The palace walls of the West Hwa Gate cast long shadows in the twilight. Pi Yanlin’s cloth shoes crunched over the bluestone, his pace a fraction slower than usual.
Gu Qinghuan walked at his side, the scabbard of her Ghost-Slaying Saber brushing against her hem with a soft, rustling sound—her habitual posture of vigilance.
"What do you make of the situation at Mirror Lake?" she asked suddenly, her voice like a blade dipped in ice water.
Chapter 190