Ying Kongshi was still sitting in his phantom sky, looking at the icy blue on the distant sky, flapping his wings as a snowbird flew past.
He had been sitting quietly for a long, long, long time.
No one called him.
There were no maids, no guards, no Ice Tribe children playing outside the window, no brother and mother, no one.
His hand unconsciously went up to his chest, where there was always a strange, slight tingling sensation.
He suddenly felt panicked, stood up in a hurry, and his white figure flashed away from Phantom Sky!
