Ye Zhan's tall body stood slightly rigidly in the night, trying to appear calm as he intertwined his fingers with those of Momo.
Beside him, Momo glanced back at Ye Zhangming, who was gradually walking away, then withdrew her gaze and looked up at Ye Zhan's stern brows and eyes.
"Ye Zhan."
"I'm fine."
Ye Zhan curled his lips into a comforting smile at Momo.
Taking her hand, he stepped forward two paces, standing before the tombstone.
He pulled out his phone and turned on the flashlight.
The originally dark tombstone was instantly illuminated, and it was then that Momo saw clearly the gentle and kind smile of the woman on the tombstone.
A sudden wave of sadness surged within her.
For the woman on the tombstone who was so young and graceful, with such a gentle smile.
Ye Zhan's exquisite and perfect features inherited from his mother.
