228. Funeral

A tall, slender figure walked silently along the narrow path paved with cobblestones.

The veil of rain enshrouded the graveyard, where tombstones of varying heights stretched into the distance amidst the withered yellow grass.

The sharply pointed spire of the church seemed to pierce through the rain, not far from a bustling funeral where groups of people clad in black and gray gathered in twos and threes, talking in hushed tones.

The arrival of Lu Li only caught the attention of a few nearby onlookers; recognizing a stranger's face, they paused briefly at his dark eyes before looking away.

"You're late," a man in a black top hat, holding a black umbrella, said as he approached the fence gate and handed Lu Li a white rose.

Droplets of rain clung to the petals, reflecting a whole world. He brought it to his nose and smelled it, sensing a cool freshness with hardly any scent.

"It's made of fabric; finding a bunch of flowers isn't easy these days," Tesla sighed.