"Yan Heng, my entire Shen family died because of you."
She stood with a gun in hand, her armor stained with blood, her brows stern, but she couldn't conceal the deathly silence in her eyes.
He reined up his horse in front of the formation, pointed his spear at an angle, and pleaded with paranoia in his cold voice:
"Shen Qingci, follow me back to Beidi, and I will protect you. This is the only way for you and me to survive."
The wind blew the battle flag, hunting and crying.
The eyes of old enemies collided in the beacon smoke. It was a blood feud, a fate that corroded bones, and a heartbeat that couldn't be hidden.
Love grows wildly in the light of swords, and it is difficult to move forward in front of the divide between home and country.
Is this deep love that goes against the will of heaven salvation or doom?
