That child, amidst this bitter winter, wore only a thin, long garment. Originally pure white, the shirt was now stained crimson by endless streams of water.,The child's gaze swept over those faces one by one, the corner of his mouth suddenly lifting into a wickedly playful curve. He raised his hand, his fingertip wiping away a drop of heat from the corner, staining that originally pale piece with a touch of eerie red.,Ye You, who was named by Ye Qingtang, frowned slightly, her eyes full of disdain. In her eyes, Ye Qingtang was nothing more than a struggling ant on the verge of death, not even worthy of her mercy.。