Falling Flowers and Saying Goodbye

In late spring of the fourth year of Jinghe's reign, in Lin'an City, the falling flowers looked like snow. Lu Cian knelt in front of her mother's grave, holding a marriage letter in her hand, and threw it into the fire. Those are the three books and six rituals that he spent a year's savings to buy. On the red paper were written in black characters the names "Lu Cian" ​​and "Shen Luoci". He decided every stroke by himself. When he first wrote it, his hands were shaking because he was so happy. Now when I have a fever, my hands don't shake. Afu next to him whispered: "Sir, the imperial edict is already on the way. The Queen Mother has already issued an edict, pointing Miss Shen to——" "I know." Lu Ci'an threw the last fragment of the marriage book into the fire, "That's why she can't marry me." The flames licked the red paper, and the handwriting curled, turned black, and turned into ashes. A gust of wind blew over, and the ashes floated up and fell on his temples. His hair was originally black, but with that bit of ash on it, it looked like he had a white hair from a distance. He is only twenty-five this year. The days to come were still very long, so long that he didn't even know how he was going to endure them, but he knew in his heart that from today on, the three words "Shen Luo Ci", like this pile of burned-to-ash wedding letters, would remain etched in his heart year after year, and could not be destroyed in this life.