C1284 Xuanyuan

"Xuanyuan..." The woman's voice, as melodious as a songbird's, rose gently, her eyebrows, soft as smoke, furrowing slightly. Her captivating eyes fixed on the broken sword atop the altar, betraying a hint of nostalgia.

A gentle breeze caressed her moonlit, silver hair, casting a faint glow around her elegant figure. Her simple gown fluttered softly in the wind