Was she going to join Yan Hui in dealing with Wang Xian?
Or would she sit back and watch the tigers fight, helplessly watching Wang Xian knock Yan Hui from his peak once more?
Or... did she have other thoughts?
Ye Honglian's fingers suddenly trembled.
She was startled by the vague thought in her heart and hurriedly raised the poetry book higher, hiding her burning cheeks.
Yet no matter what she did, she could not chase those images away.
Amid wind and snow, Wang Xian stood in the snowfield with his eyes shut, drawing his bow to its full extent. That arrow shot through the air with a piercing whistle, flying toward Yan Hui's figure atop the snowy mountain.
The arrow's radiance split the long night like a meteor flying in reverse.
She had witnessed that scene with her own eyes in the secret realm.
At that moment, her heart had pounded wildly.
Not from anger, nor from fear.
It was because that arrow had been too breathtaking.
So breathtaking that she forgot she was Yan Hui's fiancée, forgot that she should have rushed forward to stop that man, and even forgot to breathe.
Yet she also remembered clearly... after leaving the secret realm, she had once again pursued Wang Xian with her sword. He had fled miserably beneath her blade without striking back even once.
He had clearly been capable of shooting Yan Hui down, yet he had not drawn his sword against her.
Why?
Ye Honglian closed the poetry book and gently placed it beside the marriage contract. The autumn wind blew into the pavilion, stirring the hair at her temples and the bright red cover of the contract, revealing a corner of the red paper within, upon which her and Yan Hui's birth dates and horoscopes were