At his feet, nearly a hundred corpses lay piled atop the pristine white snow. The water flowing from their bodies had already stained the surrounding snow...,Ye Qingtang slowly closed her eyes, looking back on her life, filled with countless regrets.,The melodious, low voice was ripped apart by the raging wind. The man slowly crouched down, his long and handsome fingers reaching towards the gushing wound. wisps of breath constantly flowed from Ye Qingtang's wound, dotting the man's palm, condensing into a half-bright heart.。