Creak.
The heavy stone door slowly swung open.
Chen Zhixing stepped forward, a sharp chill sweeping over him, as a hall covered in ice flowers came into view.
The entire stone palace hall was empty, with no decorations, appearing cold and solemn.
Only on the icy stone seat in the center of the hall, sat a silver-haired old woman, as if a flickering candle in the wind.
The old woman's frail body resembled melting and solidified wax, sitting there all alone, as though she's been there for eternity, with only the snow and wind for company.
At a glance, except for her deep, desolate eyes, no one would suspect that this old woman is the king of the mysterious Snow Demon Race.
The Snow Demon King had lived through countless years, her heart seldom stirred.
But now, she was not as tranquil as she initially appeared.
Looking at Chen Zhixing, who had entered the hall alone, there was a subtle surprise in the Snow Demon King's eyes.
