His steps were steady, his figure tall and straight.
Why did he feel that Jiang Muwan wouldn't come down the mountain?
Simply because she was walking a path he had once walked himself.
His state of mind back then was the same as Jiang Muwan's at this moment.
In the night sky, a crescent moon hung on the edge of the horizon, harmonious yet disharmonious amidst the forest and riverbank. It conjured an image of the cool moon like brows over Willow Bay; the mountains of Yue seen within a mirror.
The man, dressed in a black coat, climbed the stairs. If it weren't for the warm yellow streetlights, perhaps no one could see him.
When Gu Jiangnian reached the mountain's peak, he saw Jiang Muwan standing on the edge, facing the river of lights, her silhouette slender, embodying solitude and desolation.
Like a figure in a mirage, she seemed as though she might disappear with just a blink.
