Within the dim, silent guest room, all the mournful wails of white funeral banners and the flickering sparks of burning paper money outside were shut away.
The room was utterly still. Only the lingering light filtered through the window lattice and fell faintly upon the warm, old objects on the bed, illuminating memories that filled the sheets, every one of them steeped in sorrow.
The Ten-Thousand-Year Head Soul Bone was clear and translucent, preserving the departed one's earliest affection; the close-fitting ice sword concealed its coldness, hiding the gentle gift from their youthful leisure; the octagonal jade pendant engraved with the character "Xue" rested quietly in her palm, its patterns carved deep into her bones, leaving marks through every passing year.
Every one of these items bore the purest, most vivid memories she shared with Xue Mingqing, linking together those irreplaceable days and nights spent side by side.
For a long time, Ning Yurong had wrapped herself in indifference and frostiness. She never revealed her emotions, nor let joy or sorrow show on her face, as though nothing in this world could shake her heart in the slightest.
Even when she had witnessed Xue Mingqing's mutilated body, separated head from body; even when she suffered the crushing blow of eternal separation between the living and the dead; even when her companions misunderstood her as cold and heartless, she had still kept her mind taut and refused to show even a trace of weakness.
But now, sitting alone in an unlit room and facing a bed full of memories, the hard mask around her frozen heart, firm as stone, finally began to crack.
For the first time, ripples appeared across that peerlessly beautiful little face, usually as still as an ancient well and as cold and distant as untouched snow.
There