Baiyu Capital.
Under the boundless and endless blanket of snow and wind, this place had transformed into a world of pure white.
This vast, immaculate whiteness was the sole tone of this world.
At this moment.
At the peak of Baiyu Capital Holy Mountain, amidst the sprawling palace complex, there stood a relatively secluded pavilion.
This was the newly restored Saintess Pavilion.
Fang Qingzhu stood silently, her head lowered, her eyes devoid of any spark. She resembled a lifeless puppet. This lifeless state made Fang Ruo Wo, who stood before her, frown deeply: "Qingzhu, why do you insist on being this way?"
"..."
Fang Qingzhu remained silent.
Fang Ruo Wo's sword-like brows furrowed as he swept his gaze over Fang Qingzhu.
Since the day he imprisoned Xiao Yi in the Endless Ice Prison, Fang Qingzhu had turned into this—indifferent to everything.
It seemed as if nothing could stir her heart.
She was like a walking corpse.
After a brief silence.
