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Han Qianling sat quietly under the deep snowflake tree in Luo Jiujiang's courtyard, his brows tightly furrowed.
He had already taken off the Buddhist beads from his wrist and held them in his hand, counting each bead over ten times. He even chewed two raw flowers of the deep snow flower that he had planted specifically to calm his mind.
However, all these calming methods that used to be very useful have lost their effectiveness.
Han Qianling knew very well why he was so anxious.
Since Luo Cang could reveal his biggest secret without hesitation, his identity must be extraordinary. If he hadn't been sure that he had no ill will towards Luo Jiujiang, he wouldn't have allowed Luo Jiujiang to go to the appointment today.
However, watching Luo Jiujiang walk towards the man he had no confidence in dealing with was like putting a treasure he cherished most into a wolf's mouth. It made him feel irritated and angry.
It wasn't just the sense of helplessness and remorse that came with not being able to hold onto the precious treasures, but also the pity of seeing beautiful jades sink into the mud, white feathers covered in dust, and brocade trampled underfoot—how could a wild wolf know the value of pearls and jade? How could anyone else recognize the rarity of Luo Jiujiang at first glance?
Han Qianling clutched the Buddhist beads in his hand, and when he opened his eyes again, a faint glint of deep blue appeared in his pupils. A deep snowflake, the size of an adult's palm, floated down from the sky. Han Qianling shook his head, bit it between his teeth, and swallowed it in a few gulps.
As soon as the sweet, fragrant petals went down his throat, a wave of clarity and clarity rose from his dantian and surged up to his head. Combined with the medicinal properties of the two deep snowflakes he had previously swallowed, Han Qianling took a deep breath, taking the opportunity to recall some past events that would calm him down.
About Luo Jiujiang's past.
In his childhood, six of his seven emotions were obscured, but his evil thoughts were crystal clear. The flowers, birds, and plants that the world admired as scenery were, in his eyes, every inch soaked in blood.
If there was no mad Chen in front of him, whose mind was dominated by hatred, he would not want to repeat Chen's mistakes, so he tried his best to use reason to restrain the unreasonable anger in his heart. Han Qianling would have fallen into the evil path long ago.
The author has something to say: Thanks to Wusuoyo for the mine x1
Thanks for the blue mine x1
Thanks to Tanxiamio for the mine x1
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