"I didn't think of keeping a low profile this time," said Zhang Ronghua.
Yang Hongling smiled. Yan Bei's talent was worth her lover's investment.
After a while.
The few of them stopped at a corner in the north of the city and looked at the small courtyard in front of them. It was dilapidated and old. The walls were covered with moss, and two corners of the courtyard door were broken. The couplets pasted on both sides had not been changed for a long time. After experiencing the wind and rain, the color had turned white, and less than a quarter of them were left.
It was a familiar scene. Nothing had changed.
Yan Bei could not hold it in any longer. His heart softened and touched the deepest part of his heart. His eyes were red as he rushed up, pushed open the courtyard door, and rushed in.
