At this point, a smile appeared on old Wang Feng's face again, like a lover about to keep a rendezvous. He struggled to his feet, took the portrait into his arms, and held it tightly, tenderly. The lamp tipped over, spilling oil over him, and the flame leaped up with it, soon engulfing his entire body.
With a happy smile on his face, Wang Feng felt no pain at all. He merely held Caiwei's portrait tighter, as though, in that moment, he had already reunited with his wife. The tongues of flame swallowed the portrait too, burning it to ashes in Wang Feng's arms.
Suddenly realizing that a fire had broken out behind him, Mu Bai darted over and kicked the door open. Wang Feng had already become a human torch and had fallen quietly to the floor.
"Brother Wang!"
On the verge of death, Wang Feng heard Mu Bai's shout and opened his eyes. Through the flames enveloping him, he saw Mu Bai, smiled, and murmured, "So this wasn't a dream..."
Then he closed his eyes again.
Mu Bai raised a hand and sent a surge of water crashing out. The flames were extinguished, but Wang Feng was already dead.
"Brother Wang..."
Scenes from their days in Ximu City welled up in Mu Bai's heart: setting up stalls together to sell goods on the street, facing the commercial challenges of the Dharma Lotus Trading Company and the Taiyuan Merchant Guild together, watching him live happily with Caiwei...
"Tell Miss Caiwei I'm sorry."
Mu Lan Pavilion belonged not only to him, but also to Mu Lan and everyone in the pavilion. Many had poured their life's blood into Mu Lan Pavilion and regarded it as more important than their own lives. Having handed Mu Lan Pavilion over without discussing it