Yan Huan walked out of the tent. A year had passed, during which the seasons had graced them by turns.
And now, it was spring again. She reached out and touched her hands together, feeling a numbing pain.
She had frostbite.
It wasn't that bad of a thing, she decided. She wouldn't even need makeup now.
She then went back inside the tent, where she had already resided for a year. Time really does fly. She was 26, almost 27 in the coming year. In her previous life, she had died a year after 27.
She didn't know how long she had in this life. She didn't need it to be too long; just long enough to take care of Lu Yi's parents and send them off on their final journey. That's when they could all reunite again.
"The soup's ready, Miss Yan," said the nanny, putting the bowl onto the table.
Yan Huan walked over, raised the bowl to her lips, and drank deeply. Her hands were sad to look at.
