Xu Yanli watched her in silence, watching the face that flickered in and out of the dim, yellow lamplight.
Suddenly, he smiled.
The smile was utterly calm, but for some reason, the Duchess of White Tiger felt a chill stab through her heart as she looked at him.
It was as if the person standing before her had gone a little mad.
"Are you finished?"
His voice was still calm, yet it carried an inexplicable pressure that made it hard to breathe.
The Duchess of White Tiger opened her mouth, but not a sound came out.
Xu Yanli took a step forward.
He didn't come through the door. He climbed in through the window, then walked step by step into the room, into this place piled high with incense ash and filled with shattered idols.
He went to the offering table and gently ran his hand over the wooden carving, its surface slashed to shreds.
"You knelt before her for twelve years."
His voice was very soft, as if he were talking to himself.
"You treated her as a god."
"But after she died, you were the one who slashed her face to pieces."
He turned around, fixing his gaze directly on the Duchess of White Tiger.
Her eyes now held an indescribable sorrow, and a kind of madness.
Yet he had an inexplicable premonition that, if he hadn't been lucky, his own fate might not have been much better.
If the Divine Realm hadn't been obscured, I wouldn't matter. Now that the Divine Realm had been obscured, he had to prepare for the worst.
"Are you kneeling here in sincere repentance, or are you just making excuses for yourself?"
The Duchess of White Tiger trembled faintly.
"You sent people to kill me, but you never really meant to kill