Pan Ling stared at him, his mouth agape. "What did I say?" Hadn’t he just asked about Luan Shui’s family?

His servant glanced around nervously but finally couldn’t help but step closer and explain in a hushed voice. "You don’t know, but that Luan family is really unlucky. Their son, that Luan Shui, was a very beautiful youth that could draw any man’s eyes. He also had a good character but he fell in love with a man far above his station. At first, they were still happy and his family thought that it was a good thing for him and would help him secure a good life. But then that man lost interest and instead married a young woman."

"And Luan Shui was heartbroken?" Pan Ling’s expression turned pained. So because of that, he didn’t trust him either and felt that he would break his heart just the same?

His servant sighed. "Very much so! He couldn’t take it so he went to hang himself at the willow tree next to the river. His family noticed when he left so they rushed after him. They yelled for him to stop but to no avail." He sighed again. "Who knew … the rope he used ripped before he could die. They already thought they might not lose their son, after all, but he truly was too unlucky. He fell into the river. Back then, it had rained for three days and three nights without lessening the slightest bit. The stream was harsher than usual and he was pulled underwater and didn’t come up again. He finally drowned in the river and they only managed to pull his body out a week later."

The servant sighed for the third time and shook his head. "That Luan Shui … Words can’t describe what he must have gone through. And all just because he fell in love with the wrong man. Ah, one can only hope he’ll have more luck in his next life."

"… Yeah." Pan Ling sat at the table in a daze, staring at the steaming cup of tea without knowing what to think.

So to speak … he had spent the last ten months being in love with a ghost? No wonder … No wonder Luan Shui had said to forget about him because there was no way for them to ever be together. Tomorrow … tomorrow might actually be the anniversary of his death. It was likely the day he would have to leave this world of the living so his soul would still have a chance to reincarnate. If he didn’t, it might dissolve forever or turn into a vengeful spirit. That … truly wasn’t hat should happen.

Pan Ling closed his eyes and waved the servant away, finally going to bed in a complicated mood. When he got up the next morning, he dressed and then went back to the bridge. The chest with the hairpin was still standing there. Naturally, nothing could be seen of Luan Shui.

Pan Ling sighed. "Of course, a ghost wouldn’t come out during the day. No wonder he only ever appeared after the sun went down." He took the thin chest and put it back into his clothes, looking out at the river below him.

With the sounds of the city that were awakening all around him, the gurgling of the stream could hardly be heard. Only at night would it be as obvious as it had been yesterday. So had Luan Shui been forced to hear this sound that he had likely heard when he died for this whole year? The longer he thought about it, the more he felt that Luan Shui had indeed been too unlucky.

He sighed and returned home but he did not know what to do. He had to let go but he did not know how. All he could think about was that he would never be able to see him again if he did not go to see him today.

In the end, he could not hold back. He put the chest with the hairpin down next to his bed and then returned to the bridge, waiting there the whole day until the sun went down and night fell. He had forgotten to bring a lantern as it had still been bright when he went out again. He didn’t care though. He just waited, his hands clutching the railing while he looked down at the water.

"You still came." That familiar voice sounded behind him, nothing more but a whisper.

Pan Ling turned around, a sad smile on his lips. "I came to say goodbye. Maybe … maybe in our next life, we’ll meet early enough."

Luan Shui nodded. He stepped closer and reached out, raising his hands as if to touch Pan Ling’s cheeks. In the end, there was no touch. Pan Ling only felt as if a wisp of wind had brushed by his cheek. Before he could say anything else, the beautiful figure in front of his eyes scattered into a thousand lights and left the world of the living forever while he could only continue to stand on the bridge and listen to the whisper of the river.