As she stood in the middle of the campus, gazing at this tree, Zhuang Nainai's head was lifted high. Her long hair landed gently on her shoulders. An expression of bliss was on her blemish-free and fair face.
She was silently observing Si Zhengting, who was in the middle of a call.
Even though he was in a suit and leather shoes, an image of him during their high school days appeared before her mind's eye. He was wearing a white shirt, his figure slim.
It seemed as though time had not left an imprint on him despite how five years had passed.
He was the same as he was before, indifferent, cool, and full of charisma.
As she thought about this, Zhuang Nainai suddenly felt very blissful.
Then, he turned around, his expression suddenly serious. His lips twitched a little, as though he was about to say something, but he didn't know how to put it into words. He deliberated for a moment, then said, "Nainai, there's been news of Mother Zhuang."