The time in the small courtyard quietly slipped away.
Since Li Hao and Bian Ruxue returned from the temple fair that day, neither of them had gone out again, both quietly waiting for that day to arrive.
On ordinary days, Bian Ruxue practised her swordsmanship in the courtyard, focusing only on her Sword Intent, and not her sword moves.
Otherwise, the formidable might of her sword moves would likely sever the last hints of autumn in the courtyard.
After finishing her sword dance, the girl turned her gaze back to the pavilion.
But the pavilion was now empty, no longer housing the figure of the boy from before.
In the girl's clear eyes, as pure as the first snow, an involuntary shade of sadness and despondency appeared, but only for a moment before she gathered herself and delved back into the cultivation of her Sword Intent.
