Suddenly, he remembered the countless times tonight he had wanted to blurt something out, only to swallow his words again.
She fished the last cherry-flavored candy out of her pocket.
And handed it to Jiang Fulai.
"What?" Jiang Fulai also got out of the car—he wouldn't leave until he had watched Bai Lian enter the alleyway.
Bai Lian opened her hand and placed the red and green wrapped candy in his palm. Her fingers were slender, and under the dim streetlight, they looked like cold jade soaked in water.
"The aunty on the bus gave it to me this morning," Bai Lian looked up, met his eyes, flashed a very brief but earnest smile and said, "You've worked hard, Teacher Jiang."
She always regarded people around her as if they were observers passing through this mortal world.
Even her smiles seemed casual and never reached the depths of her eyes.
She was like duckweed, and if one wasn't careful, she could be blown away by the wind at any moment.
