A soundless sob rang through the tomb; it wasn’t clear whether it was the sound of the wind, or those who had once been so close scattering apart. [1] The kerosene lamp made no sound from start to finish, and the inverted image upon the glass was distinctly and extremely harsh and cruel, clearly reminding everyone gathered that the magnificence had already passed by, one thousand three hundred or more years before. “Ai.” Tu Laoyao, that young master, crouching on the ground, let out the sound of a sigh. A Yin, on the other hand, was leaning against the wall, like Li Shiyi, head lowered, not knowing what she was thinking, and only after a great deal of time put on a fake smile, the corners of her lips rising, both sneering and lonely. Li Shiyi’s throat bobbed, a faint aching, sour sense of unwellness apparent, but she only silently gathered up the snuffed-out smoking pipe. When being able to meet in person wasn’t as good as not being able to meet, one should remember that it may not ne