The autumn wind was piercing, sweeping across the land, making it seem so bitterly cold.
In the great mountains miles outside the capital, Kyoto.
A woman, dressed in a moon-white long dress, with a pale complexion, descended from the heavens.
Her eyelashes were long and captivatingly beautiful, and those peach blossom-like eyes conveyed profound sorrow.
This person was no other than Fang Yang's fourth disciple, Hua Lianyue.
Ever since the last time she and her master celebrated their nuptial night, the temptations of the secular world had been mostly stripped away from her.
Her body, already frail, seemed even more desolate now.
Managing to hold on until now, against the oppression of the Blood Rain Sect, was a feat not easily accomplished.
"Cough cough..."
A bout of coughing broke the silence.
The blood she feared to stain her hands, like a delicate rose, seemed poised to wither at any moment.
