An Zhe nudged Sun Nanjue with his elbow, "If you don't say anything, no one will treat you as mute. Ah Chen, did you call us here because there's something important?"
"It's important, it has always been important." Sheng Shaochen turned the empty wine glass in front of him expressionlessly.
Through the glass, he looked ahead.
All the light, under the refraction of the glass, became distorted.
Wherever his gaze reached, objects also lost their authenticity.
It was as if everything in this world, behind myriad barriers, became increasingly elusive.
"21 years have passed, and still, there is no news," Sheng Shaochen said as he continually poured red liquid into his wine glass.
An Zhe and Sun Nanjue suddenly fell silent, each filling their wine glasses.
21 years ago, Sheng Shaochen was 7 years old. That year, a great calamity had befallen the Sheng Family.
Sheng Shaochen and his brother, who was only 4 years old at the time, were separated in a man-made accident.
