***
"May I sit down and talk with you?"
Jiang Guanghui politely inquired.
His mannerisms were filled with an innate elegance, like he was born into nobility, making others feel at ease.
"Sure, please sit."
Mai Xiaomai was already deeply intrigued by the woman in the photograph.
She felt certain there was a blood relation between them.
No matter who she was, she wanted to see why they resembled each other so closely.
After Jiang Guanghui sat down, he asked her, "May I take a picture of you?"
"Is it to show her?"
Mai Xiaomai pointed at the woman in the photograph as she asked.
"No, she has passed away; it's to show to someone else."
Jiang Guanghui replied.
Mai Xiaomai hadn't agreed yet, but he didn't take her photo without her consent.
Upon hearing that the woman in the photo who looked like her was dead, Mai Xiaomai's heart inexplicably ached, as if someone had fiercely struck her heart.
"So young, how did she die?"
She asked painfully.
