Aunt Liu urged Wei Anning with heartfelt advice, but seeing her staring blankly at the book, not knowing whether she was listening, Aunt Liu sighed and left the room.
The room instantly quieted down. Wei Anning closed the book and turned her head to look at the French window. The curtains were closed, and she couldn't see anything. Yet, in front of her eyes, there seemed to hover the brilliant lights and, amidst them, the elegant figure of the man.
She knew that Aunt Liu's words had shaken her resolve.
It was the annual Weiyu Festival, a festive occasion. Perhaps it would be the first and last Weiyu Festival they spent together. If she missed it, there might truly be no chance to experience it again.
Thinking this, Wei Anning felt a sourness in her heart.
