Chapter 808: Chapter 257: When the Soul-Continuing Incense Burns Out, I Shall Leave
“Miss Anne… I’ve co to see you.”
Leonard Churchill had never felt a sentence weigh so heavily on him.
The old person lying in the chair by the window also trembled slightly.
The room fell silent for a mont.
Only then did she respond, “Mr. Leonard Churchill…”
That address felt sowhat unfamiliar,
yet as soon as she spoke, the feeling was just as it had been all those years ago.
Suddenly, Leonard Churchill seed to see the silly girl from a hundred years ago, who had smiled as she greeted him, sitting in front of the window, waiting for him.
With myriad thoughts in disarray, he didn’t know what to say and stamred, “Miss Anne, it’s been a long ti.”
The old person’s tone was much too composed, gently saying, “Yes, it has been a very, very long ti.”
She had waited a full hundred years for this eting.
And hearing that “it’s been a long ti,” Leonard Churchill’s eyes unwillingly reddened.
He walked over.
These few short steps seed to cross through ti and space, taking an eternity.
The old person in the chair just waited quietly.
This brief span of ti was neither long nor short.
In the grand sche of her long life, it was not long.
But it was not short either.
It seed to be an epito of the lifeti of longing she had endured.
Like returning to the trepidation of her youthful days, she couldn’t help but ask one more question, “If you saw the ‘Miss Anne’ from the past turned into an old woman with grey hair, would you be disappointed?”
Leonard Churchill didn’t answer, nor did he stop.
Feeling that faint “air,” he felt as if even breathing was like his heart being wrung out in pain, and he could only murmur, “Silly girl, why did you wait for for so many years?”
“I…”
The old person listened, a tender smile erging on her aged face.
That call of “silly girl” made her feel as though the worth of waiting her entire life was no longer bitter.
She smiled in relief, “Because… you are Mr. Leonard Churchill, after all.”
She was still her.
And the man before her was still the Mr. Leonard Churchill from her mories.
The mont she heard that familiar voice from her mories, she, too, amidst the passing of years, rembered herself.
….
In the corner of the room, an incense burner was sending up tendrils of blue smoke.
A refreshing fragrance entered his nostrils.
Leonard Churchill walked softly to the window and saw the person in the blue dress lying in the chair.
Her silver hair was elegantly piled high.
She sat there quietly, as if untouched by ti, already very beautiful.
The old person also heard the footsteps behind her; her eyes beca increasingly tender, filled with a hint of anticipation.
Leonard Churchill walked to the front of the chair, turned around in an instant, and it seed as if two different eras of ti overlapped.
Their gazes t.
At first glance, he saw those familiar eyes.
There was a hint of unassuming elegance between her brows, and her clear eyes sparkled with specks of starlight.
Just like the familiar visage from his mory.
The old person looked at him; her eyes trembled slightly, and then gently rippled with a serene smile.
Her wish was fulfilled. Her life had no more regrets.
In that fleeting mont, Leonard Churchill felt as if he saw the bright and sprightly girl from his mories.
He couldn’t help but murmur, “Miss Anne, my na is Leonard Churchill. It’s a pleasure to et you.”
The old person also joyfully uttered that sentence, “Mr. Leonard Churchill, my na is Vera Williams. It’s a pleasure to et you.”
It was just like how they were in tune with each other a hundred years ago.
Her once luscious black hair was now white but still ticulously arranged; her face bore the traces of ti but was still dignified and elegant; her eyes were clear, now with added wisdom from the years…
This elegant lady, who had pined for her beloved her whole life, now seed to gaze through the years at her vibrant, youthful self.
She had been preparing for this eting for many years.
At the end of her journey, Vera Williams looked at the face before her that was identical to the one in photographs; even though she had long co to terms with everything, she couldn’t help but feel moved and let out a slight sigh, “You still look the sa as before. Pity I’ve grown old.”
It seed as if there was so much she wanted to say.
But after that sigh, she ultimately said only one thing, “The most romantic part of my life was eting you at my most beautiful age. But the biggest regret is also having t you at my most beautiful age. If only… it had been a hundred years later.”
Leonard Churchill felt an inexplicable sadness engulf his heart as he listened to these words, and he said, “Miss Anne, why… why would you do such a foolish thing?”
Looking at Leonard Churchill’s reddened eyes, Vera Williams couldn’t help but offer comfort, “Leonard, don’t be so upset. At the end of life, you see, a lot of things beco clear…”
It seed that saying these words had exhausted much of her vitality.
After a pause, she continued, “Since the year I t you, I realized that death isn’t the end of life, but being frozen in ti.”
…
At this mont, Leonard Churchill felt overwheld by an irrepressible sense of suffocation.
The tone was achingly familiar.
It was like when they parted a hundred years ago; as she comforted him.
The kind girl, despite feeling so distressed herself, thought of consoling others.
Never before had Leonard Churchill been more acutely aware of such intense pain.
It was an emotion more painful than death.
He keenly sensed that sothing very, very important in his life was about to slip away.
It was like holding a fistful of sand; the harder he held on, the more it slipped through his fingers.
Wasn’t this scene strikingly similar to that year?
They were both about to go to a “faraway place” unreachable by the other.
Unable to hold back.
He felt this way, so how helpless must the pure girl, like a white rose, have felt back then.
Vera Williams looked at him, empathizing with all the emotions he was enduring, her eyes glistening. She consoled him again, “We have t again, haven’t we? Fate has already been very kind to us.”
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