After the Grand Empress Dowager passed away, I volunteered to spend three years at Xiaoling Mausoleum, mourning her and praying for her soul.
When I returned, a mischievous young woman had appeared at the sides of my fiancé, my closest friend, and my former classmates.
My fiancé said, “You’re so proper and dull. Yan Yan is much more lively and adorable.”
My childhood friend, who had once been as close as a sister, said, “Sister Yan Yan plays all kinds of folk games with me. She’s much more considerate than you, always pushing me to study and improve myself.”
I could only think that the affection we’d once shared had turned to ash. It didn’t even need the wind to scatter it; a few steps were enough.
What I wanted had never been the affection or friendship of certain people.
