Qiao Zhihe widened his eyes to look at the scenery below.
This was a beauty he had never imagined.
If someone were to take a photo of the sky with a telescope at this moment, they might see a little boy suspended in the sky in a strange posture, gazing at the scene below.
It was simply... like a dream.
Qiao Zhihe remembered that after Sister Death asked that question, he had unhesitatingly placed his hand into the palm of her gloved hand.
And then...
He sensed that he was being held, leaving the ground behind.
Yes, leaving.
He looked up, still able to see only a patch of darkness under the heavy hood, and craning his neck a bit higher, he could see those beautiful black wings behind Sister Death.
He was in the sky right now!
Every little boy has a dream about flying when they are young.
