After more than three years, upon returning to Beijing, Wen Wanzi smelled the familiar scent in the air, feeling a bit of sourness in her nose.
Beijing seemed unchanged, just like before. But upon closer inspection, it was as though everything had changed while the people remained the same.
This city was like a giant rolling wheel, moving forward. Nothing and no one could shake it.
Even the once sensational stories of the Bao Family and the Huo Family, those tales of wealthy clans, had dissipated into the dust of this city.
When the plane landed, and Wen Wanzi set foot on Beijing soil again, she felt an indescribable sense of solidity in her heart.
After all, she fundamentally belonged to this place.
With her lazy, curly black hair tied neatly behind her head, wearing a black mask and baseball cap, she led Mumu off the plane.
Blending in with the crowd from economy class, nobody gave Wen Wanzi a second look.