lt;White Bone Demong

In this chilly spring, the wind on the river is as sharp as a knife. The mountains disappear in ten thousand hues, like withered graves.,A golden coffin, naturally, is something only noble kings and aristocrats could afford;,No sooner had Zhuanzi's words left his mouth than the wild cat that had jumped into the white coffin suddenly stopped moving. It stared fixedly at the two people outside the coffin, its emerald-green eyes filled with coldness and numbness.。