With an 'ugh', Chu Yang threw up a mouthful of blood. It was followed by another three successive grunts and three more mouthfuls of hot scarlet blood. As the world spun around him, he could vaguely see in front of him a black-clad figure, her robes as black as ink. Slim and graceful, she looked as if she had walked out of a painting, beautiful and striking.
It was Wu Qianqian.
Wu Qianqian simply stood so prettily in front of him, her aggrieved and longing eyes gazing at him. She seemed like she wanted to reach out and touch his face but couldn't; as if she wanted to dive into his arms yet she was going further and further away.
"Chu Yang, I'm going… You must be happy…"
In the dimness, he seemed to hear Wu Qianqian's indistinct voice and a sense of wholehearted blessings that contained power of the soul…
Chu Yang threw up yet another mouthful of blood. His heart ached like death, lost in the vast world.