Qin Qianluo sat leisurely inside her magnificent ceremonial guard, which was exquisitely decorated and surrounded by soft brocade curtains that swayed gently in the breeze.

Her graceful figure was like a serene painting of beauty.

Holding the book in her hands, the paper exuding a faint scent of ink, she was completely absorbed in the world of words, as if she were completely isolated from the noise of the outside world.

Sometimes she frowned slightly, sometimes she nodded gently, completely absorbed in the contents of the book.

Yao Guang sat obediently beside her, her eyes focused and gentle.

Her movements were gentle and skillful, as if she were handling rare treasures, as she carefully placed the delicate tea snacks on the small table.

Each pastry is exquisitely crafted, with various shapes, some resembling blooming flowers and others like lively little animals.

The patterns on them are clear and delicate, like exquisite works of art.

Just as Qin Qianluo was completely absorbed in watching, a sudden commotion arose outside the ceremonial procession.

First came the faint sound of crying, like a wisp of smoke drifting slowly in the air.

Then came the low, heavy sound of a funeral procession, a sound that seemed to carry endless sorrow, striking one's heart again and again.

The sound broke the silence, and Qin Qianluo was slightly startled, snapping out of her reverie from the world of the book.

She frowned slightly, then raised her hand to signal the procession to stop, and said softly, "Let the funeral procession pass first, so as not to cause any collisions."

After saying that, she put the book aside, intending to continue reading after the funeral procession had passed.

However, just then, a child's heart-wrenching cries rang out.

The cry was sharp and mournful, like a lightning bolt streaking across the night sky, instantly piercing Qin Qianluo's heart.

A sudden pang of pain shot through her heart, as if gripped tightly by an invisible hand. The sorrow and helplessness contained in those cries moved her deeply.

Yao Guang had been silently observing her master's expression and immediately noticed something was wrong.

She glanced at Qin Qianluo, then carefully reached out and gently lifted the car window curtain.

Looking out the car window, Qin Qianluo saw the funeral procession moving slowly forward, the atmosphere oppressive and heavy.

In the group, a little girl who looked about five or six years old was crying her heart out.

Her little face turned bright red, like a ripe apple, and large tears rolled down her cheeks like beads from a broken string.

Her small body trembled violently with her cries, like a helpless leaf swaying in a storm, on the verge of fainting from overwhelming grief.

She gripped the corner of the coffin tightly, repeatedly calling out, "Mother, Mother..."

The voice carried endless longing and reluctance, breaking one's heart.

Upon seeing this, Qin Qianluo frowned slightly, her eyes filled with concern and doubt, and her gaze revealed deep pity.

She asked softly, "Rainbow Dash, what happened?"

Upon hearing Qin Qianluo's question, Feng Qingyun looked at the faintly glowing screen in the space and glanced at the information.

After a moment, she finally raised her head, a faint trace of regret on her face.

He said earnestly, "Luo Bao, the deceased was a woman, the mother of the little girl who was crying."

She experienced extremely dangerous postpartum hemorrhage during childbirth.

At the time, the midwife and the doctor did everything they could to save her, but all their efforts were in vain. She ultimately succumbed to her injuries, resulting in the deaths of both herself and her unborn child—a truly heartbreaking tragedy.

She sighed softly, paused for a moment, as if organizing her thoughts or calming her emotions.

Then she continued, "This little girl is the youngest child in the family; she has three older brothers."

These are the three boys who are standing beside her right now, at a loss but trying their best to comfort her.

The woman's husband was an honest, simple man who worked diligently and devoted himself entirely to his family.

The family had always longed for a daughter, and planned to stop having children once they had one, focusing on raising their children to adulthood.

But fate played a cruel trick on her; another unexpected event occurred, and the woman became pregnant again.

She was kind-hearted and couldn't bear to give up the unborn child, so she gritted her teeth and decided to give birth to the baby.

Unfortunately, she was older, and her physical functions were not as strong as they were when she was younger. In addition, she suffered a great shock before giving birth.

A combination of unfavorable factors led to this heartbreaking tragedy.

Qin Qianlu frowned. Through the crack in the car window, she could see that the little girl was crying so hard that she was limp and weak, her small body swaying precariously in the funeral procession.

One of her brothers, looking distressed, quickly stopped and knelt down beside the little girl.

She gently coaxed her in the softest voice, "Don't cry, little sister, don't cry."

Mother...she went to a very far place, but she must want to see my little sister happy.

The voice trembled slightly, filled with sadness and helplessness, yet it was an attempt to comfort the younger sister.

Despite the grief-stricken expressions and tear-streaked faces of the family members around her, not one of them showed the slightest impatience with the little girl's crying.

Her other two brothers would occasionally cast concerned glances at her, their eyes filled with tenderness.

Although the elders walked heavily, immersed in immense grief, their eyes were filled with boundless love when they looked at the little girl.

This scene made Qin Qianluo feel as if an invisible hand was gripping her heart tightly, and a feeling of tenderness welled up within her.

After a moment's thought, she reached out and gently lifted the hem of her dress, gracefully and slowly stepping down from the ceremonial guard.

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