By the time Liu Mang and Hua Rui separated, it had been quite a while.
The tears that Hua Rui shed had long ceased, she was now looking carefully at the embroidered pouch, growing fonder of it the more she looked, "I don't know why, but I just really like this pouch, and it feels so familiar, as if every stitch and thread were embroidered by me. Where did you get this pouch from, Liu Mang? I love it so much."
Liu Mang said, "Where it came from isn't important, what matters is that you like it."
Liu Mang tactfully avoided mentioning anything about past lives or the events that took place in the underground cave of Wanlong Mountain.
Liu Mang didn't know if what had happened beneath Wanlong Mountain was real or merely an illusion.
No matter what, it was all in the past; the King of Zhennan was gone, and everything had disappeared with the wind.
Some things are better left in the past. Knowing them himself was enough; there was no need to tell Hua Rui and make her overthink.
