There was a frozen silence in the dry white python wasteland, with only countless fine and clear snowflakes dancing lingeringly, making the sound of nibbling. The pure white envelops a whole piece of dreamlike and transparent warmth, as if trapped in a gentle nightmare.
There are so many red plum blossoms blooming wantonly and fieryly, and the lingering red tentacles are cold, like large groups of burning miserable flames, falling lonely but gorgeous red ashes under the soft snow. The heart-wrenching blood-red drops fell into her eyes, as thick as ink, dispersing and evaporating into a hazy and penetrating blood mist floating like smoke.
She stood quietly, holding an old paint-colored bone umbrella in her hand, with a half-smile on her gloomy face. After a long time, she spoke silently, and a cold smile escaped from her clear voice: "Yuze, it has been a long journey, but you have betrayed me after all. When we meet again one day, it will be when we meet in arms. Then I will kill you with my own hands."