Duan Tingshu looked at his elder brother's haggard appearance and said seriously, "Elder brother, you must be exhausted after rushing back. Please wash up and rest first. Don't worry, I will personally deliver this ancient book to the Princess."
Duan Tingxuan nodded and said, "Yes, let's pack up in the next few days; we should head to the Southwest Border."
It was no longer snowing, and the roads were cleared. It was time for the Duan Family to go to the Southwest.
Perhaps there might not be a chance to return in the future.
Perhaps there might not be a chance to see her again.
As Duan Tingxuan thought of this, a feeling of emptiness spread from the deep of his heart. The wind blew, making his chest feel hollow with a delayed, dull pain.
His eyes carried an endless, aimless void.
Duan Tingshu looked at his brother's expression and was very worried, but he also knew that some things one must walk out of himself; persuasion was useless.
