Bai He sat in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, waiting for his daughter to finish practicing the piano. Today is her birthday and she has booked a restaurant.
Ginkgo trees are falling outside the window. She suddenly remembered her birthday the year she first arrived in Xijing—at that time, she was still called Bai Hehua, lived in a dormitory, and served dishes. I have had several boyfriends and countless jobs. Now she is the owner of this villa, worth tens of millions, and only her daughter is left by her side.
Ginkgo leaves fall quickly, like the four seasons, but also like people. She survived betrayal and illness.
Today, why not listen to her story.
Purpose: Which is more important, love or material things?