C97

On a snowy mountain, Zhong Chun was standing on the edge of a cliff with his hands behind his back, looking at the layer of clouds below.

His clothes fluttered in the gale, and his black hair danced wildly. However, his figure stood firmly, and no one was able to shake him in the slightest. That pair of black eyes, which was always calm and emotionless, was now like snow on a snowstorm