The Lord You Buried Beneath the Springs Has Turned to Dust, While I Send My Regards from This World Beneath a Snow-Laden Head

Heavenly Ruins, Moon Palace Side Hall.

The osmanthus grove that had once shimmered with gold and rained flowers like a waterfall now held nothing but intertwined, gnarled dead branches, utterly devoid of life.

The palace remained intact, yet it seemed veiled beneath a thick layer of dust. Not the slightest trace of moonlight flowed through it anymore.

The entire side hall and the entire flower grove looked like a faded old photograph, heavy with the stench of death.

In this silent world, the soft couch still sat in its original place.

A figure in a Black and Yellow Emperor Robe lay on his side beneath the dead branches, lying on his side atop the soft couch.

Rustle.

Gu Jinzhi did not know how many times he had unfolded the silk cloth in his hand.

Looking at the dog-scratch-like characters upon it, the corners of his mouth beneath the mask struggled to pull into a stiff curve.

"I was too sleepy. I didn't mean to stand you up. I'll come tonight—I'll definitely be there on time!"

He extended his fingertip and, with extreme gentleness, traced those characters stroke by stroke, starting with the word "I" and ending with the final exclamation mark.

He had repeated this action countless times already.

After three to five minutes, he carefully folded the silk cloth again, solemnly put it away, and held it tightly against his chest, pressed over his heart.

Facing the empty flower grove, he murmured in a voice only he could hear.

"Okay... I'll wait for you."

Tap... tap... tap...

After a long while, footsteps suddenly rang out at the end of the jade-paved path through the flower grove, approaching from far away.

Gu Jinzhi remained leaning against the soft couch, unmoved.

Before long, Min Zimo arrived before him.