"Leave now," Wen Mu's voice rose again, ethereal and faint, as if drifting from beyond the heavens.
The maid, certain she hadn't misheard, quickly bowed and exited.
In the vast living room, only the woman's lonely figure remained.
After a long while, Wen Mu lowered her head and scrutinized several photographs. The man in the pictures was still handsome, his profile strikingly beautiful, his features deep. He was holding a girl with a ponytail, smiling tenderly.
In the next photo, he was with her at a concert, a gentle light clearly shining in his profound eyes.
There were more, of them eating, whispering...
In every one, the man wore an endlessly doting smile, looking at the girl beside him. It was something she had never seen, something she had never received.
