When the time came to this moment, Lin Wei looked out the window. The moonlight was not like water as described in the novel, reflecting the man's face as if it was shining with dazzling light.
That night, there was no moon at all.
With the help of street lights, Jin Feng's figure could only be vaguely outlined. She looked hard and could only see that he was thin, wearing a neat suit and carrying a briefcase, that's all. Lin Wei held the phone and struggled to squeeze out a few words: "I don't want to know, and there is no need."
Zhang Ailing often said that men will sway between white roses and red roses, and it is difficult to decide. Over time, if you have a white rose, the red one will be the cinnabar mole on your heart; if you have a red rose, the white one will be the moonlight in front of the bed. On a woman, why not? Lin Wei has always dreamed of seeing his youth again, calmly and calmly, without any disturbance. But who grows up overnight?