Fu Ying stared at him, her eyes reddening as she did: "You lied to me."
Her voice was soft and raspy, with a slight sobbing tone.
She moved closer to the man, wrapping her arms around his waist, and smelled the strong scent of smoke on him.
He did smoke, but the smoke scent on his body had never been this intense before; Fu Ying rubbed her face against him.
With the girl's small hands wrapped around him, warmth filled his heart as he lowered his head to look at her.
"Is this really okay?"
Fu Ying paused, not understanding.
"My dad and my younger brother." He glanced at the tombstone as he introduced them to her.
Fu Ying silently let go of him; there were two bunches of flowers in front of the tombstone, moist and delicately tempting.
And her hands were empty; in her haste to get to the cemetery, she hadn't even brought a single flower.
"I came too hastily."
