Even the dense night could not conceal the luminous sheen of the jade, gleaming brilliantly in the darkness.
Zhou Qin saw the jade token, and her pupils suddenly contracted as she clutched her head and let out a piercing scream.
An image flashed through her mind.
Outside the door, the howling wind battered against the window frame incessantly.
The eerie calls of crows rose and fell, while the ghostly green candlelight flickered on the verge of extinguishing.
A woman lay silently in the coffin, her breathtakingly beautiful face pale as snow, reflecting a ghastly greenish hue in the wavering candle flames.
Her hands, clasped tightly over her abdomen, held a white jade token. As Zhou Qin reached out to take the jade token, she suddenly found she could not move it.
Why was it that even in death, her grip on the jade token remained so firm?
At that moment, every hair on Zhou Qin's body stood on end.
