The tea here is far from the high-quality of the past, but Gu Yachen got addicted to it, drinking cup after cup, finding it all sweet to the taste.
He was elegant, deep, and had such charm.
Gu Jiayin quietly watched him, utterly captivated by his every move, because every detail reminded her so much of her brother, the brother who loved her the most.
Several times, she almost blurted out the words she had imagined saying a million times: Brother, thank you for still being alive.
If it weren't for his face and voice being so different, she would almost have believed he was her brother.
As soon as he finished a cup, she would pour him another one, and the picture was so harmoniously warm as one sipped and the other admired.
Until the pot of tea was empty.
Gu Jiayin tried her best to pour again and again, until the last drop dripped from the teapot, she awkwardly raised her head and softly asked, "Shall I brew another pot?"
