C299

Both of Yan Song's forehead were drenched in sweat, although the interior of the pavilion was burning red from the silver fire, Yan Song still felt that his legs were weak, his back felt cold, as though he was in an ice cellar.

Qin Wuya squinted her eyes, she did not care much about Yan Song's expression and only sipped on his tea, then casually flipped through a few books