As dusk approached, the evening glow reflected in the sky, tinged with a golden halo.
The sun's shadow slanted as the crows cawed in unison.
Wei Zhao let her sit on his lap, gently stroking the girl's back with his palm.
Yu Tingwan buried her head in Wei Zhao's chest. Through the fabric, she could still hear his familiar and steady heartbeat. It was as if it allowed her a momentary relief from the overwhelming turmoil that nearly suffocated her.
Not daring to close her eyes, for when she did, all she saw was a sky full of fire.
The flames seemed capable of devouring everything, then drowning her.
"I should have died that year."
Her voice was low and hoarse.
It carried an obvious vulnerability, no longer the calm composure she displayed before others.
"If my father had saved my mother first at that time, and it was me who had the accident, they would have lived on in this world, going through life together until old age in tranquility. Just... just as if I hadn't appeared."
