The orphanage, still that old orphanage, stood here in solitude like a piece of art.
In fact, anything stripped of its original purpose and left isolated carries a certain artistic quality, though interpretations vary from person to person.
Dark Litchi's childhood was inseparable from the orphanage. In some ways, she resembled Mr. Su Bai—the orphanage to her was akin to that painting to Mr. Su Bai. It was a chaotic mix of pain, anger, and lingering affection, crushed and stirred together. Not palatable, yet impossible to discard.
To Chen Ru, as a fellow woman, looking at the orphanage felt akin to admiring Da Vinci's "Mona Lisa." Each generation of the audience had its own circles, its own legends. To have one's name passed down through multiple generations of listeners was no small feat.
