The man picked it up, looking at the light-colored tea in silence for a long time.
"I haven't made tea in a long time. My skills might be rusty, please forgive me," Mu Yiliang broke the silence.
Only then did Nie Qing lift it to his lips for a sip, then set it down again.
He sighed lightly, "You're not her, after all."
Mu Yiliang's lips twitched slightly, "Of course. Besides, I think I'm much younger than that woman."
Nie Qing was nearly forty, and he had met that woman when he was young; that woman was probably older than Nie Qing.
Nie Qing looked at her emotionlessly, "When I knew her, she was about your age. In my heart, she will always be young."
"Oh," Mu Yiliang responded, rolling her eyes inwardly.
The goddess of a young man's dreams... Honestly, if Nie Qing were to see how his goddess had aged, he might not be so persistent.
"Your name is Mu Yiliang?"
"Yes."
