Jiang Ye crushed the frost crystals on the ice with the tip of his boot, the gear brand on the back of his neck throbbing.
Ye Shuli suddenly grabbed his wrist. Where their palms pressed together, a bronze-colored light seeped out, and the phantom gears swirling in the gray mist suddenly magnified, projecting the outlines of nine overlapping bronze gates onto the ice field.
A crisp sound of bells drifted from the mist, and the wind laden with ice shards suddenly gained warmth.
Chapter 570