"Yuan Lang." Wu Zhe responded, his voice calmer and calmer than expected. Unable to control it, he finally had to raise his head.
Yuan Lang smiled, squinting his eyes and lazily, just like in his memory. He stretched out his hand, and Wu Zhe had no choice but to quickly reach out and hold it. Their hands paused in the air for a short time. Wu Zhe felt something jump in the palm of his hand, maybe it was Yuan Lang's pulse or his heartbeat.