Blood.
Thick, warm blood soaked through the magnificent phoenix robe, trickled down the hem, and congealed into a pool of dark-red despair on the cold stone floor.
Shen Qingshang’s vision was already beginning to blur. The lanterns at the four corners of the cold palace flickered in the impenetrable darkness like pairs of ghostly eyes.
So cold.
The bone-deep chill seemed to seep out from between her very bones.
