Xu Zhuohua stopped in her tracks, and Cheng Muyun also stopped.
The moonlight cast long shadows of the two people, overlapping on the ground.
They stood there in the moonlight, trying to make out each other's expressions in the hazy night, hoping to find some support in each other's eyes.
“Cheng Muyun, don’t say sorry.” Xu Zhuohua’s voice was soft, but it carried a comforting power. “I understand you. We have always been of one mind. I will never blame you.”
These words were like a key, instantly unlocking Cheng Muyun's long-tightened defenses.
His eyes instantly reddened, and the fatigue, fear, and helplessness that had been building up for so long burst forth under Xu Zhuohua's gentle gaze.
This man, who had never retreated even a single step on the battlefield, now resembled a lost child.
"I'm sorry, Zhuohua, I'm so tired." His voice was choked with sobs. "Ever since I knew I would encounter such a hurdle, I've thought more than once that I might as well just die and end it all. I'm sorry, I was too selfish. I never really considered your feelings, nor did I take into account the expectations of my brothers."
Cheng Muyun is a native of this era. He has read books, but he has not received any higher education.
All his skills came from the battlefield, from the experience of leading troops and fighting that he gained at the cost of his life. Most of his principles of conduct and interpersonal relationships were taught to him by Madam Cheng and Cheng Yuguang.
Therefore, his vision is destined to only see the storms before his eyes, unable to penetrate decades of time and see what the future holds.
He watched helplessly as the world before him grew corrupt and decayed, like a piece of wood rotten to the core, yet he couldn't think of any way to cure it.
In days without hope, every step feels like walking on cotton, so unsettling that it makes you anxious.
He was always afraid.
Xu Zhuohua once said that the real dawn is still a long, long way off; it's only just nightfall now.
He feared he wouldn't be able to endure the long, dark night, that he wouldn't be able to stand firm in the surging tide of history, and even more so, that he wouldn't be able to protect the person beside him whom he cherished as his own life.
Therefore, he would rather do everything in his power to protect Xu Zhuohua than risk changing his own fate—he feared that his small action would be like a pebble thrown into a lake, creating ripples that would ultimately affect those crucial historical moments.
It was only then that Xu Zhuohua belatedly realized that her momentary soft-heartedness in telling the truth of history to this person who had not truly experienced that period of time might have been a mistake from the very beginning.
What she considered merely cold, hard records of the past, long since settled, were, for Cheng Muyun, a reality that was gradually approaching, a terrifying prophecy that he was about to personally verify.
Even if he has the strongest will, he will inevitably lose his spirit when he sees the gears of fate grinding down on him along their predetermined path.
"It's my fault, I'm sorry, Cheng Muyun." Xu Zhuohua reached out and gently hugged him. "I shouldn't have told you this, I shouldn't have let you suffer like this."
The tall man trembled slightly in her arms, hot tears rolling down his reddened eyes, filled with unspeakable grievances and heartache.
How difficult it is to break a man's strength, especially a man like Cheng Muyun who always stands tall in front of others.
But sometimes, it's so simple—all you need is Xu Zhuohua.
Xu Zhuohua tightened her arms, silently thinking: if she could do it all over again, she would rather bear all the secrets and fears alone than tell him these cruel truths again.
"I'm sorry, Cheng Muyun, I shouldn't have told you."
Cheng Muyun tightened his arms and hugged Xu Zhuohua's shoulders. "No, whether you say it or not, I will have come to this point. This has already happened, and none of us can change it."
Xu Zhuohua shook her head violently. "No, it can be changed. I know it can definitely be changed."
Cheng Muyun said, "Zhuohua, I really want to live a quiet life with you under one roof, but as you can see, in this situation, without everyone else, how can we have a home? Even if we run away, we won't have a stable life."
"I know, I know!" Xu Zhuohua's tears suddenly fell.
It happened precisely at the end of the Qing Dynasty and the beginning of the Republic of China, at this very moment, the darkest time in China's five thousand years of history.
The torrent of time has swept everyone in; who can escape it?
In this situation, being alive is already a great merit from a past life; why ask for a peaceful life?
"Cheng Muyun, let's hang in there, okay? Believe me, dawn will really come."
Cheng Muyun looked at Xu Zhuohua with a smile in his eyes, "The darkest hour is before dawn. Will we be invaded?"
"Yes, but many people will step forward to save this country."
The light in Cheng Muyun's eyes dimmed considerably. "But I was already dead then, wasn't I? So it doesn't matter whether I'm here or not, dawn will surely come, won't it?"
Xu Zhuohua's tears suddenly burst forth, "No! I can't live without you, Cheng Muyun, I won't allow you to die."
"I don't want to die either, Zhuohua. I will try my best to live."
"But by giving the Dongzhou Army to Xiao Wuxin, weren't you preparing for certain death?"
“No,” Cheng Muyun said with a smile, “I was thinking that after resolving this matter, I could find a good way out for the brothers of the Dongzhou Army. Wouldn’t it be best for them to follow Xiao Wuxin?”
"What will you do without the Dongzhou Army?"
Cheng Muyun chuckled softly, his voice as clear as the moon parting the clouds. “Respect history. Cheng Muyun is dead, and Xu Zhuohua is dead. What lives on is not the young marshal and his wife, but an ordinary, loving couple.”
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