Slice… What an unoriginal trap.
The wall pulled open and revealed several steps leading into the darkness.
Meng Fuyao remained fearless as she followed the steps up, but she had only gone up several steps when the first thing that entered her line of vision was a white screen with plum blossom embroidery.
Behind the screen, under the dim light of the lantern, she saw the silhouette of a man in white robes, both hands tied high above him. His robes were disheveled and stained with blood, and the rope that bound his hands tightly together had cut into the flesh. Tatters of his robe were dangling, and there were wounds all over his body.
That person seemed to be already unconscious, his head lowered. Long, black hair covered his face.
Meng Fuyao froze.
Was that Zong Yue?
