October in Jiangcheng had already welcomed autumn. As night fell, the temperature dropped.
The French sycamores lining the streets also turned yellow, and a gust of wind would always shake loose a few leaves.
At the Jian residence, the verdigris railing was bereft of roses, leaving only walls of withering leaves that merged into a dark mass under the night light.
Nan Mufeng stopped the car, and Jian Xi went to ring the doorbell. Soon, Aunt Yang came to open the door herself, "Miss, you've finally come back!"
"Yes, I'm back," Jian Xi extended her hand to wipe the tears of excitement from Aunt Yang's eyes, "I won't be leaving again."
"Really?" Aunt Yang asked in disbelief. She thought the young lady was like a gust of wind, blowing eastward one moment and westward the next, never settling down.
"Really," Nan Mufeng said, "Nan's will establish a company in Jiangcheng, so we won't have to travel abroad all the time."
