The monk, however, remained expressionless, neither pleased nor saddened, only a hint of pity and unwavering resolve in his eyes.

“Amitabha Buddha, this humble monk has been guarding this place for nearly five years. The souls in the dark Buddhist hall have finally met the people they have been waiting for. Even if this humble monk dies, it is not a pity.”

The Dark Buddhist Hall is of great importance, and the two monks responsible for adding oil were people whom Song Ting had personally investigated and who were absolutely trustworthy.

The old monk's Buddhist name was "Kongwu". His two sons had both served in the military, and they happened to be in the Xuanbei Army of Prince Duan.

The old prince was found guilty of treason, the Xuanbei Army was suppressed, and the supply of food and provisions was severely insufficient. Taking advantage of the situation, foreign tribes invaded the border city, and the 100,000-strong Xuanbei Army was completely wiped out in that battle.

The old monk's two sons, of course, also failed to return.

After that, the old monk shaved his head and became a monk, spending his days and nights with the ancient Buddha.

Song Ting entrusted the affairs of the Dark Buddhist Hall to him only because of his status.

That's why Song Ting couldn't really blame the other party.

And does he really not have even the slightest expectation in his heart?

"I understand." Song Ting blinked slowly and exhaled a long breath.

Song Ting knew exactly where the secret door was located, and without the monk's guidance, he walked there as if he knew the way well.

With a gentle touch of his palm on the base of the Buddha statue, the hidden door opened immediately, and Song Ting caught sight of the vibrant figure.

Chu Huaixu used to love white and didn't wear many brightly colored clothes, but now he always wears red.

It was as red as blood.

Song Ting slowly approached. Chu Huaixu knelt upright, looking completely different from the young nobleman who used to doze off while listening to scriptures.

Over the years, he has grown taller and thinner, and even his wide robes and sleeves cannot hide his gaunt frame.

Especially her two prominent shoulder blades, which made Song Ting feel both heartache and a wicked thought creep into her mind—

He wanted to leave his mark on it.

The chanting continued, and the person kneeling before the Buddha seemed unaware of the movement behind him until Song Ting stood still.

The chanting stopped as well.

The fallen immortal in red slowly turned to the side, lifting his eyelids towards his most devout follower, a mocking smile playing on his lips:

"Your Excellency is truly all-powerful."

Song couldn't figure out what exactly he was mocking with those words, but she didn't care and simply accepted it.

She draped an outer robe over his shoulders.

"It's cool at night, so don't catch a cold."

Chu Huaixu reached out to block, and their fingertips touched. Song Ting took the hand and grasped it. His hand was so cold it was chilling.

“Since you have already become the executioner, why bother lighting any eternal lamps for them?”

Having knelt in the cold, dark Buddhist hall for too long, Chu Huaixu's body was somewhat stiff and numb. When he stood up, his movements were a little clumsy, and his voice was hoarse than usual.

His face showed neither sorrow nor joy, yet every word he uttered felt like hot oil being poured over Song Ting's heart.

“The Prince of Duan’s people have lived a clean and honest life, and have no shame before the king or the people.”

"But he must have done terrible things in his past life, which is why he can't even find peace after death and has to be worshipped by the murderer."

"My lord, can you tell me how you dare to, how have the audacity to, light an eternal lamp for them here in my name?"

"Do you really think you've become someone important, that neither the dead nor the living can do anything to you?"

He knew Song Ting best, and naturally knew how to pierce Song Ting's heart. In just a few words, he pierced the latter's heart completely.

Song Ting's eyes darkened, her peripheral vision sweeping over the few ever-burning lamps.

Chu Huaixu's face was also pale at this moment, but Song Ting's face was even paler than his.

—That same expression again, as if I've hurt you. Even now, you still dare to lie to me.

Chu Huaixu felt even more resentful, and his expression could no longer maintain its composure.

Meeting his venomous gaze, Song Ting said in a hoarse voice, "Because I can't find you... I can't find you anywhere..."

Under the bright yellow candlelight, Song Ting recalled the months that had terrified and devastated him.

At that time, it had been almost half a year since he lost contact with Chu Huaixu, and the year was drawing to a close.

He was nearly stabbed through the heart by Chu Huaixu, suffering serious injuries and becoming immobile.

Moreover, given his position and the numerous eyes watching him, he could no longer leave Chang'an freely, so he had no choice but to send his shadow guards to search for him.

However, due to Huai Xu's special status, he was constantly being watched, so even a search for him couldn't be done openly.

Because he knew all too well that the slightest mistake would lead to total defeat.

The guards returned time and again to report, but each time they brought back disappointing news.

Chu Huaixu's physical condition was not optimistic at the time. In the past six months, he had thought about the possibilities countless times and was often awakened by nightmares at night.

He even wondered if that person was already dead, which was why they had disappeared without a trace.

But if Chu Huaixu is already dead, then why is he still alive?

He had this thought again and again, to the point that he felt desperate, and his body deteriorated day by day.

Just when Song Ting had given up all hope, the news finally arrived.

Several days passed with heavy snowfall, and the snow in the courtyard had piled up to half a person's height. However, Song Ting did not allow the servants to sweep it away, and let the snow pile up higher and higher.

Chu Huaixu liked snow, and seeing such a thick layer of snow should make him happy. He always thought that way.

That day, a heavy snow fell again. Song Ting dreamed of Chu Huaixu that night, which was the only good dream she had in a long time.

In his dream, he and Chu Huaixu were building a snowman and having a snowball fight in a snow-covered courtyard, along with the eldest son Chu Huaiqing and his deputy general Zhou Tong.

Everyone in the dream was laughing happily, especially Chu Huaixu; Song Ting hadn't seen him laugh like that in a long time.

After the eldest son and the others left, Huai Xu pulled him to hide behind a tree trunk. Huai Xu's head was covered in snow, and even his eyelashes were covered in a white sheen.

Song Ting wanted to brush the snowflakes off his head, but Huai Xu wouldn't let her. The pampered young master was affectionate with him, making a vow of eternal love:

"Little Qingxiang, look, this is what it will be like when we're old and gray. My hair will be completely white, won't I look less pretty than I do now?"

Song Ting was captivated by his smile, thinking to herself, "How could that be? This person will always be handsome in my heart, even if he turns white-haired."

He thought this to himself, and murmured the truth aloud: "Young Master will always be the most handsome person in the world..."

No matter how wonderful the dream, the more lost he felt when he woke up and faced reality. After lunch, he had Qi Zhou push his wheelchair and sit under the eaves to watch the snow.

He was completely enveloped in his heavy cloak, pointed to the large banyan tree in the courtyard, and said to Qi Zhou:

“Look there, he used to like to sit under that tree to read and play the zither. Last New Year’s Eve, he even dragged me to build a snowman under the tree.”

“He piled up two, saying one was me and the other was him.”