"Whether mortal or divine,"
the fat shopkeeper sighed, his tone far more sincere than before. "In this life, there should be someone worth remembering. Otherwise, even if he lives, he is no different from the dead."
Yan Hui did not reply.
He merely gave a cold laugh.
But as he laughed, his smile grew uglier and heavier, until it finally twisted into something almost feral.
Looking at his face, the fat shopkeeper suddenly did not know what to say.
Just then, the door opened.
A gust of wind and snow swept in, carrying a crisp, biting chill.
Then a man and a woman entered.
The man looked to be around thirty. He was exceptionally handsome, with refined features and gentle brows and eyes. He wore a well-tailored moon-white robe, with a fine jade pendant hanging at his waist.
At a glance, he was clearly a well-bred young master from an aristocratic family, poised in manner and mild in bearing.
The woman followed behind him, dressed in a brocade robe embroidered with gold thread. Her black hair was like clouds, her skin like creamy jade. There was a faint scholarly air between her brows, yet she did not lack a woman's delicate charm.
She stepped inside lightly, her footsteps almost soundless, like a cloud drifting into this shabby tavern.
The fat shopkeeper's eyes nearly popped out of his head.
He had seen many women—beautiful ones, ugly ones, fiery ones, gentle ones.
But this was the first time in his life he had seen someone like her—not the kind of dazzling beauty that overwhelmed the eye, but an indescribable charm.
The kind that made one want to look again after the first glance.
And after one more look, one could no longer look away.
Yan Hui saw them as well.
Holding his