It had been two days since their sudden encounter at lingji temple. The lake of Ye Wanwan's heart, which was in a state of chaos and panic because of si yuanzhen, finally calmed down.
Ye Wanwan's Black hair was soft and black, emitting a soft and bright luster like top-quality brocade draped behind her head, exuding an ancient, elegant, and gentle style.
She gently tied her long hair into a bun and pulled open the drawer of the dressing table. A rough wooden hairpin came into view. The wooden hairpin made of the Bodhi branch was no longer full and fresh like when it was newly folded. The body of the hairpin was gradually yellow and slightly shriveled, making the rough wooden hairpin even more ugly.
Ye Wanwan hesitated for a moment but still picked up the wooden hairpin and threw it into the trash can. She also took out a silver hairpin and tied her long hair to the back of her head.
