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"It seems I've really transmigrated—"
Inside the luxurious and exquisitely decorated carriage, Zong Shou expressionlessly gazed at the round mirror before him.
The reflection in the mirror clearly showed a not-yet-adult boy. Around thirteen, with a pale complexion, but the facial features were rarely seen, delicate, and peerless.
A pair of narrow phoenix eyes shimmered with light. However, at the moment, they were filled with bitterness and helplessness.
I remember just a short while ago, I was just an ordinary face in the crowd, the kind that could never be found if lost.
