In the noisy city, there were crowds of people. Under the dim light, a wine glass slowly fell from a woman's hand. The 82-year-old Lafite was spilled on the floor. Two lines of cold tears slowly ran down the bridge of her nose. Leng Yue slowly closed her eyes. . .
"Quick, pass the medicine over..."
"Come, Your Majesty..."
"Please close your eyes when it gets dark, the game begins!"
Snow and blood merged together and dyed red, which was Leng Yue's favorite color.
This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.
