"This wine really doesn't suit me."
"It's too bitter!"
"You aren't worthy of treating me to White Confucian Wine. You and I can't be friends. The next time we meet... perhaps the Great Zhou will be no more."
Su Chen left.
In the guise of Xu Ge, he carried the Sword Box on his back, walking on through the wind and snow, continuing toward the Imperial Mausoleum.
He left Long Xuanjun standing alone, utterly dispirited.
The bright moon broke through the dark clouds.
In that instant, under the moonlight, Long Xuanjun's thick black hair turned white as frost. He stood disheveled and utterly despondent.
His hair had turned white in a single night.
'I never thought... that I would be the one to personally extinguish the last spark of Great Zhou's vitality.'
Long Xuanjun gave a bitter laugh.
A figure approached through the snow, gazing toward the Imperial Mausoleum. Her eyes were gloomy, filled with confusion as to how this man had slain a Grandmaster of the Second Realm.
