When she returned at this time, the courtyard was full of traces of the past. How could she not be reminded of the people she had met?
Chen Hede sighed heavily, the restlessness in his eyes fading slightly, replaced by a complex sense of melancholy.
“Let’s go,” he turned around, a hint of weariness in his voice, “I’ll take you there.”
Hu Moli is buried in the cemetery built by the French outside the city.
A large lawn is surrounded by red brick walls, and the tombstones are all made of pure white marble, carved with intricate patterns. They are grand and luxurious, which is quite different from Hu Moli's stubbornness. It is probably a final resting place that she herself could never have imagined.
In front of her tombstone, a photograph is carefully sealed with a piece of transparent glass.
That was a photo Chen Hede had specially chosen—the image of Hu Moli singing on stage, her eyebrows raised, a smile playing on her lips. It was her most triumphant performance, and also the most vivid and radiant image of her in his memory.
The moonlight is perfect tonight, and its gentle glow shines on the photograph, making that frozen smile even more vivid, and one can still vaguely see a bit of her charm and allure from back then.
Xinghua took out a bunch of jasmine flowers wrapped in kraft paper from her bosom and gently placed them in front of the tombstone.
The white petals, glistening with night dew, exuded a faint fragrance.
She crouched down, gazing at Hu Moli's bright smiling face in the photo, her eyes slowly reddening, and she remained silent for a long time.
Hu Moli was named this because she loves the pure jasmine flower.
But people often compare her to a wild rose or a red rose.
They never associated Hu Moli with purity, just as when people learned that Hu Moli was addicted to opium, no one refuted it; they all turned the tables on her.
Holding back her tears, Xinghua said, "Sister Jasmine, it's me, Xinghua. I've come to see you."
Chen Hede turned his head away. He would often come here to pay his respects to Hu Moli, bringing different flowers each time.
However, the efforts made now seem somewhat insignificant.
"Sister Jasmine, my young lady is safe and sound, don't worry. Although her voice hasn't fully recovered, she's not injured anywhere else and is doing just fine. Are you relieved now?"
As Chen Hede listened, a question arose in his mind, "Xinghua, do you mean that Hu Moli has feelings for Xu Zhuohua..."
Xinghua wiped away her tears and nodded. "Sister Jasmine is very grateful to Miss. She said that Miss's words woke her up and made her pull back from the brink, preventing her from getting involved with drugs. That's why Sister Jasmine likes Miss very much. Sister Jasmine will definitely do everything she can to save Miss."
Chen Hede felt as if his heart had been trampled by iron hooves.
Only then did he understand why Xu Zhuohua vomited blood when he learned the cause of Hu Moli's death.
It turns out there was this connection between them.
I was such a bastard, throwing the dirtiest and most filthy water at Hu Moli.
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