Fan Xuan watched as Pei Yuhang pushed open the door and walked out into the dark, snowy night.
Before the door closed completely, a cold wind carrying fine snowflakes gusted into the room, rustling the hair at her temples.
She narrowed her beautiful eyes, a murky, unreadable light flashing within them. Then, she lowered her head and spoke to the shadow at her feet.
"Hmph. Fan Xuan, it seems Xiaohan doesn't trust you either. I can see he has no passion for you at all. In fact, he's even a little wary."
The shadow beneath her wavered uneasily, its edges rippling slightly. It seemed to shrink back like a small, wronged animal.
"My apologies, Holy Daughter. This subordinate is useless for failing to gain Pei Yuhang's trust."
Hearing Fan Xuan's self-reproach from within the shadow, Shang Miaoyan let out a soft laugh.
