Qian felt that she was definitely different from her past life, but she couldn't pinpoint exactly where the differences lay—it was just a feeling.
However, when Yu Minglang's hand intertwined with hers, their fingers tightly clasped, standing together at the hero's tombstone, witnessing a separation of love and responsibility, life and death—Qian understood.
"Actually, I can keep living without you."
"Hey!" What about the promised vow?
"But with you, the years are evidently more peaceful."
Living is the same, but the quality isn't identical.
Qian's life was filled with various things. She aimed to reach the pinnacle in her career and defended her family with her efforts. But no matter who she was or her position, there was always a place in her heart reserved for him.
Without it, she wouldn't be complete.
A large and small hand, distinctly black and white, tightly clasped, the background being Lone Wolf's photo.
