Shen Ning sat quietly next to him, neither speaking nor crying anymore.
She tore off another piece of clothing and slowly wiped away the blood on his face, her movements gentle and gentle, as if she was afraid of waking him up.
Finally, it was wiped clean.
"By the way, there is one more thing I want to ask you. What is your real name?" She spoke slowly.
Although she knew he would never answer again, she still asked.
The Thousand-faced Young Master lay there calmly, his face the same as before.
"Then let's call you Qianqian." Shen Ning said.
She bent down and wanted to pick up his body. Suddenly, something fell from his hand.
It was a peach wood hairpin, all stained red with blood.
Shen Ning looked at the hairpin. The carving was poor and terrible. This hairpin was for women. How could he, a grown man, keep it with him
Doesn't he hate others treating him as a woman
However, this hairpin is so familiar, as if I have seen it somewhere.
She slowly bent down, picked up the peach wood hairpin, and looked at it intently.
Suddenly, a picture appeared in front of her eyes.
"Qianqian, this hairpin is for you, do you like it?" The person speaking was herself. She was playing with a newly carved peach wood hairpin with a proud expression.
"I like it." It was Young Master Qianmian. He took it with a smile and put it on his head.
It turns out that this hairpin was given to him by myself!
Shen Ning raised the corners of her lips and smiled. This was also part of her missing memory, and she remembered some more.
But there was no joy in her heart, instead sadness and melancholy filled her heart.
She put the peach hairpin back into his arms, and then picked up his body. It was very difficult, but she still didn't let go.
Move forward step by step.
She wanted to find a place with water and bury him with her own hands.
He was a killer during his lifetime, and his hands were stained with the blood of innocent people. He must have regretted it, so he would wash it with water after his death.
She heard the sound of rushing water in her ears. It was a mountain spring with clear and transparent water.
Right here.
He must like the beautiful scenery here.
The sky is white, the air is fresh, and the morning birds are chirping in the trees, singing sweet songs.
The killing and bloodshed at night seemed like a dream.
Shen Ning gently put down the Thousand-faced Young Master, found a hard branch, and began to dig a hole.
When Zhui Feng saw this, he moved and wanted to go over and help.
Mo Chuan glanced at him and shook his head slightly. Zhui Feng stopped and stood behind Mo Chuan, standing quietly.
Shen Ning was so tired that she was sweating profusely and finally dug a deep hole.
But when she was burying him, she couldn't bear to let the beautiful face of the Thousand-faced Young Master be covered by the mud, so she gently tore off a piece of clothes and covered his face, covering up the peaceful face.
The soil is sprinkled little by little.
No one could have imagined that the Qianmian Gongzi, the most feared killer of Zixiao Pavilion, would end up in a pile of loess below.
Even if someone knew, no one would come here to pay homage to him.
So Shen Ning didn't even erect a tombstone.
She knew that he didn't need anyone's condolences, and he didn't care about others' condolences.
He was proud when he was alive, and he was just as proud when he died...
There had never been a moment when she felt like she knew him so well and understood his lonely and proud heart.
But, he is already dead.
Shen Ning stared at the loess quietly, like a stone statue.