The atmosphere inexplicably sank, the surrounding air fell silent for a long time, occasionally large muscles and veins twitched, then quieted down again, creating a rather peculiar ambiance.
Yun Rong's arms, which were holding Baili An, slowly slid down his shoulders powerlessly.
She slowly raised her head, the tear stains on her cheeks gradually dried by the wind, her gaze restored to a calm and unfazed stillness like an ancient well.
There was no longer any anger from arguing with Arao, nor the sudden smile amidst tears when favored, her demeanor was calm and composed.
Mei Yue's calm expression was unmistakably that of a Sword Immortal.
However, with her head lowered, her gaze was numb and hollow, bearing an air of utter hopelessness. Her tone was quiet, speaking each word deliberately, more serious than ever: "I am not your mother."
The refusal inherent in her words left no room for rebuttal.
