The servant in black lowered his head, not daring to utter a sound.
“Yes, if we add some apples, pears, oranges, or the like, this tree will be even more beautiful,” Isoro suggested seriously, tilting his head back.
"Ah? Is that so?" Young Master Luo's anger turned to joy, and he smiled gently, happily turning his head to instruct, "Did you hear that? Your idea is excellent, but just having golden sycamore leaves isn't enough. Hang up more fruit for me, hang up everything you can find, that's what makes it truly festive."
At his command, the servant vanished in a flash. In the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, the fruit was hung on the tree branch.
"This is outrageous! Has Sunset Manor turned into a mixed orchard?!"
The arrogant voice, carrying a strong sense of self-centeredness, undoubtedly belonged to Luo Shuiliu.
Wu Shilang and Luo Jinfeng turned their heads at the same time.
It remains a powerful black and white combination.
A stunningly beautiful couple, the woman with a radiant smile and the man with an icy expression.
"Wu Shilang, why is your face getting paler and paler?" Luo Shuiliu was startled the moment her eyes met Wu Shilang's. She reached out to check Wu Shilang's pulse.
Isoro took a step back, put his hands behind his back, and said with a grin, "My skin has always been fair. If you're jealous, just say so. Why be so sour?"
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Luo Shuiliu immediately changed the subject, quite indignant, and, lifting her sleeve and bowing her head, said angrily, "My skin is rare in the world. Let's not even talk about how fair and delicate it is, just look at it..."
Isoro secretly tugged at Luo Jinfeng's sleeve, making a gesture as if to run away. Anyone who could hear that would find it unbearable.
She rolled her eyes, making a face as if she was foaming at the mouth. Leng Wushuang, who was originally keeping a straight face behind Luo Shuiliu, glanced over and saw Wushilang's strange appearance, and couldn't help but raise the corners of her mouth slightly.
Like the first blooming of a forsythia in early spring, it is incredibly beautiful.
It swept away the gloom of recent days.
Wu Shilang's eyes glazed over for a moment, then he quickly turned his head, grabbed Luo Jinfeng, and ran away.
"Stop right there. It's very rude of you to run away without listening to what others have to say."
Luo Shuiliu stomped her foot angrily and turned to Leng Wushuang to complain, "Wushuang, they really went too far."
A frosty look settled over Leng Wushuang's brows and eyes.
His eyes were as still as water; he didn't even glance at her before walking away.
"You, you, you're going to be the death of me!" Luo Shuiliu was extremely angry. She kicked the tree trunk, and the pears hanging on the branches swayed, along with the broken branches, all falling onto her head. Her carefully styled "Crescent Moon" hair bun was smashed into a flat mess.
"I hate pressure!"
She screamed again, startling the white doves that had just been perched on the tree, which then took flight. One plump dove circled a few times before landing steadily on the plain above her head.
With his bottom sticking out, he warmly added a white cosmos flower to her.
Luo Shuiliu completely collapsed, his neck stiffened, and he turned into a stone statue.
"Ahhhh, Little Fifty, why is it you again?" Yuan Yuan, originally a small servant, almost burst into tears when he saw each other standing on the head of the Luo River.
He leaped up with practiced ease, catching the white dove that was still spouting its plumage, bowed deeply to Luo Shuiliu, and then vanished in a flash.
Luo Shuiliu stood frozen for a moment, then finally burst into tears, stamping her feet and saying, "I hate everything called fifty."
Suddenly, a smile appeared in Leng Wushuang's eyes as she walked ahead.
The night was cool and still, and Goruro felt especially cold wrapped in his blanket.
The black line on her wrist had spread out and was rising towards her elbow. The thin, black line, like an ugly black caterpillar, was crawling on her fair and delicate skin, with a hint of ferocity.
"If I don't take the medicine, how many more days will it last?" Wu Shilang sighed, took out a white jade porcelain bottle from his pocket, and held it up to the moonlight streaming in from the window.
"There are still two days left this month. Two days later is Dad's birthday," she muttered to herself, scratching her head and sighing. "I, the unfilial one, have to go back to make up the numbers."
Fifty is one less, so it's not a whole number anymore. I bet Old Man Xiao will feel upset about it.
Ishiro thought for a moment, then jumped out of bed, opened the drawer of the bamboo table by the window, and casually rolled the white jade porcelain bottle inside. Then, she tilted her head and thought for a moment, unfastened the female green sword from her waist, and wiped it again and again with the corner of her sleeve.
"What do you mean by a preordained match?" In the darkness, a sarcastic smile appeared on her lips. Her fingertips slid across the scabbard, reaching the hilt. After a moment of silence, she resolutely put down the Spirit Rhinoceros Sword.
The soft moonlight shone on the cyan sword, causing the cyan female sword to tremble almost imperceptibly.
"Alright, I feel much better now." Isoro clapped her hands, opened the wooden door, took a deep breath, opened her arms, and said with a smile in a low voice, "Goodbye, Musou..." After thinking for a moment, she chuckled softly again, opened her arms once more, took a deep breath, and said in a low voice with a sense of loss, "No, it should be, farewell forever, Gosou!"
After a long while, she slowly lowered her arm and walked towards the path leading out of the village without looking back.
"You're just leaving like that?"
A low, deep voice, tinged with reproach, emerged from the shadows—a figure in pale purple, with hair as black as ink and a face as white as jade, like a solitary orchid blooming at midnight.
“Yes, I hate parting, so I always sneak away.” Igoro replied with a smile, waving his hand back and forth in front of his eyes.
"Farewell, Young Master Luo, I have to rush back. It's my father's birthday," she said with a playful smile. "I don't know how many I'll be able to celebrate with him, so I'll make sure I can celebrate with him as many as I can."
Luo Jinfeng's expression changed, and he said sadly, "Even if you're unwilling to continue the detoxification, what about Leng Wushuang? Don't you have anything to say about her?"
Wu Shilang laughed even more heartily, clapping his hands and pouting, "He found your little aunt, and after a while, he will naturally forget about me. In the beginning, he wanted to find a woman as beautiful as the goddess Luo, and now that his wish has come true, what is there for him to be dissatisfied with?"
Luo Jinfeng's eyes gleamed in the moonlight, appearing even darker and brighter, and he laughed, "And what about me? What explanation do you have for me?"
After a long while, he smiled and said seriously, "Fifty, do you know, I like you!"
Wu Shilang smiled but did not answer. After a moment of silence, he said carefully, "There is a kind of person who is like a friend, but goes beyond a friend. You can be friends with them in life and remember them forever after death. Young Master Luo, you are a great match for me. Let us be friends like that."
We're just friends, nothing romantic!
Luo Jinfeng's brows furrowed with sadness. He gritted his teeth and remained silent. After a moment, he forced a smile and said, "You really intend to leave completely? But a girl can't just travel alone at night. The journey from Jinling to Yangzhou isn't long, but it's not short either. Let me, as your friend, escort you back."
Wu Shilang laughed heartily and nodded, saying, "Then I'll trouble you, Young Master Luo."
His gaze was open and honest, as if he were looking at his own family.
Luo Jinfeng sighed deeply, ultimately unable to suppress the sense of loss that enveloped him.
Everything in this world can be strived for, except for love, which cannot be won or taken away.
Because it was the middle of the night, the cold wind was even more biting. Luo Jinfeng specially ordered a carriage with a cotton curtain to be drawn. Inside the carriage, there was a thick cotton quilt. As soon as Wu Shilang got into the carriage, he happily rolled around.
"There's even a hand warmer." Isoro tucked the bronze hand warmer into his arms. Warmth radiated from the bronze hand warmer, and soon his whole body felt warm.
Luo Jinfeng smiled and said with unparalleled elegance, "Of course, I will prepare anything you want, anything you haven't thought of but need."
His eyes sparkled, radiating brilliance, and were exceptionally gentle.
Isoro coughed lightly, awkwardly closed his eyes, and pretended to rest, hoping to avoid his overly intense and tender gaze.
She wasn't unaware of certain feelings; it was just that one love had already exhausted too much of her capacity, and other loves would only be a burden to her.
The moonlight was even paler, and the night wind, whistling, blew past Leng Wushuang's window.
Tonight, he was very uneasy. He tossed and turned, unable to calm down. He sighed, then sat up and habitually reached for the Lingxi Sword beside his pillow.
Suddenly, my whole body trembled.
Leng Wushuang raised his sword, facing the moonlight. The dark green sword in his hand was trembling, like an extremely sad person covering his mouth and weeping silently.
He frowned slightly, his eyes filled with confusion.
The sword trembled more and more violently, even emitting a buzzing sound.
"Could it be Igoro?" He suddenly realized, and was greatly alarmed. Filled with panic, he didn't even have time to put on his coat before rushing towards Igoro's house.
The room of Wu Shilang was pitch black, and the windows were all tightly closed. Leng Wushuang stood in front of her door, reached out and slowly approached the wooden door. Just as she touched the door panel, she withdrew her hand. She did this several times, and finally hardened her heart, gritted her teeth, and pushed open the half-closed wooden door.
The wooden door creaked open, its sound echoing softly. Moonlight streamed into the room through the open doorway.
"Wu Shilang, I'm coming in." Leng Wushuang hesitated for a moment before slowly walking into the room.
Inside the room, where the moonlight couldn't reach, it was completely dark. Leng Wushuang glanced over and her heart skipped a beat. On Wushilang's bed, the blankets were neatly folded, and there was no sign that anyone had slept there.
His mind went blank.
His eyes darted around the room in a panic, and when they swept over the wooden table in front of the bed, a faint sadness spread through his heart.
The exquisite female sword, with its exquisite design, lay neatly on the table. Beneath it, a folded letter rested.
Suppressing her bad premonition, Leng Wushuang forced herself to calm down, picked up the letter under the sword with her index finger, and slowly opened it. On it, several flamboyant characters were written in a flamboyant style, just like Wushilang's flamboyant personality.
Here's your sword back. I don't like you anymore. Farewell!
The misspelled character stretched out in a long, thin line across the letter, clearly indicating that the writer was in a state of great distress.
Like an invisible hand, it instantly grabbed Leng Wushuang's heart and sucked the thin air from his lungs. He slumped down in the wooden chair in front of the table.
He gripped his undergarment tightly in front of his chest, panting heavily.
His hand rested on the wooden tabletop, his gaze gradually drawn to a black piece peeking out from the drawer. He slowly opened the drawer, and the piece of fabric was all too familiar—it was a strip of cloth from the robe he used to wear, which I don't know when, but I don't know when, had been taken by Goro and had always kept close to his body.
A white jade porcelain bottle rolls back and forth on the fabric.
"Giro, you're such an idiot!" His eyes darkened with intense heartache, and his large hand trembled as he uncorked the bottle. One by one, fragrant pills rolled out.
With each pill he counted, his heart ached more. These were pills he had desperately sought, sacrificing his pride, only to be so carelessly discarded by Isoro.
No more, no less, thirty grains, all lying in his palm.
She would rather endure the excruciating pain of loneliness, as if her flesh were being cut and bones scraped, than touch the pills that Luo Shuiliu had given her.
For a full twenty days, did she endure this pain, watching herself and Luo Shuiliu spend every day together? How cruel that must have been for her!
Leng Wushuang's face was filled with disbelief. One by one, the pills rolled off his fingertips. A sharp pain spread from his heart, causing him to clutch his chest and bend over.
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It hurts so much, it really hurts!
Even the most severe injuries and the most blood loss I've ever suffered have never caused me such pain. It's as if my heart has been ripped apart into dozens of pieces, each piece drained of its blood, and slowly sliced to death.
The pain had exceeded what he could tolerate.
"Ah..." He let out a long howl, and swung his sword down. Wherever the sword energy swept, everything remained the same. In the time it takes to drink half a cup of tea, the once intact cabinets and wooden bed collapsed with a crash.
Leng Wushuang stood blankly in the middle of the room, sword hanging limply. He slowly exhaled, his mind clearing and his composure returning.
"Wu Shilang, this time, it's my turn to find you. I will hold your hand forever, in heaven and on earth."
He gradually regained his usual icy demeanor, stretched out his large hand, channeled his energy to pick up the female green sword on the table, carefully wiped it, inch by inch, stroking it, and then the corners of his mouth slightly raised, sweeping away his usual coldness: "Tell me, how can I take back something that has been given away? This is really reckless."
Besides, this is a blessed marriage ordained by heaven.
"A little over fifty..."
Before the car even stopped at the gate, a group of people rushed out of the mansion. They were all of different heights, weights, and ages, men and women, and they were all crying and shouting louder than the last.