Standing at the crossroads, Moros narrowed his eyes and stared at the colossal mansion with determination in his heart.
The dark sheets of the night covered the sky, and the gloominess of the clouds hovered above the mansion. People had closed down their shops on the street and the angel of sleep had already rested on their eyelashes.
The silence of the street and the shadows formed from the reflection of the moon made him grin. It was the perfect time for him to enter the mansion that he had been spectating for a long time.
Before he could take a step forward, he remembered how Zhao Ming was lying on the bed in a vegetative state and was fighting the battle of life and death.
He sympathized with him and said, "He deserves a life in the immortal realm and an angel as his wife, Poor him, stuck among the mortals, suffering like this…"
