Jiang Ruan, under the great shock, had her brain scrambled, and saw nothing but a vague fog before her, having no clue where she was.
All she could perceive was the seemingly trembling ground beneath her.
Several cries echoed in her ears.
Some hysterical, others desperate or angry.
An abrupt illness held her back from responding.
When she tried to stand up, a surge of heat sprayed from behind her, rolling in her direction, with a tremendous explosion reverberating in the air.
In that instance.
Two dark figures rushed toward her.
She could vaguely make out one of them.
It was Lou Luchuan.
The other—
She tried hard to open her eyes, but saw nothing clearly, and in the next moment, she was embraced and then harshly pushed away by that figure.
In her daze, she recognized a familiar scent.
It seemed to be—
Bo Qingyu's scent, a kind of specially made high-end perfume.
Made from bellflowers.
Which she was very familiar with.
But the next second.
