The darkness of the night was impenetrable.
The moon was hidden by thick clouds, and one couldn't see their own hand in front of their face.
In the darkness, Mu Lianxiao's voice was deep; he spoke slowly, yet each word was like a solid footprint in the thick snow, heavy and firm.
Du Yunluo turned her head to look at Mu Lianxiao.
The night was so heavy that, even though she had gradually adjusted to the darkness, she couldn't make out Mu Lianxiao's expressions.
Only those eyes, as dense as ink, concealed all the emotions.
Du Yunluo's heart sank along with her, like drowning, but before her was a floating log, allowing her to lift her head out of the water and take a deep breath.
She had been waiting, hinting, guiding, waiting for Mu Lianxiao to bring up the suspicions about the second household.
Over the years, the second household gave Du Yunluo too few chances; every time she mentioned it to Mu Lianxiao, it was like a snail, moving a bit and then stopping.
