Sorrowful Memories

A familiar scene unfolded before Qiao Wei’s eyes: the once splendid hall was now suffused with a suffocating sorrow. Everyone was clad in solemn black suits, their heads bowed in silence. The only sound in the entire hall was the low, somber voice of the host reading the eulogy.

Qiao Wei’s tears fell in a rush—it was her father’s funeral. The saddest day of her life. In the corner, she saw her mother dressed in white mourning clothes, silently covering her face and weeping. She saw her past self, unmoved as a puppet, neither crying nor smiling, stubbornly refusing to believe that her father was truly gone. It was then she realized that grief, at its extreme, left one unable to cry—her tears had simply run dry.

Qiao Wei struggled to move toward her mother, wanting to wipe away her tears, but she found herself separated by an invisible glass, unable to touch her at all. In her ears, the eulogy’s somber words continued to echo: “Mr. Qiao suffered a tragic car accident. Despite every effort to save him, he sadly passed away at the age of thirty-seven... Throughout his life, Mr. Qiao was diligent and conscientious in his work, devoted and uncomplaining, never concerned with personal gain or loss. To his colleagues, he was upright, sincere, generous, fair, and just. With himself, he was strict, disciplined, earnest, and hardworking, always striving for self-improvement. To his family, he was a sincere and responsible pillar, worthy of trust... I express my deepest condolences at the untimely passing of Mr. Qiao, and offer heartfelt sympathies to his loved ones...”

Qiao Wei squeezed her eyes shut in pain and covered her ears, but the words still seeped through. The eulogy dredged up all the sorrow she had buried deep within her heart, and she found it impossible to control.

"Is this all you’re capable of? Hey, get a hold of yourself." A clear, melodious female voice reached Qiao Wei’s ears. She opened her eyes to find the scene had shifted back to the ancient room. Before her stood a girl almost identical to herself, her amber eyes shining as if they could speak, her delicate, doll-like face marked by a pronounced look of disdain and contempt.

"You’re... Su Mo? Why are you here?" Qiao Wei was surprised; instinctively she knew that this girl, who seemed to dislike her, was Su Mo—the very person Luo Chen could never forget. The thought brought a pang of bitterness to her heart.

Su Mo shot Qiao Wei a sideways glance, her expression haughty. "Descendant of angels, bearer of the supreme power of the pendant, and yet you can be misled by mere illusions? How embarrassing! Hurry up and go find Chen!"

Qiao Wei nodded awkwardly, and Su Mo dissolved into a wisp of smoke that flowed into Qiao Wei’s pendant. Though Qiao Wei found it all a little unbelievable, at the mention of Luo Chen, she hurried out as fast as she could.

============================================================================================

These days, Yu Ning is so tired—writing and attending classes at the same time. Dear readers, Yu Ning wants to take a three-day break and will update again next Monday. I hope you understand. Thank you!

Yu Ning’s collection count just won’t go up. T.T