Mo Yunhan frowned, a look of grief flashing in his eyes.
"What do you mean? Does she not want to see me?"
Jiang Qingwan glanced at the holy light of merit above his head; the spirit talisman was useless against him.
That dark shadow was formed from resentment, so it was impossible for it to get close to him.
Seeing that she remained silent, the man lowered his eyes slightly.
"Is she nearby? Could she hear me?"
Jiang Qingwan suddenly became a little angry and pointed to the county princess's mansion behind her.
"The person who killed her was Yun Xiaoran, I'm certain of that. Since you're so heartbroken and reluctant to let her go, then go ask the people you should ask. What's with the sentimental act in front of a dead person!"
After she finished speaking, she turned and left.
After taking only two steps, he scooped her up around the waist and leaped onto her back, landing her steadily on the horse's back.
The falcon raised its hooves in displeasure, but quickly galloped forward under the guidance of the reins.
"Let go!"
Jiang Qingwan was genuinely angry.
However, the difference in strength was too great. If she used magic to retaliate, she would fall off her horse. She could only raise her face and glare at him angrily.
The man's face was covered in frost.
He tightened his grip on her waist with one hand, riding the horse fast and steadily, without saying where he was taking her.
Along the way, Jiang Qingwan pinched the flesh on his waist countless times, but she still felt unsatisfied.
The falcon finally stopped outside the gate of Baici Manor, and the resentment she had brought out of the county princess's mansion instantly made it restless.
Jiang Qingwan had no interest in paying attention to Mo Yunhan anymore, and looked up at the sky above the manor.
A deep sense of resentment filled the air, and dark clouds loomed overhead.
Even through the door, she could hear mournful cries, as if they wanted to pierce through the dark clouds, yet struggled helplessly.
"Shall we go in?"
The man reached out his hand to her.
Even though he knew nothing about her, he could still accurately guess what she was going to do.
This intensified Jiang Qingwan's frustration. She reached out and slapped the horse away, then dismounted.
The falcon seemed to sense her presence, and the horse jerked its rump up, nearly throwing her off her feet.
She stumbled and fell to the ground. If Mo Yunhan hadn't tugged at her waist belt from behind, she would have hit her head on the ground.
Having barely regained her balance, she angrily slapped the horse.
"You stinky horse!"
The falcon huffed and puffed, baring its teeth as if mocking her.
Jiang Qingwan kicked it again in annoyance, then looked up at Mo Yunhan.
“You bake it for me, and I’ll tell you the truth.”
The falcon let out a whistling sound.
The man gently rubbed the horse's head to comfort it.
"She was just saying it."
Jiang Qingwan's face darkened even more after her thoughts were guessed again, and she angrily pushed open the door.
She then discovered that the door was locked; she only had the land deed, not the key.
"Shall I take you over the wall?"
"Smash it!"
Jiang Qingwan pointed at him, her eyes cold and sharp.
Mo Yunhan paused for a moment, then did as instructed.
He used his internal force to shake the lock, and Jiang Qingwan raised her hand to push the door open. With a creak, a strange woody fragrance wafted out as the wooden door opened.
Upon closer inspection, it also had a putrid odor.
It smells like the scent of fine wood that has been soaked in water and become damp.
Despite its imposing appearance, the villa is actually very simply built inside.
There were no pavilions or towers, nor flowerbeds or groves.
Directly opposite the door is a row of houses standing side by side, with square corridors that, at first glance, look like displayed tombstones, exuding an eerie and sinister feeling.
"It seems they specifically hired a feng shui master to build it, otherwise they wouldn't be able to suppress this overwhelming resentment."
Mo Yunhan looked at a lonely peach tree in the corner, and vaguely saw the girl in white with a gentle smile calling out to him, "Brother Yunhan."
In the blink of an eye, the girl's eyes reddened, and she burst into tears.
"Brother Yunhan, can you really not marry me? Yaoyao would rather die than marry someone else."
The young man stood before the white horse, holding a long spear. This was his second time on the battlefield, and his fate was unknown.
Everyone said that his mother was a demon concubine, and that he was the nemesis of the Great Zhou.
His existence would diminish the fortune of the Great Zhou Dynasty, so he should be carried to the Jade Terrace and burned as a sacrifice to Heaven.
But he didn't believe it. He didn't believe his mother was a demon, and he didn't believe he was born to die.
He wanted to prove in his own way that he was not a demon or evil spirit of the Great Zhou, but that he could protect the Great Zhou and become its war god.
Only if he succeeds can his mother be officially recognized.
The boy spoke the cruelest words with a cold and hard heart.
"Then go die."
He mounted his horse and rode away resolutely.
Unwilling to let the affection from her childhood companionship hold her back.
He never expected that Yun Yaoyao was really dead.
He was hanged on a hillside where he could see his departure for war. His body was desecrated by villains, his face was slashed, and his body was not found until three days later when it began to decompose.
By then, he had already traveled over a hundred miles outside the capital.
When I returned, I only read her farewell letter, every word of which was filled with anguish.
"Jiang Qingwan!"
He called out softly, his voice hoarse, as if a blade had been sharpened by pebbles.
Jiang Qingwan was surveying the feng shui and searching for the key point of the formation when she heard this, and casually hummed in agreement.
"explain."
"Was Yun Yaoyao really killed by Yun Xiaoran?"
A raging wind swept through the empty courtyard, swirling on the ground, swirling up withered yellow leaves and broken peach blossoms, wrapping around his ankles before reluctantly departing.
Jiang Qingwan stood under the peach tree and looked back at him.
Beneath the dark gray cloak was a small, fair face, as white as jade.
"Mo Yunhan, come here."
Time seemed to be folded in that instant.
He saw the girl from back then again.
The man's footsteps unconsciously drew closer, his beautiful eyes reddening, before he stopped two steps away, his voice choked and hoarse.
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