Rong Heng's pupils shrank slightly, staring in horror at the person in front of him.
The smile on Gu Lan's face had not yet faded when suddenly everything went black before her eyes, and she uncontrollably fell to the ground.
The smile instantly dissipated like the white mist rising from a teacup on a winter's day, vanishing in an instant.
At that moment, Rong Heng felt as if all the blood in his body had frozen into ice.
In his muddled mind appeared the scene of Xiao Ning's death, her face, once favored in the Six Palaces and unparalleled in beauty, now ashen and cold as a stone wall, hanging high in the center of the palace.
He thought of many people too, but in just an instant, Rong Heng had rushed forward to catch Gu Lan in his arms.
The overly warm body startled him back to his senses.
Rong Heng forced himself to control his suddenly rapid breathing, his blood-red eyes gradually regaining their shine.
Yes, it's warm.
His fingertips trembled uncontrollably.
