"I often regret it."
After drinking the last drop of Songfeng mash from the jade cup of Mingquan, the young master in white suddenly said.
"Regret?"
The woman in green clothes opposite him raised her dark eyebrows and asked in a sleepy voice.
"Yes."
The young man in white seemed extremely tired. He lay lazily and slowly on the wine-stained black table. His raven-black hair spread around his slender and elegant wrist bones and became entangled with the light green Mingquan jade cup in his palm, making them inseparable.
"I regret meeting many people - meeting you."
There was actually a lot of weariness in his voice.
"Oh, so sure?"
"Don't you regret it?"
The young man in white sneered, his butterfly-winged eyes widened, and a half-sneer, half-disdain rested between the woman's eyebrows.
She didn't answer.
The wine cup is full, and the jade wrist is poured.
She had drank all the bitter wine in her cup.
"Heh..."
For some reason, the young master in white chuckled softly.
That was the first time she saw him in such a state of desolation, and it was also the last time.
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A huge pit from long ago, a nightmare that has never been filled (??).