Xue Panpan lived in an elegant neighborhood with tall buildings all around. When she looked up, those lit-up windows seemed like wives waiting for their husbands to return late at night, an indescribable warmth to the scene.
Helping Xue Panpan with her shopping bags and following her, Han Yifan found comfort in the familiar silhouette in front of him and her soft voice sharing stories about the community.
The elevator was rather old, and as the indicator light climbed upwards, Xue Panpan said with slight embarrassment, "It took me several years of saving to make the down payment. The outside may look old, but the apartment is nice, Young Master Han; please don't frown upon it..."
"I won't."
Han Yifan responded with a gentle smile, his voice carrying an unintended tenderness.
As they entered, the foyer's walls were covered with Xue Panpan's own photos—innocent, radiant, enchanting...
Each picture captured a different version of her.