That night, he buried her by the lake, beside the woman who ca before.
When the morning sun rose, both graves were covered in the sa kind of white flowers.
Together. The three of them, two won who loved the sa man, one man who loved two won, were finally at peace in the earth and in mory.
The locals said that sotis, if you walk by the lake at night, you can hear two voices humming the sa song, one low, one soft, blending perfectly with the sound of the wind.
FADE OUT.
For a long mont, she simply sat there on the carpet, tears streaming down her face, her chest aching with the beautiful devastation of it all.
"Miss Tang?" Huo Wu’s voice ca from beside her, slightly hesitant. "Are you okay?"
She looked up at him, and he actually drew back slightly at the intensity of emotion in her eyes.
"I’m fine," she whispered, her voice thick. "I just..." She touched the laptop screen reverently. "I just found sothing extraordinary."
Across the room, Huo Ting Cheng had stopped whatever discussion he was having, his attention caught by the sight of Tang Fei’s tears. He stared toward her, concern etching lines in his forehead.
"Wow... This is so beautifully written, Huo Wu..." Tang Fei’s voice grew stronger, more certain. "I want this script imdiately purchased and we will start working on it imdiately. This is exactly what we need."
"All right, Missus." Huo Wu nodded, relief evident in his expression. He was glad she liked the scripts, with good material like this, they could produce quality dramas to showcase their entrance into the entertainnt world. "I will give them the feedback imdiately and begin negotiations."
While Huo Wu worked on his tablet, already drafting the acquisition proposal, Huo Ting Cheng reached Tang Fei’s side. He placed his hand on her shoulder, leaning down to gaze at the laptop screen, trying to see what had captivated her so completely that it made her cry.
His eyes scanned the docunt, catching fragnts, locked garden, dying woman, grief, and his expression shifted.
"You shouldn’t be reading these things that make you sad," he said, his tone edging toward protective irritation. "Let the directors decide on what they need. You might like it, but it’s not marketable." He moved his fingers toward the laptop, closing the email tab before she could protest.
Tang Fei’s eyes narrowed. "Geez! I haven’t co over to disturb your work..." She turned to look up at him, a slight smirk playing on her lips as she gently caught his hand that rested on her shoulder. "I am the main manager in this company. Don’t you think it’s within my rights to decide on so of these scripts? Or are you looking down on ?"
Her fingers traced along his knuckles, the gesture both affectionate and pointed.
Huo Ting Cheng’s jaw tightened. "I didn’t say anything with that aning," he replied, his voice dropping to that low, controlled register that ant he was trying very hard to be reasonable.
His eyes flicked to Huo Wu, a clear warning in his gaze.
Huo Wu suddenly found his tablet extrely interesting.
"All right, all right..." Tang Fei’s smirk softened into sothing more genuine. "I’m not so delicate that I can’t handle such a small emotional episode. Stories are supposed to make you feel sothing, either sad or happy."
She paused, tilting her head as she looked at him, and sothing shifted in her expression, beca more serious, more searching.
"By the way, let ask you sothing..." Her voice dropped quieter, almost contemplative, "If I were diagnosed with a disease and told I would die in three months... or even in a week... what would you do?"
The question hung in the air between them, heavy with implications neither of them fully understood.
Because Tang Fei was thinking about the original owner of this body. If her soul hadn’t taken over Tang Fei’s life, the real Tang Fei would have been dead by now, gone and forgotten, another casualty of circumstance and cruelty.
She was living on borrowed ti in a borrowed body.
And sohow, that made The Locked Garden resonate even deeper.
Huo Ting Cheng went very still. His hand on her shoulder tightened almost imperceptibly, and when he spoke, his voice had lost all its earlier irritation.
"Why would you ask that?" His eyes searched her face, suddenly alert, almost afraid. "Are you sick? Did sothing happen? Tang Fei...."
"I’m not sick," she assured him quickly, squeezing his hand. "I’m just curious. The script made think about it, about how people react when they know ti is limited. How they choose to spend whatever days they have left."
She looked back at the closed laptop, her expression distant.
"The woman in the story... she had six months. And she chose to spend it in a stranger’s house, tending a dead woman’s garden, learning to let go before she was even gone." Tang Fei’s voice was soft and thoughtful. "I wonder if that’s brave or sad. Or maybe both."
Huo Ting Cheng crouched down beside her so they were at eye level. His hand moved from her shoulder to cup her face, forcing her to et his gaze.
"If you had three months," he said, each word deliberate and weighted, "I would spend every single day making sure you knew you were loved. I would take you everywhere you wanted to go. I would give you everything you ever dread of."
He paused, his thumb brushing across her cheekbone intimately and reassuring her...
"And I would search for every possible cure, exhaust every resource, call in every favor until there was nothing left to try." His eyes were dark, intense. "I would not accept it. I would not let you go quietly into so stranger’s garden to die, while I’m right here."
Tang Fei’s breath caught in her throat. "Even if that’s what I wanted? To go quietly?"
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