Familiar skirts, familiar faces, familiar voices...
At this moment, time seemed to freeze.
The boundary between memory and reality blurred, like distant mountains shrouded in morning mist, indistinct, leading the man to involuntarily fall into a trance.
"Ye..."
Unknowingly, he had paced up to the woman in front of him.
Jiang Shouzhong raised his hand to touch the woman's cheeks, soft and warm like jade, but hesitated mid-air, his fingertips trembling slightly, for fear that what lay before him was nothing but an illusion.
His fingertips could almost feel the faint warmth in the void.
"Ye..."
The man's lips gently parted, letting out a whisper that was almost inaudible.
But the next second, the woman's lightly cold and soft palm tenderly caressed the man's cheek.
"Little Brother Jiang seems to have lost some weight."
Ye Zhuchan's eyes and brows shone with an indescribable warmth and grace.