"Do you still remember? Once, you came down from the stage and hurt your foot, and nobody dared to carry you to the hospital. In the end, it was a man wearing a baseball cap who stepped forward, took you on his back, and carried you to the hospital for a check-up," Qin Yao looked intently at Song Zhaozhao. "Song Zhaozhao, that man was me."
Song Zhaozhao stared blankly at Qin Yao, and although she had considered many possibilities, she never imagined that this person would be Qin Yao.
"How can that be..." Song Zhaozhao stammered, her face puzzled as she looked at Qin Yao, her voice trembling with uncertainty: "How could it be you..."
"Why couldn't it be?" Qin Yao gazed seriously at Song Zhaozhao, his brows lowered and his eyes earnest: "Zhaozhao, it was me."
Back then, as I stood in the crowd, watching you shine so brightly, perhaps I was already touched.
The world loves your talent and beauty, all that is wonderful, but what I love are your ambitious eyes.
