The man's figure gradually became transparent until he disappeared.
Suddenly, tears were streaming down Fu min's face.
For a moment, she actually felt cold all over.
..
Until his death, Sheng Jinghua did not let Fu min know how long he had been waiting for her.
Ten thousand years of waiting, an endless cycle.
..
Until a pair of delicate and slender hands held her shoulders.
A low magnetic and cold voice sounded, as if it contained the distant laws of the great Dao, but it was also very pleasant to hear, as clear as a spring in the mountains.
"Fu Shang, don't cry."
Fu min was caught off guard and his fingers were cold, like a warm Jade. Only then did Fu min come back to his senses.
Seeing this familiar yet unfamiliar face, Fu Shang's eyes were dazed for a moment and she mumbled, ""Jun Heng?"
He rarely saw Fu min like this, or rather, he had never seen him like this before.
