At the end of December, it was the cold of winter and a deserted mountain, with no buildings around to block the wind. It whistled from every direction, and even though there were people shielding her from all sides, Jiaojiao still shivered from the cold, her face stinging from the biting gusts.
Xiu Xi held her hand tightly, his brow tightly knotted.
Ruan Hao, next to them, also said, "If you can't take it, just say so and go warm up in the car first."
Jiaojiao smiled at them. She was indeed having some trouble withstanding the cold, but she still wished to see Wen Yu personally—she felt too much sympathy for this woman.
Like Shu Jiao, she was a cherished daughter of heaven, but because of upheaval, they ended up in this place. Their once-happy lives were full of tragedies, but Shu Jiao had a chance to start over, whereas she did not.
"That Xiu Jianlin is truly despicable!" Ruan Jianguo, walking ahead, looked at the almost flat graveyard in front of him and cursed quietly.
