A tall, slender figure appeared before the mourning hall.
Lu Ying stood with his hands behind his back, gazing at the delicate, thin woman kneeling upon the ground.
After a moment, he raised his hand, signaling the maids serving inside the mourning hall to withdraw.
He looked at Shen Yinning's swollen, tear-stained phoenix eyes, and spoke softly: "You have shed tears for him."
The night wind swept in, stirring the white funeral banners so they shivered and fluttered.
Shen Yinning braced one hand against the pitch-black coffin, her face half-turned down: "Even now...I still refuse to believe he is truly gone."
Lu Ying stepped forward slowly, entering.
He knelt beside Shen Yinning on one knee and reached out, gently caressing the rim of her reddened eyes: "He accompanied you through three years in Gan State. I know the deep bond you share from enduring hardships together—no one else can compare. But that person is gone now, and all Zhaozhao can do is accept it."
