It was a square paper box about as wide as a forearm.
The box was perfectly square, entirely black, with a line of words written in a pure white square font—
[Happy Birthday, Ye Jiu].
With the small black-and-white box in his hands, Wen Nan had a fleeting illusion, thinking that his uncle, who had passed away many years ago, would look quite fitting resting peacefully inside.
Of course, Wen Nan would absolutely never voice such thoughts.
No one uses a pure black square paper box to wrap a birthday gift; this is common sense, something Yu Shujun doesn't understand, and it's not her fault.
Being too serious at a time like this would ruin the atmosphere.
So Wen Nan's smile deepened, and he raised his hand to open the box. Seeing what was inside, he was stunned—
Inside that paper box was a heart.
Not a heart-shaped ornament, but a bloody heart with clearly visible ventricles, atria, arteries, and veins.
