The photo was about the size of a palm, black and white, its edges slightly yellowed due to the passage of time.
He Zhilan's gaze fell on the photograph, but it took her a while to come back to her senses.
Gu Zhilan, a name she hadn't heard for twelve long years, suddenly invoked by someone, hit her like a bolt of lightning, causing her heart to ache.
He Zhilan didn't know if it was a coincidence or whether God had finally started pitying her, empathising with her almost endless longing.
In the yellowed black and white photo, on the green lawn in front of a two-story villa, a young girl's innocent face, her brilliant smile, was more breathtaking than the capital's sunshine. The pigtailed girl was laughing so heartily then.
