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Meng Fuyao mounted on the horse and said, ”Zhuzhu, go back first. Let me be alone for a while.”

Feeling worried, Ya Lanzhu was about to oppose, but she suddenly changed her mind. ”Be careful then.”

Meng Fuyao nodded, and her horse galloped away against the wind. Weaving through crowds and zooming past alleys, she rode towards the direction closest to Qiongcang.

Ten miles away from the city, a small mountain and a glistening pond could be seen on the horizon.

When she dismounted and admired the scenery, she got lost in her thoughts. Somewhere in her memory, she remembered that her hometown also had such a crystal-clear pond, which she used to fish in when she was young.

In such a frosty and dark night with the gentle breeze and the wilting flowers, who would light up the path for the lost? Who would use his body temperature to warm the hearts of the disheartened?

Behind her, someone slowly approached her and spoke, ”Fuyao, the brave are not afraid of crying.”

His voice was gentle and encompassed the deep and steady tone of one who had been through ups and downs. It sounded as though he had been through the same pain, like a piece of jade that cracked and reflected a beautiful gleam which appeared shiner and warmer.

Meng Fuyao suddenly turned back… and leaped towards the warmth.

She leaped into his hug.

In her whole life, her tears had never been so worthless, and buckets after buckets of them fell and drenched his shoulder. The patch of light-purple cloth darkened a few shades, turning into the color of the lavenders that were beside the pond.

Meng Fuyao pressed herself tightly into his arms and boldly rubbed her tears and mucus on his shoulder. She wanted to use this seemingly imaginary hug as a consolation, for her to vent all her frustration that had been pent-up for 18 years.

She bawled, ”She has more white hair now…”

”At least they let her stay until winter…”

”She has grown age spots… age spots…”

”They must have gotten their hands on the treasure, if not where did the hospital fees come from…”

”At least they still have the conscience to accompany her…”

”What a dumb bunch, can she even eat hot pot?”

”Who's going to clean her body? Those clumsy nurses? How willing are they to help? She's so prideful… there are some things… there are some things that no one can help her with…”

”She's still waiting for me…”

Zhangsun Wuji trembled at the last line and immediately, Meng Fuyao quietened. All her negative emotions seemed to have been slightly discharged, and she realized that some things could not be said straightforwardly.

Her wish to return was something that could not be easily revealed. To her enemies, that meant asking for trouble; to her friends, it was still troublesome. The wisest and most open of her companions, Zhangsun Wuji, would allow her some space and freedom. But even he would never accept her leaving the Five Regions Continent and this world, especially if it meant eternally departing from him.

She had to bear the pain herself.

Lifting her sleeve to her face, she wiped away the tears and then collapsed on the floor - the breath that she had been hanging on to was finally released, and she no longer had any remaining strength left.

Placing his hands over her shoulder, Zhangsun Wuji hugged her shoulders as he sat down on the grass patch, and silently watched the clear moonlight.

The wind was a bit strong in the wild, and both their robes fluttered against the wind. Under the moonlight, two distinct silhouettes sat side-by-side, and their identities could not be mistaken. As they held each other in their arms, they admired the scenery until their eyes were moist. In such broad and mellow wilderness, be it one or two figures, they were but two stones that were buried in the depths of the abyss of time, surrounded by endless loneliness and barrenness.

Unexpectedly, Zhangsun Wuji's body scent turned stronger in such a frosty place. Meanwhile, bells seemed to chime from a faraway monastery. As Meng Fuyao whiffed in the scent and listened to the chimes, memories flooded back to her, and she found herself traversing between reality and imagination. In her daze, she seemed to have understood something, but that thought faded away in an instant.

Gently, Zhangsun Wuji spoke, ”Fuyao.”

”Hmm?”

”Humans are bitterly obsessed over pursuing their wants, but they don't realize that it's right beside them.”