The southern sky was pitch black, stripped of the faintest glint of light—a firmament blotted out by turbulent spiritual energy.
In a daze, she seemed to recall the first time they met inside the Red Pavilion, where she had giggled upon laying eyes on such an intriguing little man for the very first time.
The memories between them were scarce; she could scarcely think of any moment they shared that felt truly worthy of being etched into her heart.
Chapter 347