Anlan Xintong walked around the main hall, looking a little listless.
She sat in front of the table again and rested her head on the table. Tears came out and fell on the table drop by drop.
Anlan Xintong cried silently, her tears falling down. She called out softly,"manzhu, manzhu ..."
Her voice was very soft, as if she was only saying it for herself, but her voice also spread out with the wind.
Anlan Xintong was immersed in her own thoughts, so she didn't notice that the wind in the air was getting stronger.
……
Yue manzhu was dressed in a black brocade robe. Like the wind, she quietly appeared in the hall. The robe on her body gently fluttered.
The moonlight gently shone on him, making him look as beautiful as a poem or a painting. His figure was like a Jade Tree, but his face was a little pale.
Yue manzhu's figure was even colder.