Luo, you can't escape..."
On the silent peak, the man whispered coldly, watching the young man fall to the bottom of the peak, his flying clothes floating in the cold wind, like flying flowers falling into mud at the end of spring and winter solstice, withered and cold.
"Luo? I hate you... So, how about you go die? "With a soft and hoarse voice, the woman stepped on the blood on the ground and waved her sword coldly.
The snowflakes and blood in the sky are intertwined and blended.
"Luo... Jianghu would be lonely without you. "The Qingzi woman chuckled and looked at the dead Can Hong in confusion.
If I had never met you... Could we be separated from each other?
If we can forget each other, if we can not see each other...