Xing Qiao bit his lip tightly, preventing his tears from falling.
He really missed his uncle…
Xing Qiao wiped his eyes, forcing the tears back. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Chuzheng's wrist and paused, then turned his gaze towards it, staring for a few seconds, and frowned slightly strangely: "That bracelet of yours..."
"Hmm?"
"I feel like I've seen it before."
Chuzheng raised her hand to examine the bracelet: "It's produced by your group. Seeing it would be normal."
"No… it's not." Xing Qiao shook his head. This bracelet didn't match any of those produced by the group. "This bracelet is different... it... it..."
Xing Qiao tried hard to recall something, but perhaps his memory was too fuzzy, he couldn't remember it for the moment.
