He could even clearly feel the wrinkles on Zheng Xiangyue's hands,
the faint tremors,
a touch cooler than his own body heat.
The hands of the old, the young, and the children.
He had also held Zheng Xiangyue's hand and even carried her.
So delicate, so weightless.
But now, 600 years later, the adolescent Zheng Xiangyue had turned into a centenarian, and it was her hand holding Lin Xian's.
"Thank you, for giving me a birthday present..."
Zheng Xiangyue's somewhat hoarse voice came through, and Lin Xian suddenly remembered the sickly girl in the hospital bed, who initially couldn't even lift the Rhein Cat.
"Thank you, for looking after me and my brother..."
Zheng Xiangyue's voice choked up a bit, and Lin Xian couldn't help but recall the tiny girl who used all her strength to lift the urn, squeezing out a slight smile, saying, "Look, I can hold brother now."
"Thank you, for buying me a ticket to the Moon..."
