The sky above Jingdou was periodically cloudy and clear. It could never quite fully demonstrate a smile or a worried expression, just like Fan Ruoruo's current face. The girl's face turned ashen. After hearing these words, her earlier slightly sweaty and flushed face became fearful, fully demonstrating the emotions a subject of the Qing Kingdom should be expressing.
It was a warm spring day, but it was as if Fan Ruoruo's body had been tortured in an ice house. It took a moment before she could answer in a low and trembling voice, "I don't know."
This was the most useless and natural answer. Fan Xian had fallen into a black pit and could not extricate himself. Taking his sister's hand could, at most, up the number of pitiful descendants torn to shreds by one. It would not be of any help to the matter.
