Like a breeze blowing across the lake and a dragonfly jumping across her fingertips, Yuxuan looked at the boy walking by talking and laughing with others from the window, her heart trembled with itch. She quickly lowered her head as her eyes swept over, and drew on the paper shell with a pen, with the corners of her mouth raised sharply. How could she have known at that time that time did not stop anymore, and the beauty was only in that moment.
Yuxuan stood in the mess of the rental house, her peaceful face distorted. She hit the man in front of her on the shoulder and asked him hoarsely why. Minghua's lips moved slightly, unable to say anything, and turned away.
Many years later, Yuxuan met Minghua again in the square. The man was young and cheerful, holding a half-grown boy in his hand. Yuxuan smiled with relief, knelt down and picked up the boy. She thought that if the child was still alive, he might be older than this little guy.
This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.
