Long Yan's face froze instantly as if he were lying in a bed of ice himself. That was all he could do in order not to freak out.
Long Zhao Xue's hand felt stiff and cold as a corpse's. The feeling was akin to touching a block of ice, only that this block of ice used to be alive, with warm blood coursing through his veins.
Scary.
It was too scary.
The flame inside the oil lamp swayed slightly, creating an illusion of Long Zhao Xue making the slightest movement inside the coffin.
Long Yan closed his eyes tightly and withdrew his hand as fast as possible. Afterward, he did not dare to look at his uncle or the First Madam. He was scared to see the disappointment in their eyes.
Oh no.
I have done something out of line.
Long Yan bit into his lip in regret.
