Zheng Nianru suddenly sat up from the bed, her vision dim. The faint light of the candle filtered in through the gauze, indistinct and barely visible; lying at the foot of the bed, wrapped in a thin blanket and asleep, was none other than Nian Xia.
Zheng Nianru came to her senses, realizing the Nian Xia of those times was no longer there; she was still of a tender and green age.
The memories in her mind, clear and vivid, were nothing but a spring dream. Zheng Nianru didn't disturb Nian Xia on the floor. Instead, she gazed dully outside the gauze. It wasn't fully light outside yet, the faint glow weighed down upon the brightness of the candle, everything was silent and still.
Zheng Nianru hadn't thought about the past for a long time. Ju Nanyi had come to loathe her, and Zheng Nianru had long since stopped caring about the ridiculous things he did.
