Wen Qing's appearance has long been different from the beautiful Jiyue in her memory. Not to mention the wounds on his body, the loss of his left hand is more conspicuous. She can imagine that on that cruel battlefield, How he used his only hand to tightly hold onto her pearl hairpin.
Su Mu put one hand lightly on the edge of the coffin, she saw him seriously, his appearance at this time was indeed not good, even scary, but when she looked at him, there was something in her eyes. Only when he left with the army, he smiled and told her that he would come back and marry her.
Zhao Furong thoughtfully left her the space to be alone with him, but only Su Mu knew that at this moment, she had no other emotions other than shock, regret, and disbelief.
She knew exactly why.
Su Mu's face is blank, even though she hates herself very much.
In one of her hands is the blood-stained pearl hairpin, and in the other is the mahogany plaque engraved with her name. No one knows better than her that if the current situation remains unchanged, she There will be no pain of losing a lover, and you can continue to enjoy the sweet time with another man.
No matter how she thinks, she should maintain the status quo is the best choice.
Indeed, she once had such a cowardly thought for such a moment, but it was only for a moment.
Wen Qing died, he died so suddenly on the battlefield.
She couldn't imagine whether there was that person's handwriting behind it, but she didn't dare to stop doubting it, and it was because she still "liked" him, and she always said it was impossible in her heart, and subconsciously wanted to do it for him. He excused.
All kinds of thoughts in her mind seemed to tear her whole body apart, she hated it! She wants to clearly, clearly like someone!
Su Mu looked at the brazier in front of the coffin, where the flames burning with paper money kept jumping, as if it could burn her eyes, she raised her left hand tremblingly, clearly wanting to put the thing in her hand Let it go and let it fall into the flames, but there is another voice in my mind that keeps shouting, controlling her not to do so.
She understood that the latter voice did not belong to her.
The blood in the palm of her left hand kept dripping into the fire, Su Mu held the pearl hairpin tightly with the other hand, it seemed that this pearl hairpin gave her strength, and a trace of blood leaked from her tightly biting lips.
Just when the figure of the young man in white appeared out of thin air, she finally let go of her trembling left hand stiffly.
The peach blossom stick fell into the fire, and soon a flame ignited.
Yuelao, who was guarding the door, sighed, the emotions obtained by relying on foreign objects come and go quickly.
The next second, the man grabbed her hand in a panic and pulled her into his arms. His voice rarely revealed a trace of eagerness, "Mumu, let's get out of here."
She remained silent, and pushed him away with all her strength, and took two steps back unsteadily, her back hit the coffin.
His eyes were dim, but he was still stubborn. He reached out to her again, but she squatted on the ground with her head in her arms and screamed, "Ah!"
His hands stopped.
Just because her voice was full of despair.
He stepped forward slowly, lowered his eyelids, and asked gently: "Mumu, let's get out of here, shall we?"
Su Mu became quiet. Gradually, the small and depressing cries amplified. She put her hands on the cold coffin, as if she had exhausted all her strength and said intermittently: "He is dead... Wen Qing is dead... I like it." people are dead!"