Xing Luoye still knelt in front of the empty grave. His forehead rested lightly against the cold stone. His breathing gradually became steady again, but his eyes were still red.
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then he slowly sat back, his back leaning against the base of the grave.
"…Father," he murmured.
His voice was no longer full of rage. It sounded tired… almost lost.
"There's something I want to ask you."
He looked at the grave, as if expecting an answer.
"It's about that female… Yue Yue." He frowned slightly.
"She came from the empire. Just like her." His hands tightened into fists on his knees.
"But… she doesn't feel the same."
He closed his eyes, remembering the way she smiled at the old caretaker, the way she looked at the city with shining eyes, and how she cooked in the kitchen like it was the most normal thing in the world.
"She looks simple. Too simple for someone from the empire," he muttered. "No schemes in her eyes. No arrogance and coldness at all."
