"What do you like about sister?" Yan Fei's eyes were fixed on Jiang Lin, as if she wanted to see through his heart.
Jiang Lin was silent for a few seconds, then the corner of his mouth curved slightly, and his eyes became gentle, as if he was back to the past, "She doesn't know how to dress up, she doesn't have good taste, she doesn't like to talk much, and she doesn't understand the world. But, she just likes her. What can I do?"
Yan Fei slowly turned around and said, "That's it." Her voice was very soft, as if she didn't care, but the corners of her eyes were moist when she smiled.
There was a sour feeling in her heart, a tightness in her chest, loss, and melancholy. She was always a one-man show.