When she realized who he might be, Su Muyao's face changed drastically.
All the sounds around her, and everyone, seemed to be automatically blocked out by her.
She had traveled through many places and so much time had passed, yet she hadn't found Mei Qingchen, nor any clues about him.
The longing in her heart had turned into the softest yet most untouchable scab deep inside her.
She thought she had long become accustomed to this emptiness, but she hadn't expected that a silhouette resembling his could instantly shatter her forced calm.
Now, he was wearing a black cloak, the edges embroidered with dark patterns. When the wind blew, they lifted slightly, revealing his tall and solitary outline.
Su Muyao walked quickly toward that side; the closer she got, the stronger the sense of familiarity, her heart pounding harder and faster as if it would burst out of her chest.
