In the third year when Jiang Lin took care of me, Bai Yueguang and Shen Qingyi recovered from illness and returned to China.
He immediately handed me a contract: "Qingyi needs to rest. You will temporarily move to the apartment in the south of the city."
I tore up the contract, smiled, nodded, and disappeared without a trace that night.
Later, Jiang Lin searched all over the city and only found the recording pen I left behind.
Pressing the play button, it was his drunken murmur: "Wanwan, you are much warmer than Qingyi..."
"She was never a replacement."
The last sentence was crystal clear, accompanied by the sound of his sleeping breathing for three years.
