"Are you afraid of death?" He propped up his chin and looked at the thin figure lying at the foot of the stairs.
The little man straightened up and frowned slightly, with an expression as if he had asked a stupid question. His cold voice spoke word by word in the empty hall: "If you are not afraid of living, why should you be afraid of death?"
The sound of fighting outside the palace gradually faded, and he was curious about who dared to break into the valley and seek death.
"It's you?" He looked at the person walking in from the door in disbelief. His hair was messy and his usually white clothes were stained with blood. "Aren't you afraid of death?"
A black shadow flashed out from behind, and his guards were already facing the visitor.
And she snorted coldly, raised her sword and stabbed him.
There was a strong wind on the cliff, but she stood steadily. Except for her long hair, her whole body was almost unaffected by external forces. Her hair was flying and her clothes were swaying lightly, as if she was about to fly out. However, she still stood firm and looked at the north.
Just paying attention, you can see her pale lips trembling slightly.
"Are you afraid of death too?" He sat on the sedan chair and looked at her not far away, as if he had met her for the first time.
She looked back and met his gaze. "Afraid. Afraid that we will be separated from him forever, afraid that we will never see him again. Afraid that we will have to linger in front of Naihe Bridge for decades before we can see him again. Afraid that after drinking Meng Po Tang, we will never see him again."