The man paid her no mind. The eyes staring at her gradually dimmed, his hands clenched into tight fists, his face etched with suppressed grief.
'No... it's not her.'
'How could Jin'er not recognize him?!'
'But this familiar scent, it's so clearly—'
'Or maybe... have I changed too much over the past ten years? Does she not know me anymore? Jin'er said she hated cruel and cold-blooded Wandering Beasts...'
A great sense of panic and helplessness suddenly surged through the heart of the man who had always been so decisive and ruthless.
Mi Yin's body went stiff as a board. An icy tide rushed into his heart, making his throat tighten in an instant. He lowered his head, nervously gazing at the round, purple eyes before him, desperate to find a familiar spark in the reflection they held.
Finally, he closed his eyes, then opened them again, looking down at his own hands.
It was unclear what he was thinking.
But his sharp, domineering aura visibly weakened.
