The emperor wanted to say something, but his lips were so dry that he couldn't open his mouth.
Just stared at her in a daze.
I stared at it, and didn't dare to blink.
A strange intuition: it seems like this is a true separation of life and death.
It's like attending a funeral.
But, whose funeral is this?
Is it his?
Hers?
Or, is it their shared funeral?
He doesn't know.
Breathing becomes so difficult.
"His Majesty……"
"Your Majesty, I've said goodbye..."
It was Yejia, and he said goodbye to him.
Because the carriage started.
He got on the horse, too.
From then on, leave this palace.
Tuoba Hong didn't hear it.
No answer either.
Don't even know how to answer.
"Your Majesty... say goodbye!"
Ye Jia repeated and chased after him.
At that time, the carriage door was closed.
With a bang.
The last time Tuoba Hong saw Miaolian's face - dismal, pale, bloodless or angry.
It's like a puppet.
Since then, this impression has been so imprinted.
When his blurry eyes were about to look at him, it was gone—it was completely gone.
The iron carriage surrounded her.
Just like a shadow that is about to disappear.
Wheel wheels.
The sound of horse hooves.
Even Yejia is about to disappear.
He chased after him and shouted loudly: "Yejia...Yejia...you must take good care of her...heal her...he must cure her..."
"Your Majesty, I will do my best."
…………
The dialogue is so pale.
Just like his throat, rolling.
A intense and pale emotion.
It's like breaking my past and past.
Heart-wrenching.
When the father died and when the mother died... he never felt so uncomfortable.
That is the death of parents, far from comparable to that of a lover. The disconnection of a lover and the self-harm of a lover are like the complete breakdown of a relationship.