That night, Liu Qing and Xiao Wen admired the moon until one in the morning.
The two of them sat side by side, bathed in the bright moonlight. They didn't look at the moon in the sky, but were telling stories about their lives.
In those stories, all kinds of characters appeared, but there was no one.
The stories of childhood, the stories of growing up, but there was no story of the present.
They also deliberately did not withdraw the money.
He didn't even mention what happened not long ago.
It was as if that matter did not exist.
Or rather, it was like doing push-ups or running. It was just a simple exercise that emitted heat and had no special meaning.
However, as they spoke, only one chair was left with someone. The other chair had two people.
Xiao Wen's body was light and soft. Sitting on Liu Qing's lap did not give Liu Qing much pressure.
She was soft and cute, and hugging her was quite stressful.