It wasn't until late at night that Lu Yuan finally realized the place Ye Qingyue wanted to take him was the cemetery where her family rested.
Early the next morning, as the sky took on the soft white of dawn, a thin mist still hung over the cemetery on the outskirts of Tiangong City.
Lu Yuan had risen early and carefully prepared everything for Ye Qingyue. He had gone specially to the most famous flower shop in the city and chosen a large bouquet of white irises and pale lisianthus. The flowers were clean and elegant, carrying a faint, delicate fragrance.
Holding the bouquet, he stood tall and straight. His black coat made his features look even more refined, and every movement carried a quiet steadiness and solemnity.
Ye Qingyue had changed into a simple, light gray dress. Her long hair was tied back plainly, without any extra adornment. The usual cool allure in her eyes had softened into quiet gentleness. She came to Lu Yuan's side, lightly linking her fingers around his arm and resting her head against his shoulder.
"Let's go."
Ye Qingyue spoke softly.
"Mm."
Lu Yuan looked down at her, his eyes full of tenderness. His arm tightened slightly, holding her securely.
The two walked on in silence, and their car slowly entered the cemetery. Trees and grass grew lushly here, the flagstone paths were clean and orderly, and the air carried the faint, fresh scent of plants. It was so quiet that all they could hear was the soft rustle of leaves in the wind.
Ye Qingyue led Lu Yuan onward with easy familiarity, her steps light.
Her long lashes lowered slightly, veiling the subtle emotions in her eyes: longing, tenderness, and the relief of finally being able to entrust her heart to someone.
Soon,