At his feet, nearly a hundred corpses lay piled atop the pristine white snow. The water flowing from their bodies had already stained the surrounding snow...,No one would care, Ye Qingtang, whether she lived or died.,He was a handsome, breathtaking man, his white clothes fluttering in the wind. He stood motionless by Ye Qingtang's body, gazing at the gaping hole that had been ripped open, the faint breath slowly dissipating from the wound.。