Wang Ruonan pinched the lace edge of the bridesmaid's dress and glanced at the guests, but stopped suddenly when she touched that face - twenty years later, Lin Yijing's outline is still as clear as yesterday, but the eyebrows are a little more calm. She quickly turned away and pretended to arrange the bouquet, but when she turned to leave the table, he grabbed her wrist. 'Ruonan,' his voice was low and hoarse, as if squeezed out of the old days, 'do you still remember me? ' Her fingertips were trembling slightly and her throat was tight, but she stubbornly refused to look back - she was afraid that if she turned around, she would reveal all the thoughts she had accumulated over the past twenty years and that she did not dare to speak out.
