Upon hearing that voice, the once lively and bustling funeral hall seemed to be swept by a chilling wind, not only bone-chilling but also piercing to the heart. Shang Ruyi shivered almost instinctively and hurriedly turned her head.
Just at that moment, a breeze carrying the coolness of early autumn lifted a spirit flag in the center of the funeral hall.
Although just a few spirit flags apart, the hall was brightly lit, but surprisingly, there was not a trace of light in the inner hall, so dark that one could hardly see a hand in front of them. Amidst that ink-like darkness, a shadow, as if formed by the condensation of the endless night, slowly emerged from the darkness. The moment he reached out to lift the spirit flag, Shang Ruyi even felt dazed, as if this person was wearing black clothes, merging seamlessly with the darkness.
Yet, when he walked out, he was clad in snow-white.
It was Yu Wenqian!
