Chapter 257: The Frost of Alarm
"As the jailer's voice faded, the pastry in Wang Jingze's hand dropped to the ground with a "snap"."
"The next moment, disregarding all rules, he rushed in the direction the messenger had come from. His sleeves fluttered and his long robe got smeared with mud, but he was completely oblivious."
"The pastry was trampled into pieces, and many crumbs gradually seeped into the messy and damp weeds."
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