Chen Ji stood on East First Street, with Zhongcui Palace on his left and Jingyang Palace on his right. Though separated by a street, it felt like an insurmountable chasm.
He turned his head and quietly observed. The red walls, gray tiles, and the snow-white skin on the girl's neck stood out starkly.
The blue Daoist robe on the girl looked pristine like a swan, yet as delicate as a kite.
Chen Ji gazed at that silhouette, wanting to call out softly to her, but feared his voice might startle her away.
For a moment, it felt like he was back at the small Taiping Medical Hall, the first time she timidly peeked through the courtyard wall, ready to flee at any moment.
Just then, someone called out from Zhongcui Palace, "Chen Ji?"
Chen Ji was startled and saw the girl's hand in Jingyang Palace pause, as if frozen in place.
She had heard.
