In the vast emptiness of the grand hall,
stood Zhang Shunlong.
He gazed at the door in the distance, where the lifeless, delicate body lay draped in a white cloth.
Tears fell like pearls off a broken string.
Rolling down incessantly.
An endless despair and helplessness surged into his heart.
He walked slowly to the entrance, pushed aside the nearby servants, and knelt beside Liu Yuting, holding her hand tightly.
Her hands were already devoid of warmth, yet Zhang Shunlong could still feel every detail on her skin.
The laughter of the past, the promises once made, the warmth, all as clear as if they were from yesterday.
Helplessly, he stared at her face, once brimming with happiness and smiles, now so serenely still. His heart twisted in agony, so painful he could hardly breathe.
"It shouldn't be like this,"
"It shouldn't be like this,"
Zhang Shunlong muttered, his vision blurred by tears, his throat rough with pain.
