"Cough, cough, cough..."
In the ensuing silence, a faint cough echoed. Then, the wheels of a chair turned, clattering against the bluestone floor with a sharp, heavy thud that made hearts tremble. A man in black, wearing a silver mask, pushed a heavy black wheelchair out from the living room on the southeast side.
Sitting in the chair was a man draped in white brocade robes. His long hair was draped loosely, flowing like ink spilled in water, smooth and lustrous. His face was stunningly beautiful, his temperament ethereal, as if no one else in this world could ever compare to him.
Chapter 187