Ye Liqing stood before the corpse of White Robe. This was just the beginning, and the sunlight streaming through the window lattice hadn't yet entered the clouds; night had not yet begun.
White Robe was dead!
All along, watching the battle deemed as a sacrifice on the screen, no one intervened. Even the appearance of a minor character could have changed Ye Liqing's original intention, but no one appeared from beginning to end. It was merely a reflection of indifference and ruthlessness; the dark world is like this, each minds their own business without caring for others.
The sound of footsteps echoed in the corridor; it was always so long and endless.
The difference was that the light shooting in through the window lattice grew shorter, fingers stained with blood. The guide seemed not in the least disturbed by the killing of White Robe, as if that was just how it should be. What happens behind closed doors has nothing to do with the outside world.
