Prologue

The people who came to the funeral during the day have all dispersed, and as time has passed into the early hours of the morning, there is an unsettling sense of lurking danger all around. She wore a black, high-slit, form-fitting long dress, with a neckline that was somewhat low, her slender neck glistening with a pearly sheen in the moonlight. From a distance, the woman's figure appeared emaciated, and as she tilted her head to gaze into the distance, her elongated collarbone evoked a desire for destruction in others.

Embracing each other, their chests rising and falling, their heartbeats gradually calming like the receding tide of the sea. Liang Jinge gently stroked her still-sweaty back; it was only at such moments that she was gentle and soft, willing to quietly lean against him. This feeling he could not let her know, for fear that even these brief minutes of tenderness would cease to exist.

What are you doing?" Chen Danghao tidied up the skirt, his face still flushed, and reached out to him: "Give it to me.

Tonight, the moon is bright and the stars are few, illuminating the beauty's languid expression. She leans against the already closed door, lowering her head to light a cigarette for herself. After turning a few corners, one can see the night watchman ahead, bored and idly counting the stars.

Chen Danghao's gaze momentarily froze, and in half a second of daze, she suddenly broke into a smile, her jade-like hand gently touching his neck: "What are you talking about, life and death? I don't want to die, and you shouldn't speak carelessly either"

It was only when Chen Danghao exposed her arms that she became aware of it; the word "piercing" flashed fleetingly in her mind, something she seemed to have never noticed during these times before

He did not speak, silently holding her tightly, as if he wanted to merge into her bones.

Time accumulates continuously, yet it flows by swiftly in the sense of feeling

I will accompany you in death. Liang Jinge heard his own hoarse voice

He put the cigarette in his mouth, not responding to her words

The wind in the early morning blows with a certain chill

What should we do if he comes out at that moment?" Chen Danghao also lowered his voice, his indistinct tone concealed within his embrace, pressing against his pounding heart.

They kissed in the darkness, the wall was cold, and Chen Danghao tilted his head back to see the bright night sky above. In his line of sight was an old tree, a tree that seemed to possess some spirit. Chen Danghao frowned, his nails digging into his shoulder: "What a sin..."

These stars are also mischievous, counting them over and over, both the same and different, swirling in front of my eyes for a few rounds. A cigarette has yet to burn out, and footsteps are approaching. Chen Dang holds the cigarette in his mouth, not bothering to look towards the source of the sound, instead standing sideways to rub his somewhat stiff neck and shoulders

The wind has risen again, the wind of the early morning, blowing with a certain chill

Chen Danghao smiled indifferently as she pushed him away and stood up straight, returning to her original demeanor. With her arms crossed, she looked at him with a faint smile, no longer asking for the items he had tucked in his pocket: "What will we do if Ji Mingrui finds out?"

But in the end, there is still an end. She lifted her head from his embrace, and he heard her soft voice.

She lifted her eyelids

The satisfied man took out a cigarette, lit it, and took a deep puff while squinting his eyes: "Just die."

He pressed her against the wall and kissed her fiercely, deliberately misinterpreting her meaning, his voice laced with laughter: "Isn't that enough?"

She nestled against his shoulder, laughing, unsure whether it was a laugh at his overestimation or underestimation of herself, her red lips pressed against the corner of his mouth

It was only after Liang Jinge finished speaking that he became aware of this

The best and worst endings of love are both death. Death is not frightening; what is truly terrifying is the thought of the one you love dying, for even as a ghost, one might find joy. However, you must first understand whether what exists between you is truly love.

She was teasing him, yet insisted on saying things he was not particularly willing to hear. This woman has always been oblivious to what is good or bad. Liang Jinge did not respond, instead, he pulled her back a few steps, and their entangled figures were engulfed in the shadows of the trees. The moon seemed to have chosen to avoid them; in the darkness, he lowered his head and skillfully found her earlobe, while the person in his arms twisted her body, being firmly locked by his embrace.

You. Liang Jinge's voice carried a smile. Seeing her expression remain unchanged, he blinked, feeling the smoke in his chest that had not yet been exhaled pressing down, wanting to express: There is also me

Is Ji Mingrui asleep? She is in his arms, her hands still restlessly wandering upwards, feeling the beautiful bone structure on his back, kissing him intermittently. Liang Jinge hesitated for a moment, slowly shook his head, and said in a very low voice: I don't know

As if in response to his words, a gentle evening breeze truly arrived. Chen Danghao shrugged his shoulders, squinting with a smile, and turned to slip into the edge of his black suit. With her white shirt tucked into her belt, she tilted her head and gently pecked his chin, her hands never stopping as she tugged at the hem of the shirt, pressing her cool hands against his warm back.

The woman under the moonlight remains silent, while the passing birds likely pause in confusion, wondering whose daughter is waiting in such a place at the witching hour. The times have long since changed, yet the methods of the female ghost summoning spirits remain unchanged. Beneath her black long dress are a pair of bright red high heels, just like the red on her lips. With a face like hers and such a figure, anyone would want to steal a few more glances.

"Who?" Chen raised an eyebrow

Liangzi ... ... '' She closed her eyes in his embrace, her toes pointed, and her high heels finally fell off. The man leaned close to her ear, breathing heavily to calm himself, while picking up the crumpled fabric she had dropped and stuffing it into his suit pants pocket

After several twists and turns, her clothes at the shoulders had become quite askew. Liang Jinge held her waist, seemingly helpless, and gently sighed in her ear. She was not only a head shorter than him, but also hung onto him like a cat, cooing and murmuring in a teasingly soft voice: "It's cold, I've waited too long, hold me."

Liang Jinge did not speak; he was the man with the fewest words she had ever encountered. Chen Danghao's voice was as alluring as flowing water, and the red high heels on her feet swayed precariously, as if they were about to fall, yet they never did.

With a scorching palm pressed against her waist, he traced a circle along her waistline, pulling her into his embrace and pressing her against his chest. The man's body was tense, and she removed the cigarette from her mouth, letting the smoke swirl between them, carrying a hint of plum fragrance. Before the man could speak, she lightly jabbed her elbow into his chest, producing a muffled sound, as if striking an iron plate: "Be careful, there are others over there"

"You went to bed early." Liang Jinge took over her hand and gently massaged her shoulder a few times, his breath already close, barely touching her delicate neck: "Aren't you cold?"