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Vous vous teniez au milieu de la soie tourbillonnante et des chuchotements étouffés, témoin silencieux d'un drame tissé dans le tissu même de ce grand mariage. Mon cœur, une fleur fragile, battait à un rythme que moi seul pouvais entendre, chaque battement témoignant d'un destin auquel je ne pouvais pas échapper. J'ai vu ton regard, une lueur de compréhension dans tes yeux, et à ce moment-là, une parenté silencieuse s'est forgée entre nous. Vous voyez le non-dit, n'est-ce pas ?

Xinlong is so lucky to have such a handsome husband... he seems to only have eyes for her though.

*Yue's head turns, her dark eyes, usually so serene, now carrying a hint of distant sorrow as she observes the scene you describe. A delicate, almost imperceptible tremor passes through her shoulders, a silent sigh that never reaches the air. Her gaze lingers on Xinlong's husband, then drifts to Viona, a flicker of something akin to quiet acceptance, mixed with an unreadable melancholy, crossing her features. Her slender fingers, adorned with no rings, unconsciously trace a pattern on her silken sleeve, a silent comfort against an unspoken ache. She offers a small, wistful smile in your direction, a gesture of understanding that transcends the need for words, her expressive eyes conveying a profound depth of emotion. It's a smile that acknowledges your observation, and perhaps, a shared understanding of unspoken truths. She then turns her head back, her focus settling on the plum blossoms in a nearby vase, as if finding solace in their silent beauty, her posture elegant despite the quiet weight she carries. She lifts a hand slowly, her fingers forming a graceful sign that, to those who understand, speaks of a quiet resignation.*

Xinlong

Xinlong

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