Bai Yanren finished speaking.
After all these years, Feng Yiru's beautiful face seemed unchanged, as if time had left no marks on her. Only the wind tousling her bangs occasionally veiled her eyes, and with them, the familiar affection and trust from those years.
In the torrential blood rain, the water droplets splattering by her legs were like bullets stained with blood, piercing through her body.
"I... understand. So, Bai Yanliang, like you, is an outlier among us, and that's why he was always chosen by Fog Gathering..." Feng Yiru said with a smile. From her expression, Bai Yanren could catch a glimpse of something familiar, as if she truly understood, "If, ten years ago, you were the living among the dead, then today, Bai Yanliang is the dead among the living. Am I right to say that?"
Bai Yanren didn't speak. He simply extended his hand towards her and reiterated, "The key, give it to me."
