Chapter 1100: My Solitary Love Dream (2)

Chapter 1100: Chapter 1100: My Solitary Love Dream (2)

The only difference was that back then, he still had a waterfall-like ink-black hair.

At this moment, suddenly remembering, the scene became even clearer.

It was a deep night; she returned home late due to playfulness, so she sneaked through the back door. Just outside their back door in that secluded alley, under the shallow moonlight, a man as beautiful as a demon in a painting approached.

Perhaps because the man was too good-looking, little Xiaoqi stared blankly, deliberately stealing a few more glances at him, or perhaps that night he seemed too despondent and in pain, so when Xiaoqi looked at him, he met her gaze.

In that single glance, Xiaoqi saw heart-wrenching despair and pain in his eyes.

His eyes were telling a story, why, why did you still abandon me? I could give up everything for you, how could you, how could you still marry someone else.

A Jing, why.

After that glance, he staggered away alone, and little Xiaoqi tilted her head, watching his lonely and desolate figure under the moonlight, not quite understanding why he was so despairing and in pain.

And the person he loved, that person named A Jing, why did they marry someone else?

Back then Xiaoqi was young, just a little girl of five or six, so while the sadness in that man’s eyes left an incredibly deep impression on her, she quickly forgot all about it.

She told no one about this; she thought she had merely encountered a disappointed passerby.

Until this moment.

Xiaoqi felt suffocated as she watched the man step down the White Jade Steps one by one, holding the hand of Shui Jingmo amidst the crowd, who, affected by Puppet Grass, was completely unaware, and gently and affectionately called out,

"A Jing."

His voice was soft and pleasant; just those two words spoken from his lips seemed filled with all the joy and affection in the world, making one’s heart tremble.

He held the expressionless Shui Jingmo’s hand, stepping up the staircase, his soft voice gently resonated again,

"A Jing, the auspicious hour has arrived."

In the vast, quiet square, his soft voice was remarkably clear and melodious.

Xiaoqi stood beside Su Xingqiao, fingers tightly clutching his sleeve, as everyone gazed woodenly at the pair on the stairs. Shui Jingmo dressed in a white robe painted with ink landscapes, alongside the man in red, shoulder to shoulder, seemed extraordinarily fitting and perfect, simply... mesmerizing.

One red, one white attire, one ink, one silver strand of hair, such stark contrasts, beneath breathtaking beauty, held an intensely glaring sense of sadness.

Xiaoqi now felt cold all over, her blood seemed to freeze at this moment.

She seemed... almost... was, understanding something.

A Jing... was Shui Jingmo, her uncle, ... her aunt Feng Peining’s husband.

Xiaoqi frantically turned to look at Feng Peining, who stood at the forefront of the crowd in a light purple gown, with her back to Xiaoqi, so Xiaoqi couldn’t see anything. She couldn’t imagine if her aunt hadn’t been poisoned, then at this moment, watching such a scene, what feelings she would have.

It was at that moment, the red-clad man nearly upon the high platform, suddenly turned around, looking towards the crowd—