After a short silence, Song Qingchun asked, "Brother Yinan, do you still like Tang Nuan?"
As if surprised that Song Qingchun would ask such a question, the sound of drinking stopped. Qin Yinan took a long time, probably to contemplate the question seriously before answering, "Yes."
Song Qingchun was silent.
There was an added gentleness that coursed through the electronic cable before drifting into Song Qingchun's ear. "Actually, I have not once forgotten about her over all these years."
Song Qingchun's hand that gripped her phone was white from force. Feeling like the air had been completely sucked out of her lungs, she replied with forced levity, "Then, Brother Yinan, you have to work harder!"
Qin Yinan did not answer but chuckled lowly on the phone. Song Qingchun hurriedly located a reason to hang up the phone. The tears that she had been holding in her eyes slid down her face as she did.
