Jiang Yujiao curled up on the sofa, hugging a cushion. Suddenly, she turned to look at Gu Cheng, as if remembering something from a long time ago.
“Gu Cheng, if I hadn’t posted that on my social media… would there have been nothing after that?” Her voice held curiosity, along with a hint of an unease she couldn’t quite put into words.
Gu Cheng was peeling an apple for her. He didn’t pause, only letting the corners of his mouth curve upward.
“No,” he said casually, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world. “I go to Jiming Temple every year.”
Jiang Yujiao blinked. “What for? To see the cherry blossoms?”
Gu Cheng handed her the peeled apple and looked up at her, his gaze quietly, unwaveringly tender.
“To wait for someone.”
Jiang Yujiao’s heart skipped a beat.
She already had a guess, but couldn’t help asking anyway: “Who?”
Gu Cheng looked at her without the slightest hesitation, steady and sure, as if answering a question he’d practiced a thousand times
“You.”
