Within the Imperial Mausoleum, seeing Zhao Rong silently depart the Main Hall and head toward the Rear Hall, Gui couldn't help but fall into deep thought...
"Zhao Rong."
It couldn't help but call out.
The Confucian Scholar with the severed arm said nothing, clutching the Jade Token and sachet as he continued onward.
At this moment, a certain Purple-clothed Sword Spirit pondered and said earnestly:
"Zhao Rong, are you thinking of having one last thrill before you die?"
The young Confucian Scholar moving silently forward couldn't help but twitch at the corner of his mouth, paused briefly, shook his head speechlessly, and then continued onward.
At this moment, the White Jade Token was continuously emanating heat, as if a piece of ink jade a thousand miles away was being vigorously rubbed by a girl with autumn eyes, making the White Jade Token somewhat scalding.
The one-armed Confucian Scholar still paid no heed, just gripping it tightly.
