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"It seems I really have traveled through time—"
In the opulently decorated carriage, Zong Shou watched expressionlessly at a round mirror before him.
The image in the mirror was of a clearly underage boy. About thirteen, his complexion was pale, but his features were unusually handsome and delicate to an extreme.
A pair of slender phoenix eyes shimmered brilliantly. However, at this moment, they were full of bitterness and helplessness.
He remembered that not long ago, he still had an utterly ordinary, common face—one that would absolutely go unnoticed in a crowd.
