"Escape... from Dachen?"
An Jing did not immediately grasp the meaning of these words. Bai Qinghan lifted her gaze, deep within her obsidian eyes, a dark, mysterious cyan luster swirled.
This serene gaze, framed by skin as fair as snow, made her look like an elf stepped out from a painting, or a young fawn crouching in the green grass at dawn—harmless and endearing.
Chapter 42