The Death of a Famous Sword (2)

About This Novel

Ahead is the road leading to home, and the midday sun shines dazzlingly on the gray road. The door of the house was in front of her, and Ai Xiaomei rushed in. Whether it was the front yard or the backyard, everything was silent. There were only mules chewing grass slowly, and naturally blooming flowers swaying in the air. Ai Xiaomei looked around habitually, but she saw nothing. All the furnishings were placed as they were when she left. Ai Xiaomei opened the closet to change clothes, and subconsciously glanced at the bottom of the closet: that was where she put the burned stumps she picked up. It's not there.

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