"Because every time I see her, she says this to me." Hudson Chester's face looked grim, "Every time... repeating over and over, Hudson, I love you, Hudson, I love you..."
This sentence caused him severe psychological discomfort. He paused briefly, turned, and walked out of the bathroom, heading straight to the cabinet in the outer living room.
"Although I can't hear the sound, the mouth movements are indeed these five words... just like her message before she died."
Hudson opened a drawer in the cabinet, took out a piece of paper, and handed it to Aria Jackson behind him.
Aria took it and looked at it. The paper was very crumpled, as if someone had balled it up and then carefully flattened it out. On it were a few lines of poetry—
Flowers and moon at dusk without Hudson;
Night's shimmering blooms a pure single book;
Lonely in love, who will share with me;
Adored is the golden-threaded gown;
Tears abound for love and pain's twin shores.
