Between them spanned more than a thousand days and nights, from being separated by life and death to a reunion in the mortal world.
There was nothing more absurd than this.
Li Qiao stood before him, her dark eyes red but devoid of tears.
Her gaze slowly fell to the red hat medal on his chest and lingered long before she suddenly smiled, "So it turns out... you are Duke Charlman, does that mean I can no longer call you Huizai..."
Duke Charlman, ancestrally from Xiao’s, used to be known as Xiao Yehui.
He had left the Border Three years past using the pretense of death and returned to the Ducal Family.
Xiao Yehui had imagined countless scenarios for their encounter, yet this moment of the actual reunion belonged to none of them.
In this world, only two people would call her Xiao Qi, one was Xiao Yehui, another was Bo Tingxiao.
Xiao Yehui looked at her, suppressing his emotions, and said with a warm smile, "Xiao Qi, aren’t you happy to see me alive?"
Li Qiao listened to that familiar yet strange address, slowly lifted her eyelids, and looked at Xiao Yehui somewhat vacantly.
In Li Qiao’s mind, only this word remained.
She had thought Shang Yu didn’t want her to come to the British Imperial because he didn’t want her to encounter anyone from the Charlman family.
Now, she finally understood why.
Li Qiao looked at the man delayedly, her voice trembling slightly, "Did you always know?"
Shang Yu’s breathing became disordered, and as he stepped forward, he saw Li Qiao’s eyes moisten.
She hadn’t cried when looking at Xiao Yehui, yet at the moment she asked him, she cried.
No one had ever seen Li Qiao in tears.
Even in moments of intimate joy when Shang Yu brought her to tears, it was an entirely different concept from her crying in this situation.
The man was even more panicked than her, he hastened forward to embrace her in his arms, his other hand trembling as he squeezed her wrist, his voice hoarse, "Be good, let go of your hand."
As Li Qiao was pulled into his embrace, her veil also fell off.
In a place where no one saw, she closed her eyes, and her silent tears fell like rain.
Less than half a minute passed before Li Qiao regained control of her emotions, but her hand had not loosened at all.
It was as if only the deep pain seeping into her bones could convince her that this absurd reality was not a dream.
She stepped out of Shang Yu’s arms, her eyes damp, her lips pulling into an appropriate, ceremonious smile, and she nodded slightly towards Xiao Yehui, "Excuse me, please continue."
As Li Qiao turned to leave, Xiao Yehui said from behind her, "Xiao Qi, let’s talk."
Her back to him, her tone without a single fluctuation, "What does the Duke wish to discuss with me?"
A single address of ’Duke’ erected a wall between them.
Li Qiao turned around, smiled faintly, "Are you trying to tell me that you never intended to take the lives of Shen Qingye and Xia Siyu?"
Xiao Yehui’s gaze slightly hardened, but he curled his lips unaffectedly, "It seems you are convinced that it was me?"
"Duke Charlman, we have all the time in the world," Li Qiao also wore a slight smile, gradually loosening her grip, as the bloodied champagne glass shards fell to the ground.
He was not Xiao Yehui, nor was he their Huizai, the eldest of the Border Seven Sons, who had indeed died three years ago.
Today, he was Duke Charlman, the archenemy of the Parma Shang clan.
The one behind Shen Qingye and Xia Siyu’s injuries.
Li Qiao left, her back straight as she disappeared into the depths of the lawn wall.
Shang Yu swept Xiao Yehui with a sharp gaze and followed after loosing her, stepping forward.
Behind him, Xiao Yehui lowered his gaze to his left hand, his eyes darkening profoundly.