"Achoo!" She stopped and sneezed.
A warm hand reached over.
"Stop fooling around. It's time to go home."
It was an ordinary line, said in a way that suggested they just had a small quarrel. Only it wasn't a quarrel, but a divorce.
"Achoo!" she sneezed again. The coldness was sinking in.
"Let's go," he said, holding her hand tightly. His palms were as dry and warm as before.
Frankly speaking, wasn't a living, breathing person way better than a cold tombstone?
Yan Huan sneaked a peek at his chiseled chin. The look on his face was as hard and aloof as always. Indeed, he wasn't warm or soft enough, but that was who he was, a man with an icy face and a tender heart.
He never changed.
If so, who changed?
Was it her? Was it time?
Or did everything change after all?
Lu Yi opened the door, took out some clothes from the closet, and passed them to Yan Huan.
