The Emperor's uncle loves me! My paranoid wife, don't run away

The discomfort that had been suppressed for so long finally erupted.

The emotions in his chest were like surging waves, making his heart beat rapidly. He took a deep breath and tried to maintain his composure on the surface.

Before coming, he rejected Wei Jiuzhao's request to accompany him, as he had just done something bad.

It's not that he was throwing a tantrum, but he stubbornly believed that the nightmarish memory was no longer important to him.

Shen Kuo didn't want to come to the Tongjia Mansion, but no matter what, Tongjia Ruyuan was dead, so he had to come no matter what.

However, Shen Kuo's "thought" was shattered like bubbles and was shattered by Tong Jiasuo's words.

Tong Jiasuo's voice was filled with fatigue and sorrow, but it sounded like an alarm bell going off in Shen Kuo's ears. This old man is really good at acting.

Shen Kuo's body stiffened and he paused in the step he had just taken.

A hand gently rested on Shen Kuo's shoulder.

Shen Kuo suddenly turned his head, his pupils shrank slightly, and his body subconsciously turned to quickly avoid the touch of that hand.

His movements seemed a little hasty, attracting the attention of others.

"Greetings, Lord Sikong." Shen Kuo respectfully took a half step back, bowed his head, and said in a low voice.

Tong Jiasuo stroked his beard, his eyes slightly red, and his voice hoarse: "It's Ruyuan who is not lucky enough to marry you."

Shen Kuo's breathing suddenly became disordered, and his heart seemed to be pressed down hard by an invisible force.

Tong Jiasuo's eyes were full of complexity. He seemed to be trying to find some kind of comfort on Shen Kuo's face, but in the end he just sighed and continued, "Shen Kuo, don't worry. As a father, I will definitely find out the cause of Ruyuan's death and will never let her die in vain!"

"Lord Sikong," Shen Kuo opened his mouth, his voice trembling slightly, "The dead cannot be resurrected, please accept my condolences."

He lowered his head to hide his emotions, his hands hanging at his sides, but his knuckles were clenched until they turned white.

That night in the Imperial Garden came to mind.

In the dark night, the young boy was like a headless fly, running in panic. The bamboo shadows around him swayed in the wind, like countless sneering faces.

His shoes had been lost long ago, his socks were torn by thorns, revealing his red and swollen toes, a corner of his clothes was pulled, the torn fabric fluttered in the wind during his struggle, and the tattered clothes hung on his thin body, making him look miserable.

Behind him, three figures were chasing closely.

Their laughter was low and eerie, like a ghost screaming in his ears. The moment he turned around, he saw their hideous faces. He slipped in fear and fell heavily to the ground. The smell of blood instantly filled his nose.

"Run, run again!" One of them deliberately slowed down his pace and spoke in a frivolous tone, as if teasing his prey.

……

Suddenly, Tong Jiasuo's voice brought Shen Kuo back to reality.

Tong Jiasuo walked forward and got very close. His squinted eyes were as bright as an eagle's. He looked Shen Kuo up and down with a look of undisguised scrutiny.

"She is indeed a pretty girl with red lips and white teeth." Tong Jiasuo nodded slightly, his voice low and carrying an indescribable meaning.

Shen Kuo felt a chill running down his spine. He instinctively took a step back to avoid the reaching hand, but he didn't expect his back to hit a chest.

The man reached out and held his shoulders, steadying his body which was somewhat out of control.

Then, a familiar and deep voice sounded beside his ear: "Lord Sikong, please accept my condolences."

Shen Kuo turned around suddenly and his pupils shrank slightly.

The person who came was Hao Chuan.

His eyes were calm, like a pool of deep water, and no emotion could be seen, but the hands that supported Shen Kuo's shoulders were strong and firm, as if silently conveying some kind of comfort.

Tong Jiasuo's gaze swept across Hao Chuan's face, and instantly returned to his previous sad expression. He sighed again, as if he wanted to swallow something important into his heart.

The muscles on his face twitched, and finally he stopped talking and turned and left.

Shen Kuo suppressed the emotions surging in his chest and whispered, "Thank you." He tried to make his voice sound calm, but he couldn't hide the trembling in it.

Those nights that were buried deep in his memory now resurfaced, causing his fingertips to feel slightly cold.

Hao Chuan didn't say much, just patted him on the shoulder lightly, his eyes calm and with a sense of reliability.

"Are you okay?" Hao Chuan asked softly, with a hint of concern in his eyes, but his tone was restrained and distant.

Shen Kuo shook his head, his lips were a little pale, and his voice was hoarse: "I'm fine."

There was silence.

It was so quiet all around that the only sound you could hear was the rustling of white flags in the wind. The fluttering white cloths were circling in the air, like lonely souls with nowhere to rest.

The air was filled with the smell of burning paper, as thick as an invisible fog, making it slightly difficult to breathe.

In the distance, a group of white birds flapped their wings, breaking the brief silence, but also blended into the sky in an instant.

Hao Chuan stood in the wind, his expression calm and stern.

His hand dropped quietly after the touch, as if he was intentionally or unintentionally keeping a proper distance. He knew that distance could sometimes preserve some fragile things better than closeness.

Hao Chuan has changed a lot these days.

He has experienced so much, understood a lot, and let go of a lot.

He had figured it out long ago that he and Shen Kuo were from two different worlds after all. He could not give Shen Kuo the happiness he wanted, and even getting close to him would seem inappropriate.

The wind continued to blow, and the white flags rolled, like some kind of silent memorial.

What was he commemorating? Perhaps it was Tong Jiaruyuan's life that never blossomed or bore fruit, or perhaps it was the past between him and Shen Kuo that had long been blurred.

"Hao Chuan..." Shen Kuo suddenly spoke, looking down at the ground, as if hesitating about how to start, but in the end, he said nothing, just sighed.

Hao Chuan looked at him quietly, his face calm, as if he was waiting, and also as if he had let go. The corners of his mouth moved, and finally he just whispered: "Take care."

In the vast sea of ​​people, it is common to pass by each other by chance.

Once missed, it is missed. Some people are destined to be passers-by in your life, staying for a moment but not being able to accompany you to the end.

There are always people burying regrets in places you can't see, and eventually they go away, leaving behind only silence like today's wind, lonely but eternal.

……

In the Shen Mansion, in Shen Runing's study.

Ji Yun suddenly knelt in front of Shen Runing.

"Ning'er, I beg you, please help me!"

"I don't want to enter the palace to be a concubine..."