Xie Zhenting could scarcely believe what he had heard, yet he did not dare argue.
He lowered his head, his expression dark and unreadable, before turning and leaving the chamber.
The doors shut behind him with a dull thud.
Silence fell.
Ningyan remained where he stood by the open window, the cold wind spilling into the room and stirring the loose strands of his white hair. His violet eyes lingered on the closed doors, narrowing.
Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.
At first, it had only been a doubt, a small thorn buried beneath flesh.
But now?
That thorn had rooted itself deep into his bones.
He Yuting's hesitation.
Xie Zhenting's fury.
The way both of them danced around the truth as though speaking it aloud would shatter everything.
Ningyan's fingers curled tightly against the windowsill.
What exactly were they hiding from him?
The volcano had given him nothing, only emptiness. Which meant there was only one path left.
Find them. Lan Meishan or Yan Wuhen....
