Chou's death was just too swift, too sudden.
The sight of the plant spirit's lifeless little body sprawled on the ground was incomprehensible to Li Meirong.
His death had come so suddenly and unexpectedly that she could barely even begin to digest what had just happened. Only a few seconds ago, his high-pitched voice and pouty lips had been directed at her. Chou's creeping vines had hovered beautifully in the air, like ropes tumbling down from the heavens. And then, suddenly, without warning, he had dropped dead!
She couldn't believe he died. She refused to believe he died.
Hot tears slowly trailed down Li Meirong's cheeks, dripping from her chin and falling like gentle rain, soaking Chou's dark curls.
