The heavy rain hit the green tiles of the General's Mansion with a deafening sound, as if the heaven and earth were roaring.
A pale thunder light tore through the night, instantly illuminating the pale but still childlike face in the boudoir.
Murong Zhuo opened his eyes suddenly, his chest heaved violently, and cold sweat slid down his forehead, soaking his shirt.
She raised her hand tremblingly and touched her face - her brow bones, bridge of nose, lips... Were intact.
She inserted her finger into her lips again and touched the base of her tongue, which was intact.
