Those fleeting things are like sand slipping through your fingers—the tighter you grip, the quicker they escape.
The same principle applies: if Brother Zhenyu were truly standing in front of her, could they return to the past? Could everything be reset to zero and start anew?
She was no longer the pure, innocent Xia Qingqian she once was. Would Brother Zhenyu still want her? Even if Brother Zhenyu didn't mind, she could never go back.
Beitang Yao's left hand left the steering wheel, tugging at his tie, and when he turned his head, he caught a glimpse of Xia Qingqian, whose expression reflected the loneliness of the night.
"What are you thinking so deeply about?" It seemed he didn't want to miss any of her expressions; seeing her lost in thought, he was eager to know what she was pondering.
Xia Qingqian slightly lifted her head from where it rested against the car window, turning her face to look at the Young Master who had spoken.
