In a dream that belonged solely to Black Jack.
He was surrounded by a white mist, running forward with all his might, but he never seemed to reach the end.
Suddenly, the fog dispersed, and a blinding ray of sunshine pierced through.
Jian Luo raised his hand to shield his eyes. When he adjusted to the light, he lowered his hand.
A crisp sound of laughter reached his ears, faintly familiar.
He focused his gaze, and the image in front of him gradually became clear.
It was in Black Jack's fortress.
A miniature version of him and a miniature version of Black Jack.
He was ten years old and Black Jack was thirteen.
At that time, it was their fourth year of acquaintance and the second year since Black Jack helped him overcome mild autism.
That year's winter vacation was freezing cold. Black Jack and his family went to France for a month, and he remembered going to the airport to pick them up very early in the day.
