Lin Ziran finished signing, turned to look at Qin Qingnan, and found that he hadn't signed yet; instead, he was staring blankly at her.
Suddenly, she felt an unbearable heartache.
Yet, she still forced herself to smile, "Hurry up and sign, there are people waiting in line behind us."
Her radiant smile, in his eyes, turned into peach blossoms, petal by petal withering, then petal by petal blown away by the wind.
Then, his world became empty.
As a man, he once again shed tears.
He resignedly signed the name "Qin Qingnan" on the document.
As he finished the last stroke, a huge teardrop fell on the paper, spreading into a large wet stain.
Lin Ziran suddenly turned her head to look out the window; she didn't dare look at him again, for if she did, she wouldn't be able to hold back her tears.
When she watched him complete the final stroke, she felt a hole open in the place of her heart, a hole that no one could ever fill in this lifetime.
