C112 Bowl of blood

Duan Chengxuan dreamt that he wasn't there for a long time.

It was no longer the warm little hand that fell into Su Yuwan's hands in winter, nor was it smelling death in the midst of the sand that was filled with yellow sand, nor was it the warm blood that was splattering all over the battlefield.

But it was only a blurry figure of Gu Mingyan's back.

In her dreams