That night went uneventful.
The next day, Yang Gang got up before dawn.
He needed to get back in shape. Ever since he came to Hangcheng, he hadn't done any systematic training.
As he was walking out of the villa door, he bumped into Zuo Lan who was returning from a jog.
"So early?" Yang Gang was somewhat surprised.
"Hmm, I'm used to it." Zuo Lan, dressed in sportswear, appeared very refreshing and neat.
Yang Gang glanced at Zuo Lan, pondered briefly, and asked, "Tomorrow is your mother's death anniversary, right?"
"Hmm." Zuo Lan replied with a neutral expression.
Yang Gang nodded without saying anything further and started his jog.
The morning in the mountains was very quiet, and Yang Gang jogged lightly, lost in his thoughts.
He took a deep breath, and a gust of cool air entered his nostrils.
"Time flies pretty fast, it's late autumn already, even the air is cool."
Suddenly recalling something, Yang Gang stopped jogging and reached out to grab at the air.
