Qianqian:
It's 3 a.m. in Paris. Just now, I glanced at the lights outside the window. Everyone said that Paris is the capital of romance. I didn't think so.
Perhaps it was because I didn't have you, but my eyes are gray and lifeless.
In the past, when I couldn't sleep, I would work. My existence seemed to be for this reason, but now, when I couldn't sleep, my mind was filled with you.
Was this the so-called "missing"?
I don't know. If it is, it feels a little bitter, but it doesn't seem that bitter either.
Qianqian, I want to hug you and hear you call me "Ah Yan", even if I know that the name you're calling isn't me.
But if lying to yourself can make people happier, I want this happiness.
Lin Qingqian's fingers that were holding the postcard couldn't help but tremble. Her gaze landed on the date. It was written by him when he went to Paris for a business trip previously.
