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Cold qi leaked from the ice coffin in waves. Qin Sang looked at Qingjun, who stared at the ice coffin.
She saw the peachwood sword that Qingzhu had hugged tightly. She remembered that, back in Wenyue Market, Qin Sang had bought such a wooden sword from her.
"Did he die not long ago?" Qingjun asked, seeing that Qingzhu’s body was intact instead of a pile of white bones. Her sharp eyebrows lifted, her gaze suddenly grew cold and a strand of anger crept into her tone.
After Qingzhu’s disappearance from Ziwei Palace, no one had heard from him. He had vanished without a trace.
For centuries they had been apart. Qingjun had known fragments of what had happened at Ziwei Palace and she understood that Qingzhu had been in terrible danger then, barely surviving. Everyone...
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