As the man approached and saw the woman's face clearly, his tall figure collapsed to the ground.
He knelt beside the cold jade bed, his eyes beneath the mask bloodshot, filled with a mixture of hatred and pain.
He reached out and pressed his hand against Yun Chuwei's face, then gradually moved down to her neck, finally grabbing her clothes, pulling her up, and pressing her hard into his arms.
"Yun Chuwei, are you really dead?"
"Yun Chuwei, I haven't even killed you to avenge myself yet, how can you die? How could you die?"
In his hoarse voice, hatred and resentment seemed to materialize.
Yun Chuwei didn't know who this man wearing the Yama mask was, and she didn't understand why he hated her so much.
But she felt that since she was dead and her life was over, the grudges should also dissipate.
When she saw the man about to draw his sword and commit suicide, chasing after her to the death, she was completely stunned.
"Is it possible that if I die, your revenge will be complete? You don't need to do this, do you?"
Yun Chuwei tried to offer a word of advice.
Clearly, no one could hear the voice of a wandering spirit.
She tried to reach out and grab the sword blade in his hand.
However, her hand was pierced by the blade and vanished in the cold.
The man swung his longsword, blood splattering and mixing with the crimson wedding dress before finally settling on the cold jade bed.
Blood stained the jade bed with strange patterns.
As he lay dying, the man's head drooped inside his wedding dress, and he murmured, "Yun Chuwei... I too... I too..."
Yun Chuwei wanted to hear what the man was saying, but her consciousness was rapidly fading away.
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