Soft light.
Golden dowels.
Fang Hong raised his left hand, facing the sunlight outside the window. He squinted his eyes and gently pushed with his right hand, a light clicking sound followed. Then he turned his hand over, and a sliver of cold light flickered from the cold iron shell. He lowered his hand, examined it carefully for a moment, and compared it with the gauntlet on his right hand before nodding in satisfaction.
He then turned to take down the magic guided reactor from the shelf, rustling as he donned it. After securing the clasps and checking everything from both sides, there was a forceful knocking at the door. Xiangzi asked from outside, "Are you ready?"
"Just about."
Fang Hong answered.