He Xiuyu's gaze carried a smile, his heart reluctant to part, yet also filled with some pride.
He couldn't help but recall the night Qiao Qingyu had crawled into his bed, those bright eyes in the half-dream, half-awake moments.
He curved the corners of his mouth, saying that no matter how different Qiao Qingyu was now from the past, he didn't care because he knew she was always Qiao Qingyu, the same King Qiao who had once roamed the Qiao Family Team.
He had always liked her, she was the person he held most dear.
The roadsides were not endless fields; there was a stretch of hill after hill, and although the hills were not craggy with strange stones, they were barren of any grass.
But once past these hills, one could see people bustling in the fields.
The autumn scenery was always the most beautiful.
The poplar leaves turned golden yellow, the maple leaves became fiery red, and even if the Barley Grass was somewhat yellowed, it still composed a picturesque autumn scene.
