C213 dust

Hu Yan's slender fingers lightly strummed the strings of his zither, and the leaves of his zither began to sway in the air, accompanied by disorderly zither music.

As he watched Fang Miaomiao's disappearing figure, a hint of coldness congealed in the depths of her eyes. With a low voice, he muttered to himself, "In this world, there will never be an eternal victor. You are no exception