Her body stood in the mountain wind, her delicate form in the raging wind, her elegant hair flying in disarray, her garments fluttering wildly.
She clearly said, "Fang Che, you and I... will meet again in the Jianghu."
Her body suddenly floated up, as if lifted by the fierce wind.
Her slender body drifted like a spirit in the wind, and in the blink of an eye, she vanished without a trace.
Fang Che stood at the mountain top.
From beginning to end, he did not move.
Nor did he make any attempts to hold her back.
His eyes lingered long on the slope where Yan Beihan had just stood; over there, the wild grass swayed with the wind, undulating and floating.
Fang Che's gaze was deep.
After a long time, he finally closed his eyes.
The mountain wind blew, leaving a chill across his chest.
That was the trace left by Yan Beihan's tears.
He was about to leave.
Yet he saw, at the spot where Yan Beihan had once sat, a bundle and three Jade Bottles.
