On her way home, Gu Shengyin saw an unexpected person by the roadside.
The small boy was very frail, squatting with his arms wrapped around his knees, his head lowered, lost in thought.
Just one look made Gu Shengyin's heart tremble.
She approached him, seeing more clearly now: his clothes had obviously been worn for a long time, the fabric showed signs of countless washings and fading, his hair was untidy and unkempt, and his exposed wrists were so thin they seemed as though a slight force could break them.
Gu Shengyin's eyelashes quivered for a moment; in her understanding, the man had always been noble and domineering in each life, never appearing so down and out like he did now.
She once entertained herself by idly imagining what he would be like if he took on a different identity, but seeing him for real left her heart aching inexplicably.
