Li Qinghe had grown into a graceful young woman.
Although Li Anqing often prevented her from collecting pearls, she still went. For she loved the sea, loved the feeling of swimming freely in the water. Whenever she had free time, she would still visit Tianmiao to learn and play.
But on this day, Tianmiao said goodbye to her.
"Where are you going?" Li Qinghe urgently wrote on the ground with a stick.
"I'm going home," Tianmiao smiled, cupping Li Qinghe's face with her hands. "But don't be like this; we'll meet again."
"When?" Li Qinghe quickly wrote again. Her writing now exhibited great style, surpassing many calligraphers, though she was unaware of this.
"You will know when the time comes. Will you miss me? Remember, I'm your mentor!" Tianmiao pinched Li Qinghe's cheek. She had watched this child grow up and increasingly adored this pure-hearted, clear-eyed girl.
