The room fell utterly silent, Qiao Bowen widened his eyes, staring at the ceiling, and after a long time, he sighed heavily.
"I haven't dreamed of you for so many years, I've almost forgotten your appearance, until I saw her, your face became clear again in my memory..."
"I'm sorry..."
He tightly gripped the hairpin, letting its sharp edges pierce into his palm, and closed his eyes.
——
Yun Ya returned to the room, took a shower, and came out drying her damp hair.
Standing in front of the window, looking at the vast night outside, her eyes gradually turned misty.
She had a feeling, the person Qiao Bowen talked about might be her grandmother.
She had no pictures of her grandmother, she didn't know what her grandmother looked like; she only vaguely remembered her grandfather once casually mentioned that she resembled her grandmother in appearance, a remark she kept in her heart.
