Lu Chengfeng looked up at the opposite Chang'e, only to see the moonlight like water, the jade osmanthus scenting the air, the surrounding courtyard in ruins, yet the corners were filled with small, dense flowers, the woman sitting in the bright light, each smile and frown, unforgettable.
In that instant, it was truly impossible to distinguish whether it was the fragrance of flowers or of the person.
He straightened his back, scrutinized the beauty in front of him, and said righteously, "I have an unconventional request, and I hope the fairy can fulfill it."
At this moment, even the form of address had changed imperceptibly.
"I am but a dying person, Young Master may speak freely."
Chang'e sat under the moonlight, her cold and beautiful face casting a trace of sorrow, as the wind blew, the scent of osmanthus behind her filled the air, the branches and leaves swayed, seemingly wanting to comfort this lonely and sorrowful woman.
