Untitled

One decides how much importance it holds.

The rain seemingly hit down with the force of a bullet, determined to flood the streets for the entire night.

The drenched Meng Fuyao stayed in the equally soaked Zhangsun Wuji's arms and coughed non-stop. A dark mouthful of blood accompanied every cough. As she coughed, she took Zhangsun Wuji pulse. He opened his eyes, pressed down on her hand, and smiled.

Meng Fuyao gazed into his eyes. It was a calm, abstruse sea. All the pain and suffering in the world were nothing but a sea breeze, teasing the waves as they pass.

That gaze told her: All the pain and suffering will eventually disappear into nothingness. Love, hatred, grievances, and grudges will be buried in its grave. No one should carry a coffin as they move ahead. No one should fall because of a mistake that was not their fault.

Choosing family over strangers is but human nature. What is there to blame?