Inside the room hung that snow-white soft robe. Wang Zhaojun could not help reaching out to touch it; there was not a shred of warmth upon it, only his faint, lingering scent.
Two hundred years had passed. That man had appeared before her with the breathtaking brilliance of an epiphytic flower, only to vanish from her world just as fleetingly.
Li Bai knocked on Wang Zhaojun's door, his voice like the murmuring water of a thawed glacier: "Sister, it's getting late. We should be heading to Fairy Zixia's wedding banquet."
Chapter 40