Wu Xiao froze in place.
After a while, his hands moved, sweeping over his long ponytail: "What do you mean by that?"
Lu Ran still gazed into his eyes: "I have seen someone like you before."
"Like me?"
"Someone whose heart is dead."
"Heh." Wu Xiao chuckled softly, letting one hand fall to gently stroke the mane of his horse, "Did he succeed?"
The horse gently stepped, growing increasingly uneasy at heart.
It had been three years.
Her gentleness, her pleas, her fervent and passionate love, had never managed to awaken his dead heart.
For three years, she wandered with him through the Mountain Realm.
Passing by those full of wariness, or desperately seeking protection.
Avoiding those with dubious intentions and smiling faces, remaining distant and cold.
They had even tread over the carcasses of wolves and tigers.
But this time, in the brilliantly blossoming Qianhua Ridge, her heart was filled with anxiety.
She had been to all kinds of places and seen all sorts of people.
