She saw Zhao Yixing's face turn ghostly pale, and then return to normal as he processed her unfamiliar features.
"Xu Wei, let's go."
She spoke again.
Zhao Yixing's expression wasn't as startled as before, but his gaze was still deep and dark.
Zhao Yixing was haunted by the sound of her voice.
Just as she predicted, Zhao Yixing's heart was already in turmoil.
He would never forget Ruan Youqing's voice, even to his dying day.
The piercing screams of that woman before her death, and her voice through phone calls and voice messages they shared, he wouldn't mistake it.
But the woman standing before him was radiant, even a little alluring.
She was not Ruan Youqing.
Ruan Youqing, he had watched with his own eyes, perish in the flames.
There was no such thing as ghosts or spirits in this world.
He was shocked at the idea that there could exist another woman with the exact same voice.
