I looked up at him, and a tear fell straight down his cheek, as if it had never existed.
He wept; a dignified man, a monarch, shed tears.
"She's just a mortal." I said forcefully. Liao Yan is just a mortal, a mortal without a soul, a mortal who wasn't carefully crafted. Ji Mo Dongli was someone Dong Jun created with all his might, someone who shares a life with him. It's not worth it for her.
He reached down and brushed away the tear that had fallen on her face, a smile playing on his lips: "That's good, that's good."
"What do you intend to do with her?"
He suddenly flashed a bright, heartbreaking smile: "I won't let her be buried underground; she should be in the sunlight."
I dared not linger any longer, and turned to leave resolutely. I was afraid I would lose control and tell him everything. I would tell him that guarding that corpse was useless, that no matter how many times he pleaded and prayed, it was useless. It was just a corpse, a remnant, and no matter what he did, it would not reach Liao Yan's heart. Even in death, he would not see Liao Yan's figure in the afterlife.
I used to be Liao Yan, but I am no longer.
I looked at the gradually descending starry sky and slumped down.
Dongjun, give me an answer. Is Jimo Dongli you? Does he share even a trace of your thoughts?
On either side of the Milky Way, the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl still gaze at each other from afar.
I once watched their story unfold before my very eyes. At that time, Dongjun had been by my side for many years. Countless nights, he used the fading aroma of tea to depict the image of the two of them together. We thought that they could really stay together until old age, or at least until he grew old.
However, it ultimately ended in tragedy, leaving people with a sense of regret.
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