In the Sword Sect's base, as the sound of water echoed around, within the palace of Dawn City.
The dark night was as quiet as sleep, the world deserted as if lifeless.
Jing Lixue stood with her hands behind her back on the rooftop, her dark and exquisite hair tumbling like three thousand streams, weaving a tapestry of splendor.
She gazed at the lonely moon hanging in the sky, lost in a daze.
A girl with her eyes blindfolded by a black cloth pushed a wheelchair out from the palace hall, looking up at the figure in blue standing on the rooftop, at the intersection of the bright moonlight and the dark flame light, half cold and solitary, half as dazzling as the rosy clouds.
"Your Highness..."
She called softly.
"The time you spoke of has come."
"Has it?"
Jing Lixue withdrew her gaze, her beautiful face returning to calm and indifference as if righting an overturned water glass.
"Finally, it has come."
