Within the ancient mirror.
A man cloaked in blood-red robes wielded a crimson longsword, wandering through the vast desert.
His blood-red robe fluttered noisily in the wind.
A lonely shape under the sun, from afar, it looked like a smudge of crimson sunset.
An injured girl, clutching her bloody wound, marched relentlessly towards this crimson figure.
The crowd watching the scene was somewhat moved.
"For such a cruel and heartless blade to strike you, and still to pursue relentlessly, Palace Master of Tianxin, you are truly... infatuated." Ling Yayi opined.
Unchanged in expression, Ningtuo stared at the mirror: "She is her, I am me."
Naturally, she wouldn't want to accept that the girl in the mirror was her reality.
The scene in the mirror shifted again.
The girl with perfectly groomed brows had once again found the man in the blood-red robe. Watching him in dismay, she murmured softly, "Blood Pearl…"
