The voice was all too familiar to Li Xiaoqiang, she was a woman of few words, cherishing each one like gold. She was mysterious in Li Xiaoqiang's heart, sacred and inviolable. This kind of woman seemed like a white lotus from Snow Lotus Mountain touched by the dust of immortals.
In her hand, Arrow Feather seemed like a divine weapon; as long as she wished to deal with someone, their head would be blown apart instantly.
The people in the square all heard the sound of the Jade Flute; its timbre entering their ears, clarifying their spirits.
They all looked up towards the horizon.
Li Xiaoqiang's gaze also shifted into the distance, where he saw a woman in white fur, sitting askew upon a Snow Wolf.
Hong Yue played her flute, drawing everyone's gaze upon her, as if she were the protagonist of this world.
