Chen Yi'an stood in the hall and saw Cheng Weiyue return. He was slightly taken aback and said, "Mr. Zhou is upstairs in the flower room."
The fragrance of daffodils is very light, existing alone, it can even make people feel it's too delicately faint.
But a room full of daffodils perfectly fills the air with just the right amount of fragrance.
Zhou Jingwei stood against the backlighting, the gentle and lingering snow outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the snow light was blindingly bright, casting a faint glow around him.
Cheng Weiyue walked towards him step by step, her arms slightly raised, hugging him from behind.
She said, "Zhou Jingwei, if I go abroad, will you take good care of these flowers?"
Her voice was soft and tender, mixed with barely noticeable nasal sounds, easily stirring a sense of heartache.
Zhou Jingwei turned around and looked down at the young girl's somewhat reddened eyelids.
