At the hour of the Ox, the world remained shrouded in darkness. Zhao Yan opened his eyes to find nothing but endless gloom; tonight, even the moon seemed to have gone on strike, refusing to shed a sliver of light.
Darkness seemed to sprawl infinitely. Enveloped in this impenetrable atmosphere, Zhao Yan felt as if an invisible hand were crushing his throat. He struggled powerlessly, but his efforts were to no avail.
It was an unbearable, indescribable suffering.
Chapter 60