One belonged to her mother, Yun Xiang.
The other, smaller gravestone naturally belonged to Xiaomo.
However, Xiaomo's gravestone didn't bear any inscription; her child had died without even a name.
Worse still, she never knew he had been lying here all along.
Flooded with these thoughts, Mo Jun's heart suffered sharp, wrenching pains, and she suddenly crouched down, attempting to dig open the grave with her bare hands.
Whether it was a skeleton or ashes.
In any case, she had to see him, even if it were for the last time.
And her child, he couldn't just be buried here so carelessly, without even a name on his gravestone!
She hadn't avenged him yet; he couldn't be laid to rest like this!
Mo Jun glared with hatred, ceaselessly excavating the solid earth.
The snow fell more heavily...
The cold weather froze the dirt, and also Mo Jun's hands. Yet she seemed oblivious to the pain, desperately digging and scraping until even her fingernails split without her feeling it.
