CEO’s Prisoned Love - C93
“Director Song, Director Song.” Since his childhood, Ou Shihao had never comforted or experienced the pain of losing his beloved. Back then, when Zhao Xin’er left, Song Mingjian had only remained silent for a long time and hadn’t lost his composure.
However, today, he had actually lost his composure like this, completely losing all reason. He looked at Song Mingjian’s dull eyes and lifeless face. I’m afraid he doesn’t even have the motivation to live anymore.
A white, velvet-like cloud was sticking to the blue sky, slowly drifting about. In a split-second, it seemed to transform into Gu Xiangling’s face. That unforgettable appearance, would she never see it again in this life?
No, he did not accept this result. Haven’t you found the body yet? Then there was still a glimmer of hope! Song Mingjian’s eyes suddenly regained their lustre and he sat up. I want to find her. If I want to see someone alive, I want to see their corpse. Even if I have to drain the sea of water, I want to find her. ”
“Alright!” Ou Shihao agreed without a second thought. This way, at least Song Mingjian would have a chance to live. Furthermore, he didn’t want to believe that his wife was really dead. The heavens wouldn’t be so cruel to Director Song.
An unknown sea bird flew by. Song Mingjian whispered to the vast sea, “Xiangling, if the sea water really devours you, I’ll turn into a royal guard and fill up the sea.”
A week later, the rescue team sent a photo to Song Ming’s sword. It showed an extremely damaged arm, with only two fingers remaining. The remaining finger was adorned with a shining diamond ring.
Song Mingjian recognized the perfect heart-shaped diamond at a glance. He had personally put it on Gu Xiangling. No, I don’t believe that. ” Resisting the tearing pain in his heart, he ordered Ou Shihao, “DNA identification!”
The result of the appraisal was 100% sure that the arm belonged to Gu Xiangling. When Ou Shihao was interrogated by Song Mingjian, Song Mingjian’s expression turned ashen.
“Director Song, you … you must grieve.” It took a long time for Ou Shihao to come up with these words of consolation. He knew that any words of consolation would be useless.
Song Ming’s voice seemed to come from the nine heavens, it was ethereal and desolate: “I want to give her the most solemn and solemn funeral.”
In those bleak and rainy days, even the sky seemed to be crying. The spiritual vehicle convoy that was hundreds of meters long meandered through the main road of Tonghua City and headed towards the mausoleum garden.
The Land Rover was covered in white flowers, and Song Mingjian’s favorite ride was filled with endless grief from beginning to end. Ou Shihao had tactfully advised Song Mingjian not to treat this car as a spiritual vehicle. After all, Song Mingjian often used this car to carry customers, and others would think it was unlucky in the future.
Song Mingjian shook his head in refusal. The first time he’d met Gu Xiangling, he’d driven this Land Rover, and it was in this Land Rover that he’d cooped up with Gu Xiang’s spirit carriage.
Her aura seemed to still permeate the car. Song Ming held the casket tightly in his arms. The casket made of pure white jade was ice-cold. Xiang Ling, this isn’t you. You can’t be so cold.
Behind them was a fleet of spirit carriages, with employees, authors, and countless fans who had arrived on their own. Many fans cried until their eyes turned red and swollen. Some of them even fainted.
As the colorful colors were taken off, the page was replaced by black and white. Readers all over the country offered flowers and candles to Gu Xiangling and wished her happiness in heaven.
The mausoleum garden was filled with pine and cypress trees, as if carved from emerald. Song Ming got out of the carriage and walked towards the tomb with the urns in his arms. His expression was like that of a wooden sculpture the entire time. There was no hint of sadness or tears.
The mournful wails resounded throughout the world as the mournful cries echoed throughout. Song Tianxue held up his black umbrella and stood by Song Mingjian’s side. Only he understood how sad Song Mingjian’s heart was.
After Song Tianshu finished reciting the eulogy, he reminded Song Mingjian, “Put down the urn.” Song Mingjian hugged him even more tightly. Xiang Ling, let me hug you a little longer. From now on, I won’t be able to hug you anymore.
“You’re making her leave in a bad mood, aren’t you?” Song Tian’s voice was choked with emotion as she spoke. She wanted to snatch the bone ash urns from Song Mingjian’s hands, but Song Miaoyu stopped him in time. “Tianshu, let second brother …” “Accompany her again.”
The drizzling rain moistened Song Mingjian’s face, gradually gathering into droplets of water, like the tears that rolled down his cheeks. For a moment, Song Mingjian could hear Gu Xiangling’s voice as he recited: “If I love you, I won’t be a cicada, and I’ll show off my skills to you …”
His mind went blank as Song Mingjian’s thoughts went back to the past:
He saw Gu Xiangling stumble down the thirty flights of stairs …
He saw Gu Xiangling smiling at him from under the trees full of gardenia …
He saw Gu Xiangling seriously writing in front of a computer …
He seemed to feel a pair of slender, jade-like hands deftly fastening his tie. She loved to tie his tie, untie it and untie it. She said, “Your tie is the most beautiful part of your body. It can only be controlled by me, I’ll solve it. ”
The bone ash urns were slowly placed down from Song Ming’s sword and gradually covered by a handful of soil. Very soon, only a few white marks were left on the urns.
Song Ming could not continue with the last handful of dirt. He greedily stared at the white dot. Was his Xiang Ling, his beloved daughter, going to part with him like this forever?
Song Tianshu sprinkled the last of his soil for him. Finally, the last trace of traces disappeared. The living and the dead were separated, never to see each other again.
Song Mingjian’s vision turned black. The lead gray canopy of the sky smashed down on him, causing his legs to go soft and he fainted.
The first seven was the day to visit the deceased. Song Mingjian came alone with a large bunch of Gardenia Flowers. He wore a black suit and pants, and even his shirt was black. There was only a white silk flower pinned to his chest.
He didn’t have a tie on his neck, so he was always dissatisfied with the way he tied it. This was a good day with a sunny day. The temperature wasn’t very high, and the sun was warm, but it wasn’t able to warm Song Ming’s cold heart.
The tombstone with the luxurious atmosphere was the best location for the feng shui in the mausoleum garden. It also took up the most space. On the black marble, engraved with elegant and unrestrained calligraphy: Dear Wife Gu Xiangling’s Tomb.
There was a picture of her beside him. She was filming it with a very good filming technique. She was very light and beautiful, just like a living person. Song Ming knelt on one knee and gently placed the bunch of gardenia in front of the tombstone.
Under the bright and beautiful sunlight, the pure white flowers appeared even more charming. Each flower was in the most beautiful state with half open and flawless white petals. This was personally picked by Song Mingjian, Gu Xiangling loved gardenia and often sat under the gardenia tree to write.
Today, the gardenia is still open, and the fragrance is still fresh. The figure under the flower, however, was gone forever.
