not a real person. He was only touching it to search for something, not with malicious intent; he was merely touching it a few times, he tried to reassure himself, finding excuses internally.

Slowly, Mo Han’s palm began to trace the statue’s body, starting carefully from its feet.

He probed here and pinched there, searching for any hidden mechanism or switch. Yet, even performing this simple search, Mo Han felt his heart rate accelerate, his mouth going dry.

It was only a statue, so why were his reactions like this? Had his self-control truly deteriorated so badly? Mo Han wondered internally.

Though his self-control hadn't always been strong, heh, it shouldn't be this bad.

To have feelings for a mere statue.

Mo Han could only attribute these sensations to the statue’s breathtaking realism. The feel of the skin under his touch, apart from being slightly hard and icy cold, was indistinguishable from that of a real person.

It was crafted with astonishing fidelity; no wonder Mo Han was reacting this way.

Just then, Mo Han's hands slowly moved upward, reaching the statue's chest.

Upon touching it, Mo Han couldn't help but marvel at the creator. If this artist lived in modern times, they would undoubtedly be a master sculptor of **. The tactile sensation was even more authentic than those found in **. The statue's chest was rendered with such startling realism; when Mo Han’s hands made contact, there was even a sense of softness, which stirred an unexpected excitement within him, prompting an urge to savor the sensation further.

What was he doing? He was only looking for secret manuals, so why was he feeling this way toward a statue? Mo Han admonished himself internally. With that thought, Mo Han hastily shook off the indecent notions and returned to his serious search. At that very moment, Mo Han suddenly sensed something was amiss, though he couldn't immediately place what was wrong.

Because Mo Han realized that the statue beneath him had, at some unknown point, developed a warm temperature. When he had first touched it, it was decidedly cold, but now it felt warm. Furthermore, the slightly hard texture of the statue's skin had completely vanished; it was now identical to that of a living person. No wonder, when touching the statue’s chest, he had thought it incredibly realistic, virtually indistinguishable from reality.

Mo Han also noticed that the gauze skirt on the statue had, by now, softened like genuine sheer fabric, clinging to the statue’s form instead of maintaining its fixed, carved shape. This completely revealed the statue’s figure, showcasing utterly breathtaking, perfect curves.

Earlier, Mo Han had been so focused on finding anomalies on the statue that he hadn't noticed when these changes occurred. Could this statue actually be alive? Considering this impossible answer, a cold sweat broke out on Mo Han’s brow. His current posture was undeniably compromising; in his earnest search for clues, he had leaned in an unnatural way, pressing his entire body against the statue.

If this statue were truly alive, finding himself in such an intimate position would be mortifying. He wouldn't be able to talk his way out of it, even if he tried. With this thought, Mo Han intended to move away from the statue immediately. Just then, the statue’s eyes, previously still, blinked several times, then locked onto Mo Han, who was uncomfortably close, emitting a cold glimmer.

Seeing this, Mo Han felt his heart skip several beats. Through her gaze, Mo Han was now absolutely certain: the woman he had assumed was a statue beside him was undoubtedly real. He simply could not fathom how a statue could suddenly become a living person—it was simply too unbelievable.

“Who are you? Why are you here? What are you doing?” The woman, now undeniably real, looked down at Mo Han, who was practically draped over her, and asked coldly. Simultaneously, a terrifying surge of magical fluctuation erupted from her. The intensity of the magical energy humbled even Mo Han. Mo Han knew with certainty that if his answer was not satisfactory, he would surely face an attack from her devastatingly potent magic.

Mo Han could have leveraged his Swordsaint skill to move preemptively and subdue the woman. Given his prowess, even a Magic God at such close quarters might not escape his attack. However, he was undeniably in the wrong—having trespassed into her palace and then, even if unintentionally, ended up sprawled over her body. If he attacked now, the misunderstanding would only deepen.

Moreover, there was another factor: gazing upon this peerless woman, Mo Han felt an inexplicable inability to strike her. He himself was surprised by this feeling. Yet, these thoughts flashed by in an instant. While processing, Mo Han maintained an unchanging, pleasant smile and spoke: “It’s nothing. I was passing by, saw the door to this room ajar, and decided to step inside to see what was here. Then I saw you. I thought you had fainted and was coming over to see if I could assist.”

To devise such an excuse without betraying emotion in such a short time impressed even Mo Han with his own adaptability. As he spoke, Mo Han naturally shifted his body away from the woman, as if he had merely been standing there all along. Thankfully, his hands had moved away from her chest; otherwise, no eloquence could have salvaged the situation. Mo Han sighed inwardly.

Little did he expect that the woman was not fooled by his explanation. The woman in white slowly sat up, surveyed her surroundings, and then looked at Mo Han, stating coldly, “My Temple of Illusion is not a place anyone can enter. The fact that you reached this spot already proves your strength is beyond ordinary. Where are your accomplices? Have them come out. What is your objective here? Since you have already taken the treasures outside, why did you break into my room?” Hearing the woman's questions, Mo Han felt genuinely bewildered. He smiled faintly and replied, “Accomplices? I have none. It has been just me from start to finish. Perhaps you are mistaken?” Upon hearing Mo Han’s denial, the white-robed woman suddenly became enraged. The magical elements around her began to surge violently. Seeing this, Mo Han immediately tensed up, perplexed as to why she was so convinced he had partners and why she became so angry when he denied it. It truly made no sense. No wonder people say a woman's heart is like a needle at the bottom of the sea.

Just then, the white-robed woman spoke in an icy tone: “You still try to argue? Looking at your strange attire, you must be a mage, yes? Then how did you defeat the guards protecting the palace? And how did you pass the room guarded by the Soul Beasts? Don't tell me they willingly let you in.”