In that moment, she seemed to understand something, as if something was gradually slipping away from her hands like quicksand, becoming less and less.
Lu Yanhe gazed at her slowly receding silhouette, somewhat lost in thought.
Clearly, under his eyes was Wen Xi, but he absentmindedly thought of another figure.
He remembered her once staring blankly at greasy sweet and sour ribs, not caring at all about her eating manner, while also not forgetting to praise, "Mom, the sweet and sour ribs you made are so delicious..."
That was at his home, and that 'Mom' was also his mother.
That kind of thing, probably only Su Jia would like it, right?
...
The weekend was Su Jia's birthday, celebrated very modestly, without any extravagance.
In the evening, she looked at the pile of evening gowns before her, her mind tangled, not knowing which one to choose.
