The priest's voice was low and blurred. Almost all of them were about to hear what he said. The rain gathered along the black umbrella wall to wet everyone's feet.

When the time is, the white coffin placed in the automatic lifting platform slowly decreases. Everyone holds a soil in their hands and sprinkle the soil on the coffin at once.

Hai Zhuoxuan looked at the coffin with a complicated expression. Everyone knew that he gave all his equity to Ye Chuyun, but no one mentioned after returning to China. Ye Chuyun's death made him surprised, but he felt reasonable.

Those who are disregarding for love.

The soil in my hand fell on the white coffin, and then slid down the texture of the coffin gently, and the next person went forward.

"What is that?" Ye Chuqing suddenly watched a figure who came not far away, and then said that "Sister Yiyi?"

Ding Yiyi was full of mud water, and his face fell off a piece of purple. It was not difficult to see that it turned from the wall. The hair was tangled and tangled together.

Fu Fengyi was trying to speak, her arm was grasped gently, Ye Nianmo looked at Ding Yiyi, and whispered: "Grandma, even if I ask you."

The crowd automatically separated a passage. Ding Yiyi trembled and slowly walked to the grave pit. He jumped down with his hands supporting the tomb.

Cold, "Don't move everyone."

The white coffin looked particularly eye -catching in the black sky. She slowly lowered her head and printed a kiss on the cold coffin. "Sorry, I'm late."

She whispered, her eyes were gentle, Xia Youxin couldn't bear to look at her eyes, Ye Chuqing on the side was almost crying.

Ding Yiyi did not cry, but her eyes were scary. She spread out her heart and took out the ring box that had been held in her palm and laughed on the coffin: "In the end, there is no proposal."

After that, she resolutely climbed up, and one arm stretched to her. The rain flowed from Ye Nianmo's jaw into his gray suit. He looked at her fixedly.

The brown soil was lifted to gradually cover the white coffin. The rain reduced, and the back of the face was clearly settled.

Fu Fengyi stood in the wind and rain for two hours, and because of his grief, he fainted on the spot after the funeral. The crowd hurriedly gave her people in the seven or eight times, called the ambulance, and the scene was chaotic.

Ding Yiyi squatted on the ground, the bustling crowd gradually dispersed, and the cemetery returned to peace. She turned to look at the bright smile on the tombstone, and suddenly realized that she really couldn't see him again, hearing him, touching, touching

It's him.

The exhaustion all day made him exhausted, and his tears flowed down without warning.

"Brother, you are too cruel to Sister Yiyi today. Can you not see her sadness and sadness? At this time, are you all jealous?" Ye Chuqing stood under the eaves of the pavilion because she was worried about Ding Yiyi, so she stayed

Come down.

The rain increased, Ye Nianmo opened the umbrella to watch the woman crying in the distance, and said faintly: "The wound is not unveiled, it will flow pus."

Heavy rain poured, like a person who responded to the sadness on the ground, Ye Nianmo completely covered Ding Yiyi's head, letting the wind and rain blew his coat.

People are dead, and the living people are still in pain. After Ding Yiyi returned to Ye's house, he hadn't left the door for a week. In the living room, all Ye family sat together.

"What do you want to say?" Ye Qianmo asked.
Chapter completed!