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Qingya pushed open the door to the study without hesitation. Xiyue was carefully tucking away a blood-stained handkerchief into his sleeve. Upon seeing Qingya enter, he looked at her with darkened eyes, a frown creasing his brow as a complex emotion flickered in his gaze.
"Why did you do this?" As Qingya spoke, she felt her body tremble slightly. She feared that Xiyue's heart-wrenching answer would cause her to collapse, her eyes filled with terror and sorrow.
"There is no reason; I know what I am doing." He understood that Qingya had come for the imperial decree. His gaze swept over her without offering any defense. The moment he saw her tears, his heart felt as if it were breaking, his hands clenched into tight fists, nails digging into his palms.
Xiyue fought against the urge to pull her into his embrace, steeling himself as he turned away, refusing to look at her sorrowful expression, tears glistening in his eyes.
"Why? Why do you have to hurt me when I truly love you?" The moment Qingya's desperate voice reached him, Xiyue's body jolted, trembling slightly.
Since he had turned his back to her, she could not see the tears streaming down his face, nor could she see that he had bitten his lip until it bled.
"If I had never met you that day, perhaps my heart would not be shattered like this."
Qingya pulled the white jade hairpin shaped like a longevity character from her hair and threw it forcefully to the ground. The sound of the pin shattering echoed painfully in the silent study. After uttering those words in despair, she turned and stumbled out of the room, tears blurring her vision.
Unbeknownst to her, the moment she left, Xiyue could no longer hold back and spat out another mouthful of blood.
With tear-filled eyes, he watched her trembling figure retreating. He stepped forward to pick up the broken hairpin, gripping it tightly in his hand as he softly murmured, "Qingya, you are the one I never wished to hurt in this world."
Qingya left with lingering memories and a thread of resentment, resolutely walking away.
She did not know that on the day she departed, he stood atop the city wall in his white robe, slender and pale. A gentle breeze lifted his unbound black hair as he quietly watched her figure grow distant, his eyes filled with reluctance and pain.
In a moment of violent coughing, a wave of metallic sweetness surged from his throat, staining Jin Bai's garments with a crimson mark as vivid as the Netherworld Spider Lily. His body swayed precariously before he finally collapsed to the ground.
Inside the imperial study, the ministers knelt in silence. Xiyue sat weakly at the desk, picking up a brush and writing on a silk cloth, each stroke draining him of his remaining strength.
But ultimately, at the moment he wrote the words "we will never meet again," he spat out a mouthful of blood and fell onto the desk.
The last tear trickled from the corner of his eye, dripping onto the silk cloth.
At that moment, the Ministers mournfully called out "Your Majesty!"
It was not until half a month later that his personal maid, Dongmei, brought news that enlightened Qingya completely.
Why had Xiyue ruthlessly expelled her from the palace and stripped her of her title? Xiyue had passed away, and all of his consorts who had not been favored during his lifetime would be buried alongside him.
He loved Qingya so deeply; how could he allow her to be buried with him? And he had taken away Ling Jiarong, whom Qingya despised the most!
That day, Qingya only remembered crying heart-wrenchingly, collapsing to the ground.
Xiyue! She hadn’t even seen him one last time!
On that day, the plum blossoms bloomed brilliantly.
Qingya unfolded the silk cloth stained with Xiyue's blood; his visage seemed to appear right before her eyes.
He said, "Qingya, I regret that during the time we spent together, all I ever saw were your tears. Forgive me for ultimately letting you leave in tears. I do not wish to see you cry for my departure; the Qingya of Xiyue should forever wear a smile that captivates the world."
"That day, when I heard you say that you truly loved me, I suddenly became so afraid of leaving, so afraid that in the moment I closed my eyes, I would never see you again. And this time of parting would mean we would never meet again..."
The words were interrupted by bloodstains, and Qingya knew that they were written by Xiyue with the last bit of strength he had.
As he reached that point marked by blood, his life also came to an end.
In the moment Qingya shed tears, a gentle breeze swept through the plum grove, lifting a flurry of withered petals.
She understood that this was Xiyue's final gift to her—a last snowfall of flowers, carrying a beautiful yet bitter love that fell into the dust without regret. She wept silently, pressing her silk handkerchief tightly against her chest.
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